Stitches

1.6

The hallway was nearly empty as I walked out of the ward, mentally ticking off the day's cases and ready to leave them behind. Just as I made it to the sliding glass doors, I spotted Harry waiting outside, pacing under the harsh hospital lights. His usual cool, steady posture was strained, his arms crossed over his chest, fists clenched at his sides.

I swallowed, composing myself. "Harry?" My voice held a careful edge. "Is everything alright?"

His gaze snapped up to mine, but his eyes were unreadable, a storm I couldn't quite grasp. "We need to talk," he said, voice rough. He strides upto me pulling my arm away from the hospital and towards a nearby street. "About Violet."

My chest tightened, but I forced myself to stay calm. "Is she okay?"

"Oh, she's fucking great," he bit back, sarcasm dripping from each word. "It's you who's the problem"

"What??"

"You're filling her head with some happy family, happy life bullshit" He spits "Thinking she can just stroll in and paint, like she's going to see you all the time, she'll get fuckin' attached, and I'm not having her clinging onto someone who's just playing fuckin' saviour."

I flinched, his words cutting like glass. "Playing saviour?" I echoed, voice hardening. "I just told her there's somewhere safe she can go. A place they can all go for support."

Harry's jaw clenched, and he scoffed, stepping closer, pushing me against a wall. "Support? What you're doing isn't support, it's sticking your fuckin' nose into places you can't even begin to understand. You waltz in, thinking you're going to fix things—"

"You think I'm doing this for some fucking ego boost?" I shot back, anger rising hot and sharp in my chest. "I volunteer my time there because I know what those kids are going through."

A bitter laugh escaped him, and he took another step forward, close enough that I could feel the heat of his anger, his body pressed up against mine. "Please," he sneered, voice cutting deep. "I don't care what kind of daddy in finance so snorted a bit 'a coke, mummy's meltdown, messed-up shit you supposedly went through, Piper." He presses his index finger to my chest, "You have zero fuckin' clue what life is like for kids like them."

I felt my throat tighten, the sting of his words cutting deeper than I could've imagined. My stomach twisted, anger mixing with the humiliation of him dismissing everything I'd been through as if it meant nothing. He didn't know what he was saying; he couldn't know, but still, the impact was there, blunt and brutal.

My palms fall on his chest, pushing him back as I fought to keep my voice steady. "How dare you, don't ever speak about my family like that" I managed, the words laced with all the hurt and rage twisting inside me. "You don't even know me, you have no idea—"

He shook his head, gaze harsh and unforgiving. "I know your fuckin' type."

I could feel my resolve cracking, my chest tight as I held his stare, refusing to back down even though his words stung. "Type?," I whispered, voice barely steady. "You're insane, you're literally insane." I say my turn to shake my head in disbelieve. 

We stood in silence, his gaze piercing into mine, both of us too stubborn, too angry to look away. His jaw worked as if he wanted to say something more, but whatever it was, he held it back.

I was shaking, but I refused to let him see how deeply he'd cut me. I couldn't stand here and keep pretending this was a fight I could win, not when his words were already slicing through me like a thousand little knives. I pushed past him, blinking hard to chase back the burning behind my eyes as I took a few determined steps away, my heart pounding in my chest.