exposed [h.s.] ❁ sequel

2. Haunting

When I wake, Niall is gone.

For a moment, as I stand in the living room staring blankly at the messy couch and wrinkled pillow case,
I wonder if he was ever here at all.
It would be easier, less complicated,
if he didn't come home with me last night. My guilt wouldn't haunt me,
knaw at the back of my mind, if I
didn't act recklessly and touch him.
But I did. I did, and somewhere deep down, I know I don't regret it.

I lazily fold the blanket he slept with,
the faintest hint of his cologne on the fabric. A brief moment passes and I hold it close to my chest, cuddling it almost, before hiding it away in my closet.

I stand in the middle of my apartment
with my arms wrapped around my body. I scan the room; the white walls that encase me, the empty furniture, the lingering sense of loneliness. No matter how tight I pull at my clothes and my skin, I still feel him.

Walking to the kitchen, I know the pantry is bare. I haven't left my home for any essentials in a few weeks, but my stomach no longer aches for food.
There is a different ache, deep in my chest and gut and mind.

Sometimes I see Harry.
Not actually, but in my dreams.
I see him as he was,
with youth and vibrance only a boy in love could possess. He was beautiful, but sometimes I find myself forgetting what he looked like. Ally told me he cut his hair. He wears wrinkles around his eyes that have faded from a brilliant green to nearly gray.

Sometimes I cry in the shower,
like this morning. The water mixes with my tears and drowns my screams so the neighbors don't hear.
After cleaning up the reminder of Niall, I go to wash his touch off my skin. The faucet above pours out scorching water that sends clouds of steam off my body. I don't notice the red blotches the water burns on me.

I focus on where Niall moved his hands.
I trace my fingertips along my neck, down to the valley of my breasts, and over to the slopes of my arms.
With my eyelids shut,
Niall appears beside me,
the water drenching his entirty.
He places both hands on my hips,
pulling me into him. Our bodies collide, and when I glance up to touch his face, it's Harry who holds me.

There's a knock at the bathroom door.
I blink rapidly out of my daydream and turn the faucet off.
Wrapping my body in a towel,
I press my ear against the door
and ask who is there.

"I brought breakfast," Sonam,
my neighbor from across the hall, says. "It smells like man out here."

The door opens and I pad quickly
to the kitchen, grabbing a donut
from Sonam's hands.

"Thank you," I smile with crumbled pastry in my mouth.

Sonam grimaces, retrieving a new donut from the box. "Someone's rather smiley, and rather naked.
Did you get lucky last night?"

My grin fades as I lick the remnants
of frosting from the tips of my fingers.
When I shut my bedroom door behind me, my back hits the wooden panel, and the pastry falls
and disintegrates on the floor.
I hold myself, counting
each deep breath I draw in.

The haunting is still on my skin.