The Maid For Styles

Chapter 83

Chloe's POV

Day two, post Harry, was considerably different to any other experiences during the week that had passed since Harry had walked out of the bedroom and left behind a heavy declaration of wholehearted love for me. My body was sat upon the bed while silent tears streamed down my cheeks. No sounds of anguish or heartbreak escaped my lips - probably because the endless amount of ice-cream (that Renee delivered by the hour) shovelled down my throat prevented the hope for me to emit any sort of noise. I didn't feel anything that day. It was almost as though I was numb to the pain that had wickedly simmered in my veins. While the pile of ice-cream tubs beside the bed got bigger and bigger and I ate my entire bodyweight in the cold delicacy, Renee removed the make-up from previous days off my skin and wiped my tears frequently, sending me small, pitiful smiles that were filled with love all the same. The following day, she lead me to the bathroom to shower, for I knew she found that the smell I issued was too strong, but to soften the blow, she told me that the warm water would help relax my muscles and I would feel better. However, within minutes after I'd showered, I resumed my spot on the bed and allowed tears to leak from my eyes all over again.

The fourth day was dreadful. The blockade to the pain that I'd built up was shattered and I was swallowed once again by a heartache so terrible it felt as though a large gaping hole was situated in my chest. Just as Harry had been days earlier, he was everywhere - whispering words in the silence, on my skin, on my tongue and his familiar scent invaded my senses. I screamed for him. I screamed at him. I cried for my loss and for the pain he'd caused me. As much as I wanted him beside me to love and hold, I wanted him as far away as possible, because I hated him. My emotions were on an all-time high, switching between an undeniable love for him and a burning hatred. I tried to remind myself that he wasn't good enough for me or simply good for me and that I deserved better, but when my eyes locked on the text messages we'd once sent back and forth, I hopelessly desired him next to me - free of any troubles or burdens.

Harry: I love you, baby girl .x

Me: I love you tooooo x

-

Harry: You look beautiful today, baby .xx

Me: You're sitting right next to me you loser

Harry: I know, but I thought this would be cute. Shut up and giggle and act embarrassed and tell me to "stoooop" .x

Me: Stooooop xxxx

-

Harry: When you come to bed, bring me an apple from the fruit bowl, please .x

Me: Get your own apple

Harry: But, I'm showering. Please? x

Me: Don't use your phone in the shower you dickhead

Harry: I'm leaning out of the shower.
Chill the fuck out and please bring me an apple .x

Me: Only if you sleep with me naked x

Harry: Deal, baby girl .x

The newer messages had me choking on the sobs that fell from my lips for they weren't only from Harry, but from the boys as well. Although, they left unopened while Harry's didn't, because I figured they would be messages of sympathy and sorrow, and that only made the situation much more real.

Upon opening Harry's newest messages, I was pulled further and further into the deep pit of pain and heartache. My veins stung, almost as if the traces Harry had left behind were screaming and burning within me - poisoning the once healthy flesh with a darkness and pain so terrible I would find myself lost in it.