Harry’s POV
It felt slightly cool on my skin, the warmth of a second body absent from the bed. I sleepily patted the covers around me, expecting to find Bo. When I discovered emptiness, the events of the previous evening came flooding back. The alcohol, the shouting, the fear and bruising on my girl’s face. But my resilience towards her seemed to melt away as Bo clung to me in sleep, my fingers curling around hers to stop the nightmares.
I shot up, squinting with the light infiltrating the room from between my curtains. My heart was pounding, eyes darting around the space in an effort to seek her out. The duvet was shoved back, stumbling from the bed and over to the bathroom door.
I regretted shouting at her, regretted frightening her.
My knuckles made contact with the wood, allowing only a couple of desperate seconds to pass before abruptly swinging the door open. Where the hell was she? She wouldn’t have just left.
I was angry and intoxicated, Bo’s decision not to inform me of her visitor at work was something I couldn’t understand. How was I supposed to keep her safe if she didn’t tell me anything? When I saw her face the previous evening I knew what Dan had told me was true. The cocky bastard almost took pleasure in informing me that he was the one that had come to Bo’s rescue. I had no desire to dwell on the thought of what might have happened.
I swept my hair from my forehead, continuing my determined stride down the hall to the kitchen, hoping to find Bo. Empty. My feet carried me to the open door of the living room. Fingers grasped the frame, peering in. I was about to turn when a flash of dark waves caught my eye. She was sat on the window sill, knees curled up to her chest as she observed the world go by through the glass. Her small hands clasped around a mug as she brought it up to her lips, sipping on the liquid.
Bo must have caught me in her peripheral vision, her head snapping around in shock. The fullness of his blue eyes decreased slightly upon locking on mine. Her face still looked sore, lip split, bruising on her jaw. My beautiful broken girl.
“I made you one…a tea.” She stuttered, shaking her head.
My eyes absorbed her appearance, recognising the plaid shirt adorning her torso, it was mine.
“It’s probably cold now though.” Bo continued. “I-I didn’t want to wake you.”
When I remained silent her focus fell to the cuff of the shirt, fiddling with it anxiously. All I wanted to do was cuddle her, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to move forward. I’d heard her cry for an unbearable amount of time the previous evening, tears wetting my chest as she sobbed. But I could do nothing. Bo continually threw me curve balls, but the last one was quite unexpected. Why hadn’t she told me?
“Thanks.” I spoke quietly.
***
Bo’s POV
This was getting ridiculous. It had been two days since our confrontation. I thought Harry would have wanted to take a break for a little while, as his communication with me was bare minimum. So to say I was surprised when his car was waiting for me outside of work the next day was an understatement. We drove back to his flat in silence; I knew he wanted to keep watch over me.
Dan had been absent from the shop, confirming my suspicions that he was too cowardly to face me. He’d gone behind my back and told Harry exactly what had happened against my will. But I refused to deal with him, I had enough on my plate with the curly haired boy who found it difficult to meet my eye contact.
I’d grown tired of Harry’s immature behaviour. Yes, I’d withheld information from him, but this was silly. He’d keep me safely locked away in his flat and yet couldn’t find it within himself to talk to me properly. So I decided to handle the situation myself, I wasn’t going to be ignored. And if it meant having the inevitable argument, I would take it, anything not to have to endure another day of tiptoeing around the subject.
