Possessive

Chapter 14

Ella's POV:

"You're the king and baby, I'm the queen of disaster"

Understanding that a particular gene underlies a phenotype is- ugh. Shoving the textbook away from me I leaned back in the small uncomfortable chair at my desk. It was the fourth time that I attempted to read one of the chapters assigned, and I couldn't find it in myself to concentrate. An annoying taping sound resonated through the quiet of my room and it took me a minute to realize that I was the annoying taping sound. My knee was impatiently moving up and down and I quickly placed my hand on it to prevent it from continuing.

Sighing I bolted from my desk starting to pace from one end of my room to the other. Harry had stayed the night once again, but this time he situated himself in a chair in front of the door. In the middle of the night I got up to get a glass of water and saw him sleeping in the chair with all the lights off. He almost gave me a heart attack since I had assumed he left after I actually went to bed.

I hadn't slept at all last night, a million thoughts racing through my head. The pills were stuffed away in a box in my closet and it was making me extremely anxious. Now sleep was catching up to me and my anxiousness was settling itself in a big pit at the bottom of my stomach. Running my hands through my hair, I tried taking steady breaths to normalize my breathing with no avail. Stopping my bad and annoying habit of pacing, my eyes fixated on the bathroom door. I was internally debating with myself on whether or not I should just take the pills.

A tingling feeling made it's way up my fingers and then the rest of my arm. Giving a reluctant sigh I begrudgingly made my way to the bathroom. Closing and locking the door behind me incase Harry decided to barge in which wouldn't be surprising, I looked at my image in the mirror. Bags were evidently seen under my eyes and a few pieces of my hair were sticking up. Taking one last look in the mirror I opened the medicine cabinet grabbing the small orange pill bottle.

Opening it hastily, I momentarily thought about taking two since I hadn't slept at all last night and my anxiety was in a never ending high. Shaking my head I grabbed one swallowing it without water. Last time you took two you felt dead Ella. My subconscious reminded me. Shoving the bottle back in the cabinet I rested my body against the sink closing my eyes. Ever since my dad died I had bad anxiety, but really bad panic attacks. Whenever I felt the tingling in my arm it was like a warning sign for an impending panic attack. A psychiatrist prescribed me anxiety medication, which turned out to be heaven sent.

I knew I was merely only masking the underlying symptoms and that I was really only burying my issues deeper but they helped and I needed them more then anything. Whenever I don't sleep or have nightmares my anxiety always worsens. I was given sleeping pills as well but they made me feel trapped. Like if I was having a nightmare I wouldn't be able to wake up from it and would have to suffer through it. So for now, I dealt with the nightmares and the lack of sleep.

"Ella?" Harry's voice demanded from the other side of the door and I quietly sighed.

"Ella." He repeated, now agitated that I hadn't answered the first time and I pushed myself off the sink.

Opening the door, his eyes immediately flew to mine. Relief shone through them for a split second only to be replaced with anger. He was across the room in three seconds, and he stopped in front of me arms crossed fully intent on staying pissed off. His mouth opened and then quickly shut, his gaze and stance suddenly relaxing. Taking a step forward he gently pushed my hair behind my ear.