reckless - h.s / mature content

42 - Robert

Millie

After getting out of the shower and getting dressed, I plumped down on the couch, thinking about what I had to face today.

Harry told me about the police officer, who wanted to see me. Of course, they wanted to know what I had seen back there, but was I ready to talk about it? Hell no.

I nervously picked on the hem of my sweater, twirling the end of it around my finger, watching it disappear and reappear again, while thinking about Elliot.

Suddenly, I felt Harry's chin resting on my shoulder, "ready?" he asked carefully, planting a soft kiss on my exposed shoulder, breathing against it. "No, but let's go." I weakly smiled and got up, pulling my shoes on and walked with Harry out of the door.

He walked a bit behind me, my face was turned to the ground as I walked towards Harry's car. He unlocked it and we climbed inside, the tension thick between us. Everything felt uneasy and heavy, the exact opposite of how I usually felt around him. Not that it was his fault, because it wasn't. He did everything I could've asked for, but I couldn't bring myself to feel good or happy or even hopeful.

If there wouldn't be those pictures. Blood, a bullet, his gun and his lifeless body. If there wouldn't be his harsh words and his bold actions. If those things wouldn't have been there, right in my mind, I believe I could cope differently with those things.

But I couldn't.

If there would've have been only a message, telling me Elliot has died, I would not have shed a single tear. But I guess nobody could see something violent like this, and keep a clear mind.

I was not sad about what happened to Elliot. Of course, he should've not felt the need to kill himself or be depressed at all, but after all, all he did was hurt me. Verbally and physically, so I could not bring myself to feel sad about his death. He teared me away from my family, my friends and the love of my life, without thinking twice about it. He told me he loved me, but I think he just loved the thought of not being alone.

Funny, what love can make you do. On one side, it can make you happy and so full of life and love, not thinking twice about anything. You would give up everything for that one person, leave everything behind and just offer them every piece of you. But, on the other side, it can make you do awful things to those person you think you 'love'. You can put them down, because you think you'll never find another one if they leave, you can destroy their whole lives.

I mean, Elliot didn't give a crap about me. He hated me, the way I was, the way I talked, walked, dressed and more. He just didn't wanted to be alone. This is what hurts me the most. He was selfish, not thinking about me for a split of a second, just because he didn't want to feel alone. He used me for his needs, not caring about how I felt during this whole time.

Deep in thoughts, I haven't even noticed that we were already there. Only when Harry turned off the engine, I slowly came back to realisation, making me close my eyes for a few seconds.

Harry's warm hand found mine, slowly intertwining them and squeezing it lightly. "Whatever happens in there, doesn't matter after we leave this station again. It's going to be okay, love." he spoke calmly, his words carefully picked. "I love you." he added and when I turned my head, to look at him, I could not help but smile. "I love you." I replied quietly.

We left the car and slowly walked towards the front door. It was still early, not even 8am, but I wanted to go as early as possible.

Harry opened the front door, holding it for me. I gave him an thankful smile and walked towards the reception, where a bored looking police officer snapped his head up, raising an eyebrow.