AMBIVALENT {h.s} [ON HOLD]

Chapter 31.

I take a few steps to leave but something inside me stirs and I turn back towards Harry. He's throwing daggers at me with his darkened eyes and his arms are crossed over his bare chest.

"You know what, Harry? No, I'm not leaving. I know you don't mean what you just said to me. You're mad, and when you get mad like this you lash out at whoever's close. You take out your anger on people that you care about, people that you actually like. Then, when you've finally calmed down, you feel even worse because of what you did out of anger."

"Who said I liked you?" Harry asks.

"You did, Harry. I remember what you said that night when I slept in your bed with you when you thought I was asleep. You told me you thought I felt the same way, that maybe I was starting to like you too." I remind him.

Harry stays silent and the large room feels like it's shrinking by the second. The tension is building and I feel as if I should just run, like I should just leave and take the easy way out without any emotions. I'm not weak, though. I need to face whatever comes my way.

After a minute or two that seemed to stretch for ages, Harry speaks. "You heard that?"

I nod my head to confirm it.

"Maybe I do like you, or did like you. I don't know, but it doesn't matter, anyways. No one can like someone as fücked up as I am. It's not worth it."

"I like you." I admit, more to myself than to him. It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders after that one small sentence.

"You say that now, but eventually you would just get tired of my ways. You would get tired of me tying you up, tired of me not letting you touch me. You would get bored with me and try to fix me. I can't be fixed and I'm done trying to be."

"That's not true." I say. "You're not broken, just damaged, and if you really wanted to, you could get better. It would just take some time."

"I'm not a fücking toy car that has a missing part."

"I know. I didn't say that, now did I?"

Harry is silent again and staring down at his tattered boots. If he has so much money, why does he wear the same worn out boots when he could easily buy new ones? I push that unimportant thought away and try to think of what I'm going to do next.

"Maybe I could try not to be as fücked up for you." Harry says. "But it's not going to happen right away. I'll need time, a lot of fücking time."

"So what does this mean?" I ask.

"That I'm yours, for a little while at least. I'll be yours until you get tired of me, which I'm sure won't take long."

I'm his? I immediately start to close myself off. I suddenly don't know what I want. Am I willing to open myself up emotionally to Harry? I just pleaded with him and now I'm going back and fourth with myself. Maybe I'm as fücked up as he claims to be.

"Do you want this?" Harry asks, hoping down from the bar and nearing me. "Do you want me?" The closer he gets, the faster my heart beats.

Harry's body is just inches from mine and he reaches out to grab my hands. He backs us up toward the closest wall and leans down to kiss me. I am still figuring out how to answer when Bree enters the basement, interrupting our moment and giving me a few more seconds to decide what I want.

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