Huis-Clos » h.s

s i x

After I kissed him, Harry stayed silent as if he didn't understand why I was actually doing that. To be honest, I didn't know either. It might have seemed totally crazy and aberrant, but something even stronger than my reason pushed me to do it. And I think, the most worrying part of it all wasn't being the one to kiss him, but feeling absolutely nothing wrong about it.

Indeed, I should have had remorses or regrets. I should have cursed to myself or pushed him back. I should have felt angry for doing that. But I haven't.

He then lead me back to his bedroom for the night, taking my dinner on a tray with him and pretending that I needed to rest because I looked feverish and I was going to have vertigos. But I was not. I guess he said that because of my latest urge and the kiss I gave him. But maybe it was better for both of us to put it down to my supposed feverishness.

Maybe I really am losing my mind. Maybe I already have.

But then, he took me back to his bed, he made me sit on it and changed my bandages. He took care of me. He also wanted to undress me so I would be comfortable for the night. I wasn't really enthusiastic for it but then, I remembered he used to do it when he washed me in the small bathroom, in the basement. He already saw me naked and he has never looked at me in an inappropriate way. So I just let him do and, once more, found myself almost naked in front of him. Then, he gave me something to sleep in - another white dress that looked exactly like all the other ones he already gave me - before walking out without a word.

I remember I heard the sound of the key in the door that meant he locked me in and that didn't surprise me that much. Time has gone by and I don't really know how long I have been lying here for, staring at the ceiling in the dark.

Maybe an hour. Maybe three.

Finally, after some time, I hear him open the door again. Actually, I wasn't expecting him to come back before the dawn, but he did. I hear and feel him approaching quietly in the dark. Since my eyes have got used to darkness, I can picture him well as he is making his way along the bed. He is holding something in his hand. I try to breathe as silently as possible, pretending to be deeply asleep.

But when he bends over me, and covers me up with a plaid, I sit up in bed. I wasn't expected him to bring me another blanket - even if, I have to admit, it's rather cold in his bedroom - and that was really sweet of him.

"You're not asleep," he states and it almost sounds like a reproach.

"I couldn't," I say truthfully.

At my words, he sits next to me on the bed and turn the bedside lamp on before gently putting his hand on my cheek. His skin is slightly illuminated by the golden light of the lamp.

"Your eyes," he says quietly, "they used to shine so bright."

I lower my eyes when he whispers those words. I don't like him mentioning my life before he came in, it's none of his business, and hearing him talking about it just feels like he is soiling it. I don't know what to say but I don't even think he understood he is the reason why they do not shine anymore, though.

He run me dry and I have now tired lifeless eyes cause he burnt them out.

"They do not shine because of you," I whisper but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I silently pray he didn't hear me.

When I look up at him, I can see his soft expression has vanished. He takes a deep breath and clenches his teeth.

"I think it'd d be better if you'd go back down in the basement," he says curtly.

What ? No! I don't understand. I should have never said that, but that's not a reason to send me back there. I thought we were past that. I thought he was now trusting me. I thought my kiss proved him I wasn't going anywhere - even if my actual aim still was to get my freedom back. Apparently, I thought wrong.