Antidote ;Sequel to Kryptonite;

Chapter Twenty-Three: Consumption

"Where the fuck are you going?" His words were like an ice pick, jamming into my skull. The door slammed open and rattled with force.

"Away from here," I didn't turn to look at him. I kept throwing clothes in my suitcase, knowing that if I slowed down I would talk myself out of it. I had to leave. I'm tired of these mind games and these walls that keep getting built up. I had no idea what was going through his head but I'm so sick and tired of feeling like I finally understood just to be thrown in the dark again.

"Christina," he used my full name like a scolding parent.

"Get out," My hands froze while I was trying to stuff things into my suitcase for a second. I kept my tone dry and my back rigid. I could hear his heavy feet walking closer as he walked to the other side of the bed. I didn't make eye contact and furrowed my eyebrows. I went back to throwing clothes into my suitcase; not caring how wrinkled they are. Harry stuck his hands in and starting to throw clothes behind him, ruining all my progress. "Stop," I finally looked at him. "You're a fucking liar," I spat.

"I didn't lie," Harry bent over me to my suitcase and yanked the clothes out of my hand, tossing them behind him like a child. The anger in my throat was burning and I had to focus on it to keep from crying.

"You said you didn't have sex with her," I pushed the suitcase in his direction quickly. He stepped back as it toppled off the bed.

"I was telling the truth. We didn't have sex. Everything else didn't mean anything," Harry crossed his arms across his chest.

"It was still a lie, Harry. You never told me you were intimate with her." Why did it feel like I was lecturing a toddler? The pressure began to build at the front of my forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed against the headache, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He raised his voice. My eyes popped open and I narrowed them at him. No, it wasn't fucking okay.

"Sorry doesn't always cut it, okay?" I mocked. 

"What else do you want me to say? I didn't think it would twist your knickers this hard."

"You're right- you didn't think. You don't think. You just take what you want and do what you want. Do you even stop to think about your actions?"

"It was before you were back, Chris," he tried to defend my accusations. His arms were held out in front of him. "What was I supposed to do the second I saw you? 'Oh hey babe! Know we haven't seen each other but I wanted to fuck her brains out and we did some stuff'. How would that help?" His words cut.  I froze and looked at him, my mouth dropping open. Harry reached up and grabbed a fist of his curls. "No- not like that. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pleaded. Harry tried to step closer to me but I just stepped backwards. 

"You're not helping your case." 

"I know but-"

"No, shut up." I raised my voice and silence fell between us. I tried to take a deep breath but the anger was bubbling. "I feel lied to. I feel..." I clenched the shirt in my hand tighter. "Like this stupid game needs to be over."

"Game?" Harry's eyes widened. "It's not a game. I'm not a dick-"

"Well, you're certainly acting like one now."

"Will you stop interrupting me?"

"Will you stop lying to me?" I yelled again, throwing the shirt at his chest. His automatic reaction was to lift a hand to catch it. He looked down at it and sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Chrissy-" I held my hand up to cut him off but his tone got sharper. "No," he said firmly. "Let me fucking finish, please." I looked down at his shoes, not wanting to meet his eyes. I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from screaming at him. What has this turned to? I've never fought with anyone like this in my entire life. Even with my mom, we would yell a couple of times and go to our separate rooms. Harry trapped me in my own room and wasn't going anywhere.