Bad Blood (h.s.)

Part Forty-Six

Part Forty-Six

Harry.

Cold. Sore. And a massive headache. The bright sun infiltrates through the curtains, my arm reaching across the bed to curl into Beth. My eyes dart open to see an empty bed, the cold sheets coming in contact with my skin. I can't remember anything happening last night; not after Beth going to use the restroom. That was the last thing I remember.

I sit up and see that the sheets of her side of the bed are nearly untouched, almost as if she wasn't sleeping with me. Why wasn't she sleeping with me? I get out of bed, my jeans still on my body but my torso completely covered in bruises.

Shit.

I walk out of the bedroom and into the living room, the clock on the wall signaling it's nearly four. I see no one in the room and I run a hand through my hair, fearing the absolute worst. I walk further into the room and see bunched up blankets on the couch. My eyes land on the dark brown locks and her sleeping face, her hands clutching onto a blanket. Her body is wrapped in fleece and she looks absolutely freezing. I did this. What did I do to cause her to be out here...alone?

I move towards her and kneel down in front of her, cupping her tiny cheek in my hand, holding her. Her eyelashes move along her cheekbones, softly opening her eyes and looking at me. Her frail hand grips my wrist and pulls my hand off her cheek. I shake my head and lean my head against the pillow next to hers.

"What did I do?" I whisper, sadness running through my voice. I am so afraid I hurt her, did something to make her fear me. I run my hand through her hair and kiss her forehead.

"Please."

She closes her eyes and I lean towards her, my eyes intently watching every feature. Her flawless skin smooth along my thumb, I just want her safe.

"You fought. You nearly killed him," she whispers, her voice fear-stricken. I grip her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her cold fingers.

"I'm so sorry baby. I didn't mean to. I shouldn't have drunk as much as I did."

Her skin is freezing, I want nothing more than to hold her, but her fear is what's worrying me. I did something else and she's not telling me.

"What else did I do? Did I say something?"

She hesitantly nods and I lay my head closer to hers. "You told me I was sexy and that you wanted to fuck me against a wall. I felt hurt by that because 'fucking' is such a vulgar term. I thought I was more important to you."

"You are more to me than that. I would never do that to you, especially while drunk. You are beautiful baby and I didn't mean anything by saying those things. You mean the world to me."

"You also kept saying how much you don't deserve me and how much you love me. You said things like how you're fucked up and that you shouldn't even be with me. Why would you even think those things?"

Her eyes search mine and her hand continually tightened with every word she spoke. She seems angry; her eyebrows crunching together.

"I said those things because I used to beat up anyone who got in my way, therefore not deserving anything good to happen to me. And you came into my life and have made me change for the better. Fighting for no reason has become my past and whenever I do it now, it is because I want to protect you and keep you safe."

She brings her head closer to mine and places a small peck to my lips. I smile and she lets go of my hand, her tiny fingers gripping the blanket again.