Passion || h.s.

Chapter 15

So, I know that my updates take a long time, so maybe to get them sooner, if you want them, you guys could comment and vote. It really motivates. Anyway, here is the last warning for any explicit material. Read at your own risk! Okay, enjoy!

Michela's POV

I didn't remember falling asleep when Harry got home, but then again I didn't remember Harry even coming home. I could barely hear past the voices in my head, let alone the front door open. All I knew was that I wanted a drink, and I wanted it as soon as I could get it. But as soon as my fingers touched the cold bottle I had bought, I couldn't bring myself to drink it. Images of Harry flashed through my mind, making me stop in my tracks. Broken pictures of him begging me to stay with him, thoughts of the way he looked broken on the ground in the glass of my empty bottle made me shutter.

So instead, I poured it down the sink, watching it drip away with all the thoughts I had about giving in, giving up. Because maybe, there was someone who cared enough to help me, and maybe he just wasn't home yet. But as soon as the bottle was gone the voices came back and I couldn't stop myself from hiding.

I knew it was late when I had woken up, and I also knew that I was not alone in my room. Harry was sitting next to me on my bed, twirling the strands of my hair. His eyes were low, and I could tell he was crying. My hand moved to his, attempting to make him stop, but he just kept going, like he was unable to stop.

"He's been doing it for an hour Michela." Manny's voice was close by, causing me to sit up and look to him. He looked exhausted, sitting alone in a large chair in front of my bed.

"What are you doing here?"

"You weren't coming in for your appointments, and Harry knew you were hurting." Harry had stopped playing with my hair, coming out of his zombie like phase. Instead he looked at me with confusion, than rested his head down against the pillow, looking out the window to the mountain. Always the mountain. I knew I was hurting him, and I hated it. My hands went to his hair, and now I took the position of calming him, rhythmically running my fingers through the curls.

"Well I am fine."

"Michela, I know you're seeing things again. People. And it is okay, you just need help." Manny was using his condescending doctor voice on me, and I wasn't having it.

"Even if that were true, I already have help." I gestured to Harry, smiling when he grabbed my hand. I knew he was tired, worn out from my outburst.

"Is it true you're drinking again Michela?"

"Yes," I answered, unable to lie to Manny.

"You know what that does to you," he tod me, still holding a calming voice. Manny never got loud with me, always keeping his temper. He loved me, I could tell. I loved him too, but I didn't know how to express that same love for him. I was terrible at showing my love, I always would be, and I didn't know how to fix that.

"Yes, I do. But it makes the voices go away." He wrote something down on a notepad he held in his lap.

"You're hearing voices again?"

"Yes."

"Who's?" He already knew who it was, because it was the same every time it happened.

"Ryan. Ryan and Joey. But Joey started today, and it went away." This caught both Harry and Manny's attention, both of them looking at me.

"Went away?" This was the first time Harry had spoken sent I had woken up.

"Michela, are you saying that you heard it and then it just went away like it never came."