Malignant [h.s]

Thirty Five

I couldn't sleep the minute I got back to my room. I just sat in my bed and stared at the wall, thinking about everything that's happened since I was brought upon here. From being hung over the second floor railing by Harry's grasp around my neck to kissing him for the first time in an alley way- my stay here has definitely been eventful.

Not to mention how intense it got the last time we kissed. It was way more then what the times before were like. His kissing was the perfect mix of aggression and passion. The minute he slid his hand between my legs I was astounded on how his single touch can drive me crazy. It's so embarrassing to look back and think on how he made me feel, but I don't regret it.

And that's what scares me the most.

I know we aren't going to do that anymore because of the drama we get out of it- but damn I can't get his stupid soft lips out of my head.

Harry left for work around eight today, not saying one word to me all morning. I did kinda barricade myself in my room- but he didn't even pop in or anything. I know he is probably just pissed or something, but I really don't care. We made an agreement and if he is angry about it then that's not my problem. He's always been the one saying that 'we should never be doing what we're doing', and stuff.

He can stick to his own rules for once.

I eventually leave my room and get down to the kitchen, seeing the familiar white note on the table. I walk over to the marble top island and grasp the flimsy piece of paper in my hands.

-BATHROOM
-BEDROOM
-DUSTING

HOME BY 5

I groan in anger and toss the note in the garbage. I feel like I spend everyday cleaning this place but it still needs to be done all over again.

I grab a banana from the fruit bowl I laid out on the counter and peel it half way, eating it quickly because I know I have a lot of work to do in only a short amount of time.

I decide to start with his room because I know it's a big mess so it's going to be time consuming. I don't even want to be around Harry that much right now so cleaning his room and going through everything with his scent on it is very distracting when I'm just trying not to give him any time in my mind.

I start by walking around and picking up all the items of clothing on the ground. Literally every article of material is black, I don't see one pattern or different colour anywhere. God no wonder he is so depressing to me around, I'd be so rude if I could only wear black all the time.

I guess no one is forcing him to wear black though- it's just a weird choice he has.

I throw all his clothes in the hamper and start to make his giant king size bed. Why does this man need such a huge bed for just him? Like I understand that the average person enjoys a nice queen size, but Harry has one even bigger then that, and it's just for him.

I make his bed and lay the decorative pillows nicely on it. He always just throws the pillows on the ground and leaves them there with no intention for putting them back on the bed.

I clean off the clutter around his bedside table and organize everything as needed. My eyes catch a glimpse of the stack of black leather books again that are stored on the bottom shelf of his nightstand. I remember seeing those books last time and was so tempted to grab one, but didn't.