Pain 2: Him (H.S)

Chapter 10

(This chapter is extra long, but I hope you enjoy!)

Yesterday was possibly the worst day of my life. It's still hard to cope and I'm trying to comprehend all the insane things that happened in such a small amount of time, it's mind boggling. I didn't sleep one second last night. After promising to marry him, we spent the rest of the night in bed. Not talking, or explaining ourselves or how stupid we are, but we just remained in each others arms until he fell asleep. I couldn't. I just couldn't wrap my head around the fact that the man beside me almost killed himself because of me, yet there he was, arms around me, head against my chest, loving me with all his life. The crickets and sounds of cars passing down the road were the only sounds filling the streets and quiet house. I purposely put my phone on silent so that if Alan or my mom called, it wouldn't wake Harry. He texted me asking how things were going and I replied giving him honest updates about what we did and how things went and he did as well with how everything had went with him and my mom.

I was stuck in silence throughout the night, making a beat to his faint breathing. He didn't shower, and I didn't see the need to force him to so I literally slept on his bloody body. It didn't bother me as much as it usually would. Before when he was hurt, it wasn't his blood on him, but it was yesterday and it made it somewhat less gross. If that makes any sense. And for the first time in a really long time, just for those few hours, everything felt normal.

"Aleevonne, stop cleaning." Harry walks into the room after his shower. I took one before him since mine would last shorter and he took a while this time because of the all the dried blood that was left on his body. I spent that time cleaning the mess he made. Bags of broken wood and boxes of shattered glass sit outside his bedroom door and his room feels so vacant. The only thing left is his bed and half beaten dresser.

Without the blood hiding the blemishes on his body, it looks as if a thousand knives had cut him. Cuts and bruises scar his skin, and now that the cut is clean and noticeable, it's definitely something that needs to be checked by a doctor. Harry's curly damp hair is brushed back, finger marks proven that he did it himself, and his towel is wrapped low on his waist; water drops racing down his stomach and arms and I can't help but to notice the increased size of his arms.

I felt hot in my clothes so I decided to change into his boxers and t-shirt. I tried looking for shorts that would fit but they were all too big on me and I had to get myself out of those tight jeans. I brought my own clothes but I wanted to wear his instead. It's a habit.

"I'm almost done." I cross the room picking up his now useless lamp and placing it back into it's spot beside his made bed. He strides over to me, standing behind me stopping my hand from fixing the lamp shade, and pulls me back against his chest. I can feel the wetness of it bleed through his thin white shirt on me as his lips begin to plant small kisses on my neck, and all at the same time, I feel both relaxed and tense.

"It's fine." He murmurs locking his arms around my stomach, "I'll finish it."

"There's nothing left." I laugh and I feel his lips smile against my neck.

He's smiling. He's finally smiling.

He pulls away, first kissing my cheek, and walks to his drawers as I set myself on the bed. Crossing my legs, I pick at the material of his plaid boxers and watch him dress himself. He's aching with every move he makes, badly attempting to hide it from me but it makes me feel horrible watching him.

"Do you need help?" I sit up but he quickly declines.

"No," He shakes his head and drops his towel. I don't know why I'm looking away, but I don't feel like it's right to look.

"Are you okay?" As I divert my eyes to him, he snaps the waistband of his red boxer brief against his torso and bends to pick up his damp towel.

No. I'm not okay.