indecisive (on hold)

15.

We continue to lay like that until I move myself.

"Where are you going?" His voice is rushed, almost worried.

"Bathroom." I chuckle and smile.

He nods and rests his head back onto the couch. My head's still spinning from everything that happened only minutes ago. It is so much to take in. Harry hurt himself. Or used to? Why? I make my way up the stairs slowly, my legs feeling heavy. I slide into the bathroom and take a seat on the closed lid. I rest my head into my hands, pulling at my loose hairs. My breathing is heavy as I try to process everything. Harry self harmed. Harry cut himself. Harry. The boy with the tattoos and piercings. The boy who looks so tough and strong, was broken.

I flush the toilet to make it seem that I had actually used it. I rinse my face and hands. I look into the mirror. My eyes are a mixture of blue and purple. What the hell? Two colors? My iris is blue with little streaks of purple. I understand the blue, I feel sorry for Harry and I am sad, but the purple is throwing me off. I guess, I care for him? Of course I care for him, but my eyes haven't turned purple since...him.

I grip the edge of the sink as memories flood through my mind. The sink covers in ice, spreading out from under my palms. I really need to learn how to control this. I shake off the thoughts, close my eyes and take deep breaths. My eyes return to their grey. I clench my fists which melts the ice and I head back downstairs to Harry.

"Took you long enough." Harry teases as he comes into my view.

He is taking up most of the couch, his legs extended, covering almost all of it. I giggle and shake my head. I lift his long legs and place them onto my lap as I sit. I fold my legs and I hear a deep chuckle come from Harry. I turn to him and his smile is bright, like it always is. My God, he is an angel.

"What?"

"You look like a little kid."

"How?"

"They way you're sitting." He nods toward my legs. I look down and smile. I like sitting criss-crossed. I always sit like this.

"It's comfortable." I retort while giggling.

He stops laughing and just stares at me. His smile returns and he shakes his head, his hair bouncing. I stare at him with a small smile and ask for an explanation.

"You're adorable."

I giggle and and place my hands under my chin like a princess.

"Thank you."

He nods and we return our attention to the TV. We bicker over who the murderer is for a good twenty minutes, throughout the show. I end up being correct and brag. I soon feel the itch. The questions are still there and they will not leave. I feel the. My curiosity is eating at me and I can't take it anymore.

"Harry?" I focus my eyes onto his face and he turns to me.

"Yes, love?"

"Why?"

His face falls. He doesn't need an explanation. He knows what I'm talking about. His mouth parts and his eyes look at everything, except my own. He takes in a sharp breath before answering.

"I would rather not go into details, but something happened when I was younger. It was.."

He pauses to take a deep breath.

"Horrendous. Horrific. Anyway, I was blamed and I blamed myself for it. I felt like I deserved it...like you said."

I slowly take in his words. I had hoped this would end my curiosity, but it sparks it more. What happened when he was younger? Who blamed him? How old was he? Does he have nightmares about it? Does the memory still haunt him? I ignore my wondering mind and nod along with his words.

"So, I...hurt myself throughout the years." His voice sounds so pained. "I eventually got away from the problem. I forgave myself slightly, I do still regret it, but I realized hurting myself wasn't going to change anything."

I don't know how to respond, so I move and wrap my arms around his neck. He wraps his around my waist. I run my fingers through his hair as he breathes deeply.

"I'm glad that you are okay now," I whisper into his shoulder. I feel his lips curve up against my neck.

"Me too," he breathes.

***

Harry ends up leaving an hour later. It is around ten and I am tired. I decide to go to bed. I trudge up the stairs and climb into my blankets. Turning the lap off, I close my eyes and my body relaxes.

"Stop!" I cry. "Please!" I duck under his swinging arm, which connects with the wall behind me and run to the front door. I reach it, but it's locked. I cry harder as I try to fumble with it. It is useless as I hear his voice coming closer.

"Do not run from me!" He booms and I slide against the door, trying to shrink. "You do not turn your back on me. You will regret it!"

He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls it. I scream out in pain. He yanks me off the floor to face him. Tears soak my reddened cheeks. I can already feel my eye swelling shut. His face is twisted, a vein popping out of his neck. He is angry and again, I do not know the reason why. He throws me onto the floor. My head smacks against the tile and my head begins to throb. I feel the air getting knocked out of me as he kicks my stomach repeatedly.

"Kill me." I whisper as my blood flows from my wounds. He ceases his assault and I hear him chuckle deeply. The sound sickens me and I immediately want to vomit. I don't' dare remove my eyes from the floor.

"With pleasure."

My eyes snap open. I am covered in my sweat. My vision is orange and my eyes dart around. I am alone. I remove myself from the sheets to lay on top of them. I try to catch my breath. These nightmares will haunt me forever. I let a few tears slide down my cheeks before steadying myself.

I look out my window. There is a little light showing. I check the time. 4:56. There is no point in going back to sleep so I decide to take a shower.The hot water doesn't relax my muscles. I remove myself from the bathroom and sit on my bed, the towel tightly wrapped around my body. I look at the clock and it's almost six. I was in their for almost an hour. I lift my eyes from the floor and freeze when I see a figure standing in the corner.