Aftermath // h.s

Chapter 3

Things were quiet. You didn't say anything because you were already fighting enough with yourself, you didn't want or need to throw Harry into the mix. None of this was his fault, but there was an anger bubbling in your stomach. Denial hadn't even come into play. As much as you wanted to wish it never happened, it was too raw.

"You're welcome to go and lie down if you need..." Harry said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don't need anything," you snapped.

"Okay..." Harry frowned.

"I want water," you grumbled, dragging the back of your hand over your mouth and going into his kitchen.

"There's some bottles in the fridge."

He was keeping his distance, pivoting in his spot and stepping just into the doorway. This was not something that he could comprehend. He wished he could help and say that he understood how you were feeling but he couldn't. He couldn't imagine how this would affect you. He wasn't even really sure if it had clicked in your head yet. You had been relatively quiet about things, calm even. Now, he could feel the anger and he didn't want to provoke. So now it was his turn to stay quiet.

You unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, taking gulps of water down and closing your eyes, ignoring you boyfriend who watched on with concerned.

There were so many thoughts, so many emotions screaming at you and it was blurring your mind and blocking anything that could help you think straight. It was messy. You felt so... dirty, so ashamed. Another part of you felt like none of this could actually be real. You wanted to disassociate until these horrific memories stopped flashing through your head. All you wanted was to feel okay. You were just angry. At the person who did this, at yourself, at Harry, at the cops, any anyone who tried to imagine how you felt, because they had no idea. They could say it all they wanted, but until they went through it themselves, until they were taken advantage of, until they were raped... they couldn't say shit.