Solace ~ h.s.

⪻ 56 ⪼

only four more chapters after this one xx

⪻⪻⪼⪼

In an instant I'm kneeling before the porcelain toilet in the luxurious bathroom of our flat, emptying the contents of my stomach into the shimmering bowl. The only sound that can be heard throughout the otherwise silent apartment are my sobs and heaving breaths.

When I get heavily stressed or really worked up, I get ill. It's my body's way of ridding myself of all the bad toxins that are being cooped up. It's been this way since I was a teenager and no amount of relaxation or meditation techniques has helped.

Continuously, the tears fall, staining my cheeks with the moisture. I don't bother to wipe the tears as I cry hunched over the toilet. I simply let them fall into the contaminated water as I grip onto the sides of the bowl. I need to calm myself down if I don't want to get sick again.

Unfortunately for me, that nightmare had brought up a fear inside me that I didn't even know existed. It was almost as if my entire time since the accident was all an illusion, but instead of only losing my parents I was losing Harry, and everything I've worked toward since as well. That is my worst nightmare: losing Harry, losing my passion, and reliving That Night.

"Annie?" The small voice startles me from behind, causing my sweat stained forehead to meet the cool porcelain as I look up at who is in the doorway.

"Go back to bed, Edward." I tell him through a scratchy throat and sobs. I don't want him to see me like this, it's embarrassing and humiliating. Why hadn't I shut the door?

"What's wrong?"

"I said, go back to bed. I'm fine." I tell him, still not lifting my head to look at him. I try not to be too forceful, but with my exhaustion and sick feeling in my stomach, I fear I am just that.

When I don't hear anything for a few moments, I figure he left, leaving me to cry to myself in the one bathroom we have in this flat. Letting a quiet sob leave my mouth, I wipe my mouth with a piece of toilet tissue before covering my mouth with my hand in hopes of remaining quiet. The last thing I want to do is alarm him more, or wake Harry.

"Belle?"

Too late.

"My God, love, are you alright?" Harry is at my side in a instant, his hand on my back.

As soon as he's beside me, I feel the overwhelming sense of more tears rush over my body and I'm left sobbing loudly. Harry lays his hand on my head before peering over me to look inside the bowl. He pulls me to his chest, away from the toilet as he flushes my sick away from sight.

"Edward, go back to bed."

"Is Annie okay?"

"Yes, she's okay. Just go back to bed."

Hearing the tiny footsteps leave us be, I pry open my eyes to the bright bathroom around us. I'm pitifully curled up on Harry's chest, leaning into his shoulder and letting my tears soak his bare skin.

"I'm sorry." I cry out, having real no idea why I'm apologizing.

Perhaps I'm apologizing on behalf of waking everyone in the flat up or maybe it's because I feel as if I'm being overdramatic. I keep telling myself it was just a nightmare, that there is nothing I still need to be worked up about, but I can't help it. My brain is spiraling out of control, taking me with it on this crazy ride.

"What are you sorry for, love?" Harry whispers, pressing a kiss to the back of my head as he reaches around and takes my clammy hand.

"I don't know." I blubber out, causing Harry to chuckle lately despite my state.