Duplicity [h.s]

26

I turn off the shower, the warm water stopping from then rain head spout. I ring out my hair and open up the fogged glass shower door, grabbing the white towel hanging to my left.

I left Harry's room a half hour ago, and I'm suppose to meet him again to go on a walk for lunch.

The things that have happened since the moment I opened my eyes today were too much to handle. My whole shower was just me deep in thought about so many different aspects of today and yesterday.

I couldn't go anywhere in my clothes from last night, I had to bathe. So he told me to meet him at his room in an hour so we could go.

I have no idea what to expect today, and a huge part of me didn't want to go with him anywhere. I don't know why he wanted me to come along, we do not like each other and frankly I'm still terrified of his natural being. The only reason I was going was from the innocence of my curious brain telling me maybe something good will come from this.

Maybe he'll tolerate my existence more, and maybe I won't be so scared of him.

We did hold up a whole conversation without him threatening me. I didn't appreciate his invasive body language but at least I now understand the man can control himself and I don't need to fear him actually assaulting me.

I believe him when he says he didn't take advantage of me last night. After thinking long and hard, I narrowed down reasons we didn't have sex.

My clothes were still on and intact.

I wouldn't of woken up with him by my side, he would've probably left me somewhere where I wouldn't suspect him at all.

And I'm sure I would've felt some sort of discomfort waking up today if I was assaulted.

All these reasons are convincing me to believe he was telling the truth. I know I could be one hundred percent wrong on this, but I was trusting my instinct. I don't think anyone got in my pants last night, it just doesn't add up.

Plus he told me to go to a doctor and check if I didn't believe him. It could just be him bluffing, but I honestly think I wasn't touched last night.

With the towel tucked over my chest, I walk over to the sink and start brushing my teeth. My hand runs across the sink mirror to rid the condensation. Once I cleared a visible patch, the first thing I come to see was my dark under eyes from mascara residue that didn't come off in the shower.

While my toothbrush was lodged in my cheek, I grabbed the makeup wipes with just free hand. My nimble fingers fiddling with the seal, trying and struggling to peel it open to retrieve a wipe.

"Fucking—" I cuss to myself through toothpaste, struggling to get one out with one hand.

I finally retrieved the damp wipe, bringing it to my under eyes to erase any of the cosmetic affliction on my face.

I get what I could off, tossing it to the side while still brushing my teeth. I bend down and spit, beginning to brush my tongue. As I reach the back I gag, knowing that always happens when I go to far. If I gag twice brushing then it's game over and I'm puking.

I spit and finish, rinsing out my mouth while putting my toothbrush down. I head to the door in my towel, opening it up to feel the gust of cold air as I left the steamed filled room.

"I didn't know I was in your portfol—"

I screamed in startle, turning my head and turning to the left and seeing Harry laying against the headboard of my bed with a sucker in my mouth. He turns his head to me at my scream, my portfolio open in his hands.