Drowning

Eight;

As I walked to the bathrooms, I felt a hand fall upon my shoulder.

"Zee, how's it going?"

"Oh, hi, Daniel." I mumble. "Just going to the bathroom."

"Need a helping hand?" he says, stepping closer to my side. We were in the hall now, where nobody else was.

"No."

"Aw, c'mon, Zee. You know you want it," he says sleazily, his hand coming down to my arse and giving it a tight squeeze. I flinch, stepping faster now.

"Leave me alone, Daniel." I say, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.

"So, the boyf's a world champion boxer?"

"Yep."

"Cute," he hums. "Bet he isn't fucking you as good as I could, Zee." he says. My blood boiled and my skin crawled, the familiar feeling of violation consuming me.

"I'm going to the bathroom." I say, running ahead and entering the ladies restroom.

With tears in my eyes, I rushed into a cubicle, locked the door, and allowed for my head to sit in my hands as tears streamed endlessly from my eyes.

I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him.

The tears had fallen for a while now, and it suddenly occurred to me that I'd abandoned Harry in the party room.

A few more minutes passed as I tried to regain my composure. I began to head a knocking on the door. Shit.

The knocking continued and then I heard my name. It was Harry.

Panicked, I rushed out from the stall and checked my messed up appearance in the mirror. I took some tissue and wiped away the mascara that had run, and then did the quickest reapplication I ever had, suddenly thankful for carrying little travel sized makeup bits in my purse.

I heard my name being called once more, and with a deep breath, I opened the door.

"Zahara, what's going on?" Harry says, sounding relieved to see me.

"Can we leave?" I ask, my voice threatening to wobble.

"What? Are you okay? What's happened?" he asks, sounding panicked.

"I'll tell you all about it once we're out of here." I say quietly. Harry's face faltered, and he opened his arms and took me into a hug. I was surprised by his action, but allowed myself to find comfort there.

"We can't drive anywhere," Harry says. "I hadn't planned on leaving this building, and I drove here."

"Did you book a room?" I ask.

"Yeah,"

"So did I," I say.

"Let's go to your room, yeah?" he says softly. "Need some fresh air first?"

"No, let's just go up," I sigh.

"Okay," Harry nods, giving me a sweet smile.

We lugged ourselves up the stairs, to the second floor, where my room for the night was.

I opened the door, allowing us both to enter, and then closed it again with a heavy sigh.

With my back against the door, Harry walked over, towering over me. His large hands cupped my face as his eyes bored into my own.

"Talk to me, Zahara." he says softly, stroking a thumb across my cheek.

"We're alone now," I say. "You don't need to act like you're my boyfriend," I mumble, looking down at the ground.