Good Intentions

4. Uncharted Territory

After my shower I dried off and put on the clothes Harry had lent me. They were soft and smelled of warm sandalwood and vanilla. The shirt did not hug my body and I had to tighten the strings slightly on the shorts to keep them up. I got an odd feeling of security simply from putting on his clothes. As I dried off my hair I realized I didn't know where he kept his brush, if he even owned one. I didn't want to go searching through his things, so I decided it would be better to just ask him instead. The doorknob felt slightly damp with condensation as I twisted it open. The cool air sent a shiver down my spine as I stepped out into the hallway. It was dark as I ventured past the guest room Harry showed me earlier. I reached his room, but his door was shut. I don't know if I should knock because he could be sleeping, it is past two in the morning at least. I decided I would give it a try and lightly knocked on the door.

I heard rusting from inside and then footsteps approaching the door. My eyes could not help raking over his toned figure as he opened the door in only a pair of short. His body was littered with intricate tattoos. They were captivating because I have never really been attracted to tattoos before now. I tore my eyes away and found his gorgeous eyes once more, which were burning into my pupils. Red flashed across my face as I realized he must know I was staring.

"Is everything alright?" Harry broke the silence between us, thankfully ignoring my gawking.

"Do you have a hairbrush I could use?" I smiled up at him, hoping my cheeks were no longer a bright red, maybe he would think it was from the temperature of the water. He nodded and turned back into his room. I stood awkwardly at the threshold of his door watching his toned back as he walked over to his nightstand. I was shocked by the skin of his back not being covered in tattoos. The contrast between his muscular biceps and bare back seemed to add to his build.

I was lost in thought as to why he had decided to leave his back free of markings when I was pulled back by a brush being placed in front of me. "Sorry I didn't think to put in the bathroom for you after your shower." How can someone be so thoughtful and apologetic towards a guest he didn't know he was going to have?

"I should be apologizing to you. I'm the one who woke you up this late over a hairbrush." I could feel the heat reentering my face as I just now thought of how stupid it was to wake him up for a hairbrush. He already lent me clean clothes after offering me a place to stay. On top of that he saved me from a potential assault mere hours ago.

Emotions flooded my mind with unrelenting brutality. Fear, anger, sadness and pain overwhelmed my senses and poured out of me. Thoughts of being alone in that alley tormented me as anger and fear built up inside of me towards the one who lead me to that alley. Tears escaped my eyes and ran burning streaks down my face.

Harry wasted no time pulling me into him, holding me tight to his chest. He did not try to hush me or tell me everything was okay because he knew it was not okay and I needed to get these emotions out in order to heal. He soothed me by running one hand over my wet hair and gently holding me against him with the other. The hairbrush fell between our feet as I wrapped my arms around his torso. He was like a space heater in this frigid hallway, but to me, he was the sun shinning on a dark, cold world.

After what had felt like hours of our embrace, my sobs subdued to heavy breathing as I tried to catch my breath. It wasn't until my breathing had returned to a healthy intake did Harry pull away slightly. He peered down at my face, but I felt ashamed for crumbling in front of him so I did not meet his worried gaze. He brought the hand that had been on the back of my neck to below my chin. He tilted my head up to look at him. I was not met with a look of pity or confusion. He did not look at me the way someone would look at an old, broken doll. Instead he looked at me with an expression of understanding and openness. He looked inviting, as if he wanted me to pour all of my troubles onto him so that together we could find our way out of them. For that I was grateful because I did not want to be viewed as damaged goods, but I will need help getting through what I experienced tonight.