Duplicity [h.s]

45

Aven Brooks

Standing in the bathroom mirror it was a quarter to nine at night, my hair was dripping wet from the shower I just had. I was standing in the mirror staring at my half naked body, just in my bra and underwear.

The left side of my neck had hickeys all over, a very prominent one right where my shoulder met my neck. When I gently grazed the aggressive area with the pad of my thumb, the sensitivity made me remember how viciously he bit and sucked on that piece of skin the night before.

When I ventured down my body, I saw the small imprints if tiny yellowed bruises around my hips and on my thighs. I remember how hard he was gripping them as I was squirming in pleasure. There where two thin scratch marks across my hip bone too, where I remembered he adjusted his grip that kept my still.

You can tell exactly what happens just by looking at me, he literally left his history on my skin.

These marks would be a lot more joyous to look back on if last night didn't end so abrupt and upsetting. Him leaving was a big downer to end everything, but I don't know what I really expected from him.

The second I start putting expectations on Harry—everything will crumble. That's how this works.

I've been in bed all day, ordered food to my room as I couldn't help but feel on edge leaving the premise alone. I had a really shitty sleep, I was tossing and turning all night in nerves from being alone and with the way Harry and I left things.

I tried to build up the courage to go to his room to clear things up, but I was slightly embarrassed. So I've been psyching myself out to go.

I've been over thinking it all day, I don't wanna say I regret what he we did last night but I really was starting to. I couldn't narrow it down on why he had to leave so quick, and all the answers point to the fact I did something bad.

Was their something wrong with me?

So I've been in my room, and I haven't heard from him all day. Last night he told me we'd talk tomorrow, but it was night time now and I haven't heard a sound from him.

Maybe he was done with me. Every though it was against my pride, I'd be hurt if he didn't talk to me again.

I was slightly annoyed by the hickeys, because they were peppered all over the one side of my neck. It was going to be hard to hide them, I've never had ones so aggressive. I had to practice how to cover them up with makeup because one look at these marks from the rest of the band and I'll never live it down.

Walking out of the steam filled bathroom, I lead over to my suitcase that was open and exploded of clothes. I quickly grabbed a pair of loose grey track pants and a light blue hoodie, throwing them on my body and untucking my damp hair from the collar so it fanned down my back.

After getting dressed I went over to my bed, crawling up to sit with my back against the headboard. Bringing my knees to my chest I stared at the television up on the opposing wall, grabbing the remote and flicking through the channels until I find something that will satisfy me.

I was so bored.

Channel through channel I flick through all of them the hotel offered—but nothing was interesting enough for me to commit. Like all day, my mind has been relapsing over and over on Harry and what happened. It was hard to not think about it when we left things so unsettled. He hasn't talked to me since and I hate that I care so much about it.

I'm usually good at just pushing problems and issues back for a while, but this was aching at me all day.

At least we didn't have sex, because if he just booked it after that than I'd probably feel pretty used— even if I pretended it was no big deal.