subject 13 // h.s. au

chapter eleven.

I smoothed the creases on the loose, faded black jeans covering my legs, my hands trembling slightly. I brought the back of my hand up to press against my burning forehead and the sleeve of the much too large black sweater slid rapidly down my arm.

 I cringed, seeing the almost infinite amount of tiny white marks left behind from the poking and prodding of my childhood, and I immediately shook the sleeve back down to my fingertips.

My skin was on fire, but I shivered as cool air pumped through the room from the floor vent adjacent to my bed. I slid my hand over the soft navy comforter; it was the only colorful object in sight. 

The dimly lit room itself was small, fitting only a twin bed and a short dresser adorned with a lamp.

  It felt like home. 

The only difference was that the light was a soft yellow instead of a harsh red, and I felt a strange sense of longing to see that red light again.

The backpack Huck had gone to retrieve was now sitting in the corner by the closed door, minus all my weapons. I watched the clock tick slowly by and I cursed myself for not having rehearsed what I was going to say to Harry. 

Somehow in the time it took Elias to get me clothes, find me a granola bar, and show me where the bathroom was, fifty-five minutes had passed. I had hurried back to my new room, still trying to brush off the small sting of disappointment I felt when I realized there were no mirrors in the bathroom. 

One day, I had thought to myself before sitting on the bed.

And there I still was, with approximately two to three minutes before Harry was going to burst through the door, and I was going to have to lie my ass off. I tried to calm my nerves. The worst thing that could happen was me getting kicked out and being alone, and up until two hours ago that had been my original plan anyways. 

I wasn't nervous about the consequences of not being truthful or getting kicked out, the anxiety strangling my chest was due to the fact that this man was stirring up feelings in me that I didn't even have names for.

 I was not in control of my emotions and it was frightening.

Also, he seemed a little unhinged.

My fingers played with the edges of 12's sutures, my palm no longer in severe pain, just uncomfortable. I was drained, but I knew I would need to be alert in order to deal with Harry.

The ticking of the clock was agonizing, and my heart pounded faster. It had now been over an hour. He had said 'about an hour' but what the hell did 'about' mean! Was it an hour, 10 minutes after, 20 min-

tap, tap, tap

A quiet knock echoed against the door.

He was knocking? I stood up dizzily, the room careening slightly as I struggled to find my footing. I wiped my palms on my jeans before grabbing the door latch and pulling it open, revealing Harry in the doorway. 

His hand pushed off the doorframe he had been leaning on and he swiftly brushed past me into the room without saying a word, his jacket sweeping against my shoulder.

My mind raced as I tried to remember what Elias had told Harry about his background, but I was too preoccupied watching as Harry shrugged off his long jacket, threw it on the dresser, and flopped down onto my bed, the springs creaking underneath him.

 I stared in silence as his hands reached up to rest behind his head and he kicked off his shoes, closing his eyes.

This was not how I thought this was going to go.