Duplicity [h.s]

69

Staring in the mirror, it told me I looked run down. I was pale of life, dark under eyes from a messed up sleep schedule and a lack of pure meaning. I've been so on edge since waking up on that bus, everything has been happening so fast. I didn't even see the inside of a hospital room during this entire excursion, everyone is counting on me to recover fast.

Physically, I will recover quick. I'm going to be sore and bruised for the next few days, but it won't stop me from being up on my feet in no time. What I'm more worried about is how my mental state will progress after this. I'm left with these daunting memories of a man that was trying to kill me. Images of that knife and the pelting warmth of the shower we were in was paved in my brain like a landmark. I still felt seasick every time a panicked memory voyaged through my mind; feeling my hands shake when I tried to reach the door handle or enduring the pounding pain of my head being slammed against a wall.

Everyone was worried about my physical recovery, but no one seemed to ask how I was doing on the inside. I wasn't doing good, I had a gut-wrenching fear following me around like a dark cloud that will never fade. I was so on edge that I couldn't sleep if I was alone.

And right now I was alone.

Standing in the bathroom mirror, a towel covering my naked body, I was alone and scared. There was a whole team of security outside the suite, and Harry had a camera watching my every move in his bedroom. In all honesty, I was protected. But even with all these safety nets, I still felt anxious.

I had a shower, and that was hard. I was completely neurotic the entire time. I kept having to subconsciously peak out the curtain to make sure I was the only one in here. But I got through it, nothing happened. I had to cover up my wound with a plastic wrap, it was still too fresh to get wet. It was hard to wash my hair with one hand and a first for me. When I peeled the plastic wrap off after, it hurt a bit. The stitched wound was aggressive and bruised around the sides, but I knew it would heal. I just had to be very careful not to rip it open.

Opening the bathroom door, I had that sickness in my blood again. My mind was on red alert, I was always expecting the worst when going through a doorway now. I prayed in my heart that I would see nothing but an empty bedroom like how I left it.

And luckily, I did.

The room was empty of anyone, confirming the fact I was alone. Harry and I were staying in a master suite because there's two of us sharing it. So there was a kitchen, two bathrooms, living room, balconies, and even a little den. It was all one floor, but very spacious.

He should be back any minute now, it was just after eleven. Walking around to my suitcase, I kept the towel tucked around my chest. The drugs the doctor gave me were helping a lot, but I was so drowsy. I just wanted to sleep but I was also so on edge. I know I couldn't sleep until Harry got back, that was the only way I could relax.

Grabbing random pyjamas, I just take out a big shirt and underwear. It was hot in Nashville, but I knew that from that start. Thank god there was AC in here. Once grabbing my things, I walk back over to the bed and place them on the edge.

The door opens, making my heart flip as well as my nerves shake. My head snaps to the door, instantly relieved when I saw Harry come through it. His eyes landed right to mine near the bed, freezing himself in the doorway when he read my startled look.

"It's me." He states the obvious but it did make my nerves shallow out ten times faster.

I sigh in relief, holding my towel firm around my chest. 98% of me initially knew that was him coming through the door, but that 2% of doubt was so powerful.