22 Attention

3.2K 140 9
                                    

i can't remember who i was before you.

Josephine woke up wearing sweat. It took her a moment to realize that it wasn't hers.

It took her even longer to realize that Harry was right next to her and freaking out. One of his hands were still wrapped around her waist but his fingers were digging so tightly and intensely into her skin that she felt blood there. The pain was forgotten for just a moment as she looked up at his face, the way it was twisted and his eyes were squeezed shut like he was scared.

His breathing was more like wheezing and his free hand was clutched onto the empty space next to him, knuckles white. The light from the moon poured out against his face, allowing her to see dark shadows and distress.

It was all there, evidence of a nightmare that had him locked under his unconscious mind. She tried to pry his grip from her, but to no avail.

Her hands came up against his chest, feeling the rapid beating before she began to rock him back and forth in an attempt to wake him up.

"Harry," she whined, frowning when her eyes settled on the sheer blanket of sweat on his forehead and neck. "Harry wake up."

"Thiscantbehappening," he said breathlessly. She couldn't quite catch any words, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to.

"Harry wake up," she repeated, putting out her knee so she could separate herself from him. She pushed back and, after the third attempt, sent herself flying off of the bed and onto the floor.

"Joey?" His voice broke through the silent commotion. It was strained and unlike himself. She sat up only to look over at him, at where he was sitting on his and her side of the bed. The sweat around his neck looked to her like a necklace. A thick necklace that held onto the rapid pulse under his skin. "Jo? Jo a-are you-"

Her response was delayed, having tried to talk through a throat that felt like it was closing in on her. "I'm here," she said, standing by the side of the bed. "You were having a nightmare, I think."

"Sorry for waking you."

"You didn't," she lied, holding a hand to the ache at her side. "I was about to go to the bathroom anyway."

His head was still down with his hands on his lap when she left the bedroom. When she was alone in the small space, she caught her reflection in the mirror, the drain in her eyes as the pain in her side did anything but subdue. She lifted her shirt and looked down at where he'd been holding her just moments ago.

There were crescent marks from his nails, dots of blood protruding from the skin gradually. It was like watching the sun set, only all she saw was red. A deep, raw red that had her cringing. Some of it stained past the white shirt she was wearing. Some of it stained her fingers. She reached for one of the washcloths under the sink and ran it under the water. His nail marks against her skin was oddly stinging, a feeling she found rare despite the pain she'd went through hours before going to bed.

She sucked in a breath and began dabbing the cloth, trying to keep herself from bleeding. There was so much of it. There were lines of red that looked too irritated and it stung like a burn.

When Jo was done cleansing, she concealed the ten marks and disposed of the cloth.

By the time the door was open and she was ready to leave, there was a tired Harry on the floor with his back against the wall. His eyes were on the empty space on the wall next to her, but as soon as she took a step forward, his head moved and he was on his feet. "Did I push you off the bed?" Was the first thing he went with.

✓ lights /styles au/Where stories live. Discover now