INKED LINES // H.S.

Chapter 33

"If you don't heal what hurt you, you'll bleed on people who didn't cut you."

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Adilyn's POV

The sharp pain in my stomach forces me from the numb escape of sleep. I can feel how swollen my face is as it still presses to the hard surface of Harry's chest. As my eyes flicker open they physically throb, exhausted and strained from the number of tears they have shed.

The pain in my stomach is back, only this time it is much worse. It's a constant sharp pain, as if a knife is being driven through me, wedged through my torso unable to be removed. I have no idea what it's from and the medical side of my brain is screaming at me telling me something is wrong. Very wrong.

But what's a little bit more pain to deal with?

I feel the gentle rise and fall of Harry's chest beneath me, hearing the solid beat of his heart beneath my ear. Small orange rays are drifting through the room, casting their early morning warmth over our tangled bodies.

Mila saw my nightmare. She fucking saw me like that.

And it scared the shit out of her, I could see it written plainly all over her face.

How am I going to face her again?

I use the little strength I have left to force my mind clear, to keep my body numb from all the dreaded emotions that are surging to the surface demanding to be felt.

I know what I have to do today. Like every year the guilt and sadness coats itself over me in a second skin that will be unable to be shed until today is done.

Today.

I don't think I have enough strength to get through today, but I don't have a choice.

Today.

The anniversary of my Mum's death.

Today.

Fucking today.

It's time.

I slowly pry my face from Harry's chest, the remnants of tears making my skin stick to his. I untangle my feet slowly from his pausing to make sure he doesn't wake before sliding out of his grasp.

I move silently across the room and allow a fleeting glance back to Harry's sleeping figure. His bare chest is covered in golden light as it dances across the hard muscle there, lighting up the black ink scrawled across his chest. I love his tattoos, the ink is so captivating with their untold stories. His face looks so relaxed and youthful as he breathes deeply in sleep.

He doesn't wake. Neither does Mila as I get myself changed and ready in our room. I don't know what I would have done if I had to face her eyes of pity. She knows what today is.

My heart clenches. Mum.

I clamp my eyes shut and focus on numbing myself.

I keep every thought and emotion out of my head, becoming the zombie Mila and Harry were so desperately trying to change me from, but that is the only way I can get through today.

Today.

In a matter of minutes, I am in my car, hands gripping the steering wheel aggressively tight as I pull out onto the main road. It's a long drive but I focus on keeping my body numb.

I am a zombie. And I relish in it.

No other cars are on the road as I speed down it. I feel my body sigh every couple of minutes, the exhaustion and grief forcing itself down on my shoulders, making it harder to ignore.