Behind the Tattoos: Uncontrollable Desires Sequel

Chapter Eight: Even Though...

**A/N** Read authors note at the bottom. Happy New Years! ^.^

Chapter Eight: Even Though...

**Harry's POV**

When I get back to my hotel room, drunk as hell, I notice Ashlyn sleeping in her wheelchair. Her brown hair has fallen across her face, her mouth partially open.

I have a significant buzz going on right now. I went and got drinks with Lucinda after our meeting. Turns out she just broke up with her boyfriend of three years, obviously being the reason as to why she was so upset. After a couple drinks of course, all upset emotions cleared up.

Ashlyn mumbles something in her sleep, bringing me back to the present. I slide off my shoes and strip off my shirt. I walk over to her and wrap my hands around her waist, pulling her out of the chair.

"Harry?" She mumbles sleepily as I carry her to our bed. The buzz of alcohol still burning in my system, wiping my thoughts to pure bliss.

"Hey baby, let's get you in bed." I pull back the covers and put her down gently, making sure to cover her with a blanket.

Part of me hates this. I feel like a father rather than a boyfriend. Always having to take care of her...her inability to take care of herself...

"Harry," she mumbles louder this time, stretching her arms and rubbing at her eyes. Her blue eyes blink open after a while. "Where were you babe?" She asks with a small frown on her face.

"Just went out for some air," I answer. I don't know why but I don't want to tell her I spent time with the psychologist at a bar.

I slip off my jeans and toss them on top of my suitcase, slipping on a pair of sweats. She watches me as I climb in to bed beside her. "You've been drinking," she says. The alcohol on my breath must be obvious.

I sigh. "Yeah, I needed a drink."

"Harry, do you cut yourself?" The question throws me off. Her eyes are wide and confused.

Liam. Liam must have talked to her. That bastard. That fucking-

"Harry," she whispers and I focus on her. Her eyes search mine. "Do you cut yourself? She asks again, quieter this time. It's like she's afraid of the answer but has to know.

I want to lie to her. To tell her that there's no possible way I cut myself and that she has nothing to worry about. But the look she gives me, so trusting and open...so loving, it makes me cave.

My eyes avert from hers. "Yeah, I've cut myself," I admit quietly. I can practically feel her judgement.

"But why?" Her voice cracks, her hands covering her mouth. Tears seep through her eyes, leaving wet trails down her cheeks.

She wouldn't understand if I told her. So I lie. "I don't know."

She lies there, crying, working on breathing. She turns to me, just her face. "Do you love me or not?" Ashlyn whispers, her breath brushing across my face.

I almost laugh. She can't be serious. What kind of question is that? Do I love her?! Of course I love her.

I love her.

I know I love her.

"Yes," I say when I realize I didn't answer.

Her blue eyes search mine, tears just shedding everywhere. She opens her mouth but shuts it again. She looks conflicted and I want to help her.

But I can't bring myself to pull her towards me. I hate the feeling of her non-respondent legs.

"Okay," she whispers and shuts her eyes, turning her head away from me. I watch the back of her head for the longest time, confused as to what to say. "Good night Harry."