Cover Your Tracks [HS][2014 VERSION]

72. Cherry Wine

"Her fight and fury is fiery. Oh, but she loves like sleep to the freezing. Sweet and right and merciful, I'm all but washed in the tide of her breathing . . ."

The sun reveals itself in a great display of purple and pink hues, outlined at the bottom with a deep blue that practically paints the horizon over the deadened expanse of lifeless, winter grass. It's in the glass of water left out for me beside the bed that I see the sky—reflected— in all of its glory. Beside the glass is a single pill, and beside that is a note.

Take this as soon as you wake. – H.

His heavy presence absent from the room, disappointment weighs heavily upon my shoulders as I rise from the mattress, arms in the air, stretching. Nearly every joint in my torso pops. I roll my shoulders back before reaching for the nightstand. My knees act as support, spreading themselves across the expanse of the mattress as I lean forward. The action brings my attention to the ache that burns along my inner thighs and I wince, adjusting my position.

My eyes have yet to adhere to the morning light as I toss the small little pill into the back of my throat and swallow down the water that chases after it. Once I've set the glass of water back onto the table, I retrieve the letter he'd left for me. Pinching the delicate sliver of paper between the pads of my thumb and index fingers, I stare off, mind searching for the reason why the note had to be here to remind me instead of him. Surely he'd woken and headed to town in pursuit of the pharmacy, but he had to have stopped back by in order to leave it here for me.

Why hadn't he stayed?

It's sorely that I crawl from the bed and collide the bottoms of my feet with the plush carpet below. Wiggling my toes, images from last night resurface. I close my eyes and see Harry above me, sweaty, gasping for air. Feel his touch ghosting along the ridge of my neck. Opening them, I see nothing but a cold, empty apartment. Void of two bodies, leaving only one.

I find comfort in the heat the shower provides as it practically pelts with my skin with little meteors that burn everywhere they touch. My flesh soon becomes reddened with irritation and I scrub every inch of it, determined to rid myself of the scars and bad memories that taint it. I feel all too embarrassed and foolish at the way I'd behaved last night, at the way I'd begged Harry to touch me. He hadn't done anything substantially crude to provoke my odd change of persona, only upset me, but that was enough reason to put some distance between us, not force intimacy.

But it wasn't intimate. He'd hadn't kissed me throughout like the first time—not even once. Only sucked on my neck while he pounded into me with a drive for the both of us to reach our climaxes as soon as possible. We were both overtaken with desire and lust. That wasn't love making, but a simple fuck. Perhaps it was something we both needed—a distraction—but now, I feel the toxicity of the entire situation. It burns at my skin as I continue scrubbing with a determination that would equal that of a psychotic.

Maybe that's all I've become. It makes sense when sobs wrack my body so hard that I have to take a moment at the bottom of the bathtub, bringing my knees to my chest. I don't know how long I stay there, rocking back and forth, fighting the pressure that threatens to collapse my lungs. It takes even longer to rid myself of the evidence of emotion. I stand before the mirror and pretend to be drying my hair while the tears dry and the blush fades to hide its mask of crimson from around my eyes.

It's not until my appearance has somewhat returned to normal that I exit the bathroom, my now frizzy and less-curly hair flowing behind me in waves. Slowly, my gaze travels upwards from the floor and towards the door, and that's when I see him.

Harry stands at the doorway, hands held behind his back. The look on his face is radiant—happy, even—but falls upon taking in my distraught expression. There's hesitation in locking the door before striding over to me. His pace slows just before a large pair of feet come to a halt before my own. Green eyes scan over my face, gauging my mood. The smile on his face fades.