Dice [h.s.]

54

"What the fuck are you doing?" I hissed back at him, quickly closing my journal and hiding behind the pillow of the bay window.

"I am getting out of the shower." Harry turned towards his suitcase which was open on the bed.

Ew.

"I was writing." I got off of the bay window and moved towards the bed. I sat down on the empty side and watched Harry.

"About what?" Harry asked dismissively as he searched his suitcase with one hand. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Like you care." I crossed my arms over my stomach, covering the super short crop top from my teenage years.

"I wanna know if you're writing about me." Harry winked before picking out an outfit and moving it to the bathroom.

"In your dreams." I scoffed while unplugging my phone from the charger. There were no new messages from Xavier.

    This morning, meaning twelve in the afternoon, Harry and I were abruptly woken up with the sound of a knock on our door. Harry went into fucking attack dog mode and completely forgot about his gun shot wound on his leg. He tripped down the hallway, nearly shooting himself in the head.

    I quickly took the gun from him and moved towards the door. With a quick glance outside, I realized exactly who was outside. I could spot that bug eyed baldy anywhere. It was Dominic.

Why was Dominic here?

    Harry freaked out as I peacefully opened the door, he nearly fell down the stairs. But once I let Dom in, he was fine. Dominic was in town and here to deliver my next errand.

    I had to do some fucking babysitting. Dominic said I had to watch the casino while the managers were being "dealt with." I can't say I wasn't disappointed. Then again, it's only the second day. Tomorrow, X said he's got nothing so I was thinking about going back to my childhood home. I wanna see if I can save any of the plants my mother left for dead.

    That brings us to now. After Dominic left, Harry and I got into a little fight over if he could come or not. Of course, I was against it. He needs all the rest he can get. He should be in a hospital right now, not 2,000+ miles away in a safe house.

    I obviously lost. I think I just gave up and let him decide what's best for him. If he wants to kill himself, fine by me. I won't be paying for the funeral. Plus, he's the one who also refuses to see one of my old friends who's a doctor. Granted he is an ex gang member who went to college and got a medical degree but does it really matter the background?

    I have been ready for awhile now when I suddenly got the idea to write. I haven't been able to write anything since my last creative writing class my senior year of college. Which I barely completed.

    So much has happened. It's just hard to think about anything to write about. First my dad died, then I joined Alea and that's a whole issue in itself. It felt amazing to be back in a fictional world. I do think finding my old writing journal really helped inspire me. I guess it was in the drawstring bag before I stuffed it with clothes.

    Speaking of clothes. The only thing I could find that wasn't a dress was the shortest fucking black shirt in the world and a tight mini skirt. I used to dress like a fucking slut cause I was one. But now, it just looks like I'm playing dress up. I slapped my leather jacket with it and called it a day.

"So, how does it look?" Harry stepped out of the bathroom in his usual business clothes. Except his arm was in a sling and the button up was buttoned slightly more than usual.

"You look like you got beat up in prep school. Unbutton the top, you can't see your bandages." I pulled myself off of the bed and walked towards him. Without even thinking, I unbuttoned his shirt one button lower to reveal his chest.