Tribulation [h.s]

34*

"And high up above, or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try, you'll never know
Just what you're worth."

**DOUBLE UPDATE! READ CHAPTER 33 FIRST

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The water is cold. My skin is raw from scrubbing the blood off, but I can still feel it.

It runs deeper than skin, flesh, or bone.

I didn't have much choice. My legs gave out so I collapse onto the tub floor and let the water pour over me. I don't care that I begin shivering; I don't care that my body hurts. I don't care that my body curls in on itself. I don't care how long I sit there in the freezing water – I just want the blood off me.

But, the blood on my hands was already long gone.

"Allie?" I don't respond. It's probably Louis checking in on me again.

I squeeze my arms around myself harder, my nails digging painfully into my skin. I wish the world could stop. I want everything around me to cease moving and be lost in time with me for just a moment.

But that's not how this damned world works.

The bathroom door clicks open, and over the waterfall, I hear a familiar voice – one laced with trepidation. It's not Louis like I had expected, but I can't move. I just want to stay here and feel the water beat down on my body.

Harry, however, never lets me have what I want.

I can hear the shower curtain be pulled aside. "Shit-" Harry curses, and then, the water stops. He turns off the freezing water. "Allie, what the hell happened?"

I wish I wasn't like this, Harry.

I don't have the energy to respond. It only takes a moment for me to feel a soft fabric thrown over my shoulders. Harry wraps a towel around my shivering body and rubs his warm hands up and down my shoulder.

"You're freezing, Allie." Again, I don't respond. It's not like I could explain why I do this without sounding insanely broken.

So I've been in the shower for just under three hours? If I had the energy, I would have laughed or maybe cried.

Harry's fingers tremble a bit when he cups my cheek and raises my head. I think he realizes he won't be getting any answers out of me. So, with his lips pressed in a firm line, he stands and digs around in the bathroom closet. He fumbles with a washcloth in the sink, dampening in with water and face wash.

What is he doing?

When he kneels beside the tub again, he swallows and blinks a few times like he's preparing himself for something. Is he nervous?

It's completely unexpected – the way leans over the tub and starts wiping my makeup off with timid, slow motions.  "Don't worry... I won't look." That means more to me than he'll ever know.

"Allie," Harry whispers my name in the mix of the silence. He looks down at me. His eyes and deep voice are solemn. "Do you know how long you've been in here?"

I shake my head. No, I don't know. I don't know if I want to know.

"Three hours," Harry explains slowly. "Louis told me you've been locked in the bathroom for three hours."

"Oh," I say numbly. My voice is scratchy and rugged.  "I'm sorry." I'm sorry for ruining everything. But,  most importantly, "I'm sorry I'm like this."

Harry's shoulders slump, and for a moment, his hand that had been focused on wiping away the mascara under my eyes stops. "Stop that. Don't say sorry."

"Why are you doing this?"