After Life

30

I rubbed my hands roughly over my face, focusing on trying to rid my eyes of the discomfort they felt. They were tired and dry, and wanted nothing more than to close, preferably in my bed, snuggled up in the comforts of my blankets. But alas, that was not to be. At least not for another hour or so.

I pulled my hands reluctantly down from my face, trying to focus on professor Murray as he babbled on. I couldn't even tell you about what, since I had honestly stopped listening a fair time ago. I was just much too tired to care about anything other than sleep at the moment.

Normally, I wasn't this exhausted, or admittedly, grumpy during classes. But since I worked the closing shift at the bar last night, and this was an early morning class, my tolerance for wakefulness was immediately going to be limited. Tack on my less than stellar week leading up to today, and I was all but vibrating with irritation.

After returning back to the comforts of my own apartment after leaving Harrys, I leaned back against the door for a moment, sighing with annoyance. Harry was such a pain in the ass. There was no other way to put it, no delicate way to describe how he could go from caring and thoughtful by having me stay at his because of the storm the night before, to cold and aloof with his constant 'no problem' this morning. I decided then and there that 'no problem' was my most hated statement. Because when Harry said 'no problem', it really meant 'I have a big fucking problem but I'm too much of a temperamental man to actually discuss it with you so I'm going to pretend that I'm fine and say no problem'.

Thankfully, Mia wasn't home at the moment, and although part of me wanted to talk to her about the night before, the stronger part of me just wanted a little time to myself. I pushed off the door and headed straight to my room, literally ticking off my shoes as I walked. Throwing my purse in the corner of my room, I stripped myself down to my underwear, before pulling on an old t-shirt, picking my phone out of my bag and plugging it in, before crawling under my blankets.

Now in the solitude and familiarity of my own bed, I felt the exhaustion from the night before finally hit me. Although I had slept at Harrys, it hadn't been nearly enough. It had taken me much too long to actually fall asleep, my mind going over and over every detail of the last hour or more. And in all honesty, I never slept all that great in an unfamiliar bed. And I had been hyper aware of the fact that the unfamiliar bed I had been in that night belonged to Harry Styles.

Tucking my hands under the pillow beneath my head, I thought back to the events of the morning so far. More specifically, the scars on Harry's body.

There was obviously a story behind them, and it didn't take a genius to realize that they were probably part of the things he kept so hidden. The look on his face when he saw me looking at him, when he realized that he was exposed, made that clear. His eyes hardened, his jaw tightening. The look I had come to equate with his temper, his anger, and his immediate rejection to anyone knowing anything about that part of his life.

In all honesty, I was surprised he hadn't shouted at me. I was surprised he hadn't called me out, making some reference to my watching him while he slept. I could tell he had been thinking it, probably a colorful array of curse words flying around in his mind. But he hadn't said a word. That confused me, and was so unlike him. All he had said was 'no problem', which annoyed the shit out of me.

What had happened to him to cause such a crude marking on his body? It was rough and jagged, and obviously not made by the skill of a surgeon. It appeared old, although I was no doctor so I couldn't place just how long it had marred his frame. There were a few other small scars around the long line that went from the front of his hip and up towards his ribs, curving along his side. Whatever it had been that changed him, did so on more than just his body.  It had marked him mind, body and soul, and had made him into the guarded, self deprecating man I was coming to know.