Candles

29 | P L E A S U R E

HARRY LAID DOWN IN FRONT of the television with two pillows on his back and a bowl of cereal sitting on his stomach. He was shirtless and a couple droplets of milk had managed to spill on his chest but he had not done anything to get it up. An ice pack sat on his bruised leg and I stood in the corner of the room, gnawing away at my nails. We had barely spoken since I beat him with his bat but when he woke up this morning, he told me the pain was really settling in. I called Clare and told her we were unable to make it into work today. I simply told her Harry was sick and she was surprised I was taking care of him.

Then I remembered she had no idea what was going on between Harry and I.

I was afraid to go wipe the milk off Harry's chest, afraid he would yell at me or something. I had to help him downstairs earlier and every other step, he was complaining about how moving was hurting him. I offered to take him to the hospital but he just told me to take him to the living room so he could watch his prerecorded shows. I obeyed and we had not exchanged a word since then. I knew he was mad; it was clear on his face and he was not trying to hide it one bit. The Harry from four something this morning was different from the Harry I was looking at now. He was no longer calm about what had happened. His true colors about the situation were showing and I wanted to cry.

"Harry," I called out and his body tensed.

"Sydney, I'm really not in the mood to—"

"Do you need anything?" I blurted. "I...I can get you whatever you need. Do you want something else to eat? I can go cook some eggs and bacon or something. I don't know. Just tell me what it is you want and I'll go get it for you."

He moved his bowl of cereal off his stomach and his green eyes met my gaze, "I don't want you to get anything for me. I want you to come over here and sit down with me. Stop acting like I'm going to bite you because I'm not. You look frightened and I don't want to see anything other than your smile." I hesitated and stayed where I was. Why did he want me to sit beside him when I hurt him? I did not understand why he was still being nice when his facial expressions showed otherwise. Why was he still letting me live here? If I were him, I would have kicked me out as soon as possible. "Come on, then. There's no need to be afraid."

I hurried to sit down beside him and he propped himself up on one elbow. His fingers ran along the back of my shirt and I was frozen. His fingers felt like little spiders running up and down my back and it took everything in me not to shriek and jump up. His fingers also felt magical and I did not want him to stop what he was doing. But when I felt a sharp pain right by my spine, I gasped out and turned my head to see Harry putting his hand back down on the floor.

"Did you just—"

"Pinch you?" he grinned and nodded his head before closing his eyes. "Now, we're even."

"Really?" my eyes lit up.

He opened one eye, "No. You owe me an explanation."

"Pardon?"

"My gun scared you and it shouldn't have affected you the way it did. You beat me senseless with my own baseball bat without telling me exactly why. I honestly thought you were going to kill me and I haven't even confessed all of my feelings to you, yet."

"Wait, what—"

"So, explain yourself."

I shook my head, fear rising within me, "Harry, I can't—"

"I don't want to hear you say that. You can but you just don't want to. After beating me like that, I kind of deserve to know, right?"

"But—"

"Sydney," he opened his other eye.

I exhaled slowly and turned my body around entirely to face him. He grabbed the TV remote and turned it off. The living room was silent and I stared down at my lap, the palms of my hands sweating and my heart was beating a mile a minute against my chest. I felt hot and I already knew my face was red. My eyes were beginning to water and when I shook my head again, I felt my bun moving about on top of my head.