Run & Hide ☠ Sequel

094☠

Above the page was a small painting of a close up of two faces, leaning in for a kiss.

The kiss described sounded amazing but a pang of guilt hit my heart when I realized I couldn't even remember it, even though it was a lustful kiss with no more meaning to it. I kept on flicking the pages until I came to my last diary entry, reading it as I felt my brows furrow. It was about how cold and shut off I was after I had killed my mother in order to save Harry during a mission.

Light footsteps dragged me out of my thoughts suddenly, my gaze snapping upwards to find Harry entering the bedroom after hours of working out. He shot me a soft smile before disappearing into the bathroom. I returned to reading the entry, surprised with the way I was during the time. It seemed as if the guilt had taken a huge toll on me. Now, if I think about it I wouldn't think twice about killing someone, I guess if it were my mother I'd feel some guilt but not as intense as what I felt back then.

I furrowed my brows when I turned the final page and found it blank. I had stopped writing from then on. What had happened? I pursed my lips, making a mental note of asking Harry about this as I began to close the book. But before doing so, I noticed a piece of folded up paper poking out from the back of the book. Pulling it out, I studied it curiously, noticing that it was a letter from my deceased father addressed to me.

My heart swelled up at the words I read, an uncontrollable smile dipping into my lips as I continued to read silently while Harry reentered the room without me noticing. My father seemed like such a loving and protective man, it killed me to not be able to remember him. I was still trying to make a decision on whether or not to go ahead with the operation. A huge part of me was encouraging me to do so, but there was a small part that was nagging me about the consequences. Once again, I felt conflicted.

My hand with the letter in it dropped to my lap as I pursed me lips, head almost aching with the millions of thoughts running through it. But they all quickly disappeared when my eyes landed on a shirtless Harry. It wasn't a sight I was new to; he seemed to like being naked a lot, amusingly enough. But it was a sight I could never get used to. The sight always rendered me speechless and had me slightly flustered.

He was looking for a clean t-shirt to wear, top half bare while athletic shorts concealed his bottom half. There were still water droplets that slid down his tanned skin. My tongue poked out to wet my lips at the sight of his strong tattooed biceps flexing, his body turning around as he pulled his shirt over his firm stomach that had abs poking out, before it covered his deep v-line that had me mesmerized. I looked away before he could notice, closing the journal shut as I sighed lightly.

"Harry," I spoke up quietly, my gaze flickering back to where he was now stood with his phone in his hands, tapping away before he stopped and looked up at me.

"Mhmm?" he hummed in reply, walking over to me and plopping down on the bed as I leaned back against the headboard.

"My diary entries end at the part where I was acting like a cold bitch the few days after I killed my mother," I said quickly, watching him smile softly and shake his head.