The songs for this chapter are:
Absolute- The Fray
Syndicate - The Fray
Enough for now- The Fray
The man behind the desk gives Harry the key to our room with a smile that Harry does not return. I try my best to offer one to make up for it but it comes off as forced and awkward, the concierge looks away quickly.
In silence, we walk through the lobby to find the room. The hallway is long and narrow, religious paintings line the crème walls, a handsome angel kneeling before a maiden, two lovers embrace in the next. I shudder when my eyes drag across the last painting, meeting the black eyes of Lucifer himself right outside of our assigned room. I'm stuck staring into the empty pools as Harry slides the key card to open the door. Lovely.
I hurry behind Harry into the room and flicks the light switch, illuminating the dark room. He tosses my bag onto the winged back chair resting in the corner of the room and the suitcase is left by the door next to where I am standing in place.
"I'm taking a shower," he quietly remarks. Without looking back, Harry walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.
I want to follow him but I'm conflicted. I don't want to push him or upset him anymore than he already is but at the same time I want to make sure he's okay and I don't want to let him wallow in this, not alone at least.
I pull my shoes off, followed by my jeans and Harry's shirt, and follow him into the small bathroom, completely naked. When I push the door open he doesn't turn around. Steam has already began to billow through the small space, filling it, covering Harry's naked body with a cloud of thick smoke. His tattoos peak through, the black ink poking through the veil, drawing me toward him.
I step over the pile of his discarded clothes and stand behind him, keeping more than a foot of distance between us.
"I don't need you to-" Harry begins, his voice flat.
"I know," I interrupt him. I know he's angry, hurt, and he is beginning to slip back behind the wall that I have fought so hard to crumble. He has been controlling his anger so well, I could kill Anne and Christian both for making him lose it that way. I'm surprised by the dark direction my thoughts have taken so I shake them away.
Without another word, he draws back the shower curtain and steps into the cascading water. I take a breath, building every ounce of confidence I can muster, and step into the shower behind him. The water is scolding, barely tolerable, and I hide behind Harry to avoid it. He must notice my discomfort because he adjusts the temperature of the water.
I grab the small complimentary bottle of soap and squeeze it onto a cloth and carefully bring it to Harry's back. He finches and tries to move forward but I follow him, stepping closer to him in the process.
"You don't have to talk to me, but I know you need me to be here right now," my voice is almost a whisper, lost between Harry's deep breaths and the pouring water.
Silent and still, he stays as I brush the cloth across the letters etched into his skin. My tattoo.
Harry turns to face me, allowing me to clean his chest now, his eyes studying my every stroke of the cloth. Anger radiates from of him, mixing with the streams of smoke from the water and his eyes are burning into me. He looks as if he's' going to explode, me being the target.
Before I can blink, both of his hands are pressed against my jaw, cupping my neck on either side. His mouth desperately collides against mine and my lips part involuntary under the rough contact. There is nothing gentle, nothing soft about his touch. My tongue meets his and I pull his bottom lip between my teeth, gently tugging, avoiding his wound, he groans and presses me against the cold tile wall.