You 'N I

Chapter 13

    “Oh shut up!”  he yells, his voice raised. He throws the bottle at the wall I was next to. It shatters everywhere, and I feel a sting of pain on my stomach. I look down to see red bleeding through the white shirt I was wearing. I put my hand to it, blood staining my fingers. ‘It was an accident,’ I try and tell myself. But that doesn’t mean I’m not scared. I grab my bag off the table and run out the door, leaving Zayn to clean up the mess. Little did I know this was the first of many scars to come.

    I am shaken out of the memory as I feel the steam coming from my shower. I step into the shower and close the shower door. As the warm water rushes down over me, I let out all the tears I’ve kept in, flow out. I hear a knock on the door, but I don’t say anything, tears stinging my throat, making it hard to speak. I figure whoever is at the door will just go away, but I am proved wrong when I hear the door knob turn and I hear footsteps.

    “Babe?” I hear.

    I wipe away the tears, trying to make them stop. “Harry?” my voice croaks.

    “Yeah, it’s me,”

    “What are you doing in here?” I ask him, “I know we’re dating, but I’m not ready for you to see me naked yet,” the real reason being I’m not ready for him to see my scars; I’m not sure how he’ll react.

    I hear him laugh, which makes me smile. “I know, I know. I just wanted to see how you were.”

    “I’m fi-”

    He cuts me off, “You don’t need to lie to me, love,” I hear him shut the toilet seat and sit down on it. I can practically see him running his hands over his face, something I’ve learned he does when he’s frustrated.

    “Sometimes it’s easier to say that I’m okay. I keep thinking if I say it enough times I’ll be okay. It’s silly,” I say shaking my head.

    “No, it’s not. I understand,” he says understanding, “But you shouldn’t keep everything inside. It’ll only hurt you more.”

    “The pain reminds me I’m still alive.”

    “Just talk to me, love. Make your pain, mine,” I feel the tears start rushing out once he says this. “Don’t cry, love.” I wipe the tears away, for what seems like the billionth time today. “Talk to me.”

    “Harry, I’m not okay. I’m not,” I tell him, listening to see if he is going to say something, but he’s silent. Just listening. “I’m scared that Zayn will come back. I’m scared that I’ll go back to being depressed. I’m scared you’ll leave me when you see what I’m like; when you look into my past. I’m scared. That’s the only way to explain how I am. Scared.”

    I hear him breathe out, “I would never leave you for what’s happened in your past,” his voice almost a whisper, I can barely hear him over the running water, “It kills me that you think I would do that.”

    I turn the water off, “Could you hand me a towel, H?” I hear him grab a towel off the rack and see him open the door and watch as only his arm holding a towel pops through the opening. I quickly dry off and wrap the towel around my body. I open the shower door and step out. I feel Harry’s eyes on mine. I see that he is now shirtless, in nothing but basketball shorts. I can see all of his tattoos, scattered around his body. His v-line very prominent. I look up to his eyes quickly, “No funny stuff, Harold,” I tell him, a small smile plastered on my face.

     I watch as his head is thrown back, in laughter. His eyes are shut and his dimples are prominent. I love it when he laughs. I smile wider, as I watch him. “There’s that smile I love,” he smiles.