Chapter 35.

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I managed to drag myself away from Harry's house on Saturday, even against his protests but he was going out again that night and I didn't want to spend another night alone in his home, it still feels strange when he isn't there.

I'd managed to be completely distracted from reality and my thoughts the rest of the time I was there, stuck in this blissful bubble with him and the new and unexpected behaviours he had with me.

We never left his apartment, he even stayed home again Friday night and to be honest I spent most of it being in a daze with his wondering hands and whispers in my ear.

After Thursday night when he took me in the shower to 'clean up' as he put it, I still have the urge to cross my legs over the memory of him  touching himself while he watched me shower, to only have me pinned against the wall again kissing me as he finished himself off, panting out all the things he wants to do to me.

I felt like I needed to shower all over again just to cleanse myself afterwards.

I keep wondering in my mind why he's putting off having sex, why he's taking things so slow when his words make it apparent that's the last thing he wants to do.

I can't say I ever thought of Harry as someone to avoid sex, but I don't want to go making too many assumptions and sending myself down a rabbit hole of theories.

I could just ask him, but whether I'd get an honest answer is another thing entirely.

I also don't want to push him, he's slowly becoming more open with me, and I feel like if I nudge him too much he will snap closed like a bear trap, so I've just been letting him come out with his own confessions as he's ready.

Part of me does wonder though if he's waiting for me to be the one to initiate us having sex, trying to coax me to the point where I'm the one that's confident enough to tell him that's what I want.

My body is screaming for it but my logical side of my brain thinks it's far too soon, there's still so many answers I don't have and the minute his hands or lips are on me I forget that.

The mysteries with Harry are still in the back of my mind and I'm still trying to wrap my conscience and values around the situation with Andy and what he did.

Something tells me that is Harry's default with how to handle situations, maybe he's never learned anything different, but I'd like to show him that violence doesn't have to be the answer to things.

You don't fight violence with violence, it's like fucking for virginity and only leaves you frustrated and hurts you in the end.

I don't believe in trying to change people, I can accept Harry, vices, darkness and all, but there's nothing wrong with supporting growth in someone and showing them a different road, I could show him with kindness.

It's just up to them whether they take it or not.

I almost didn't want to leave, worried the minute I closed his front door and those green eyes disappeared behind it, this sweet Harry would too.

I guess only time will tell.

I asked Sophie to come over, after she spent almost an hour on the phone yelling at me for not telling her what happened with Andy sooner after I explained it, I'm dreading her seeing my face but I need her help to show me how to cover these bruises, she's the makeup genius, not me.

I've spent most of this Sunday sitting on my couch trying to sort through all the information I had crammed in my brain in just a few days, how my life changed so rapidly and I've barely scratched the surface of it.

There's still that pit in my stomach over everything I don't know about Harry and what he's hiding, but fucking hell I just can't bring myself to want to stay away from him, I know that I know better but nothing about him is rational, so I guess the irrationality of everything fits us perfectly.

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