Bad Romance (Mal x Harry)

The Thinker

AGE AND TIMELINE NOT CANON PLZ
(Mal is 19/Harry is almost 20)

CHAPTER ONE

He trailed sweet kissing along her neck, her collar bones , the plain of her stomach, her chest savouring her taste.

He kissed her lips so softly; a searing passion burning through, seeping into every inch of her skin.

"Please don't go," he whimpered into her ear.

Mal woke with a start. Her chest rose and fell heavy and hard. She scrubbed her palms along the crisp white of her duvet, premeditating the clammy state of them. Her cheeks were wet with tears that had tracked down her face as she slept as they always were when she woke like this.

Her stomach churned, remembering the gut-wrenching scenes from her dream caused her dinner from a few hours before to revisit her throat and within moments she was leant over the cold ceramic of her and Evie's toilet bowl.
As a child, she had always been an overthinker - a perfectionist. It was a by-product of being her mother's daughter, the constant need to be faultless in all she did. Now, however, it was working to her detriment. Being an overthinker in a world of people who had never had to think for themselves was truly suffocating. Even Evie, Jay and Carlos didn't understand her smothering anxiety - she'd been the thinker for them since they were in diapers.

Shaking her head in an attempt to clear her mind of the cacophony of thoughts that were preventing her from much needed sleep. Her body was seeped in exhaustion these days, every move she made weighed heavier on her muscles. It had been the same for months and the press were starting to comment on her gaunt and harrowingly drawn features - which was, quite frankly, insulting and making her feel much worse.

In a split second decision, she grabbed her towel and headed for the showers down the hall.

As she stepped into the scalding spray, she could feel her muscles relaxing for the first time in weeks. She let her head be taken under by the rapid water and shoulders to be massaged. The water ran over her face washing the sleep dust and her late-night thoughts away. This was her only time to clear her head and really think. She let the current take away her anxieties, relishing these limited moments of respite.

When Mal returned her clothes for the day had been laid out with a note that read:

Had to run off for some early morning fittings - Sorry M
Ben sent a note - apparently he needs you in his office by 11! He said no purple today soz...
Love you lots and lots,
Evie <3

Fucking perfect.

On the bed lay a grey skirt and blazer, white shirt and matching white socks. A pair of chunky heeled loafers sat on the floor next to her bedside table. Mal's eyes narrowed. Kissing her teeth, she felt a muted rage bubble in her chest. No purple.

Throwing on some concealer under her eyes and some mascara to her lashes, she dressed, forgoing the blazer - partly as the sun already glared through her window, and partly as a symbol of rebellion because when on earth had she ever been the girl that wears a blazer?
Even with the concealer masking her dark under eyes, as she looked at herself in the mirror she noted her exhaustion. The blonde hair only served to further draw her tired features. She couldn't help but laugh at how she seemed to match the dull grey of her skirt.
That Auradon uniformity was poisoning every aspect of her life these days.

She glanced down at her watch, that shone brightly on her wrist where it daintily sat: 10:55 am. Shit.

Moments later Mal was running across the Quad and racing the clock to get to Ben's office. When she reached his door she realised just how out of breath actually was. She had thought the circles the press were running around her were keeping her in shape but apparently that was not the case.

At 11:05 am Mal found herself sitting herself down in the office chair opposite her boyfriend.

"Hey! Where have you been? " Ben said, smiling up at her as he gathered up a stack of files, "I've got to go now. We have lunch with my parents at 12. Don't be late this time, please."

"Yes, sorry. Definitely. I'll be there at 12 sharp, I promise," Mal said, obediently.

"Good, thank you," Ben said. He flew around the desk, pecked her cheek, and then he was gone.

He definitely could have said that in text.

Mal trudged back to the dorm, shoulders hunched and tears welling in her eyes.
She was late. Again. So, he didn't have time for her. She had run all the way there just for him to give her a silly little message because he thought she was that unreliable.

She opened the door to her dorm and immediately slipped back into bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow she let the tears fall. Violent sobs wracked her body, and she felt what little mascara she had applied that morning begin to run down her cheeks.

What is wrong with me? 

She'd been in Auradon all of 2 months and she couldn't do it. It was too much pressure. Too many people to please. Too many eyes watching her. On the Isle, everyone had known her and had watched her, and she hadn't cared. But here? It was all too much.
Relationships weren't supposed to feel like this, but maybe it was her and Ben, maybe they weren't meant to be together.

Stop looking for the easy way out.

He'd been too good to her to screw this up over some self-doubt. But maybe it wasn't self-doubt. Maybe it was something else that Mal was not yet willing to give heade to.

At that thought Mal's stomach churned again, and for the second time that day she found herself on her knees over the porcelain.

As Mal's head spun and her world continued to tip on axis, her tears just flowed and flowed. She had never cried so hard in her life, not since she was 8 and her mother had killed the stray cat she had brought home. She sat by the toilet bowl and filled it with her tears. She gagged as she choked on the air she gasped for.

After what felt like hours, and very well could have been, Mal's back rested back on the bath tub next to the toilet. Her sobs had settled into silent tears and shaky breaths, her knees tucked up into her chest.
She found herself cataloging the bathroom, once again trying to distract herself from the black hole which was her thoughts. It was a tactic she'd developed growing up whenever she worked herself into a panic attack. Where some would count their breaths, and others name things they could hear, she would spell the colours of items around her.

Towel, W H I T E

Toothbrush, P I N K

Shampoo bottle, B R O W N

Box of tampons, B L U -

The rushing thrum of thoughts stuttered, and her eyes did a double take on the box of tampons that sat on her shelf in the bathroom. Her eyes flicked to Evie's shelf and she saw a similar blue box with evidence of recent use; the cardboard flaps stood up and some of its contents spilled out onto the shelf next to it.
Her eyes turned back to the box on her shelf once more; unopened.

Tampon box
Tampons
Period

Her mind filtered back through her memories of the past 2 months, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't remember when she had bought that blue box. Which brought her to her next question, when had she last had her period?

That same nausea that had plagued her the last few mornings returned, and only served to worsen itself because of what it symbolised; it was another piece to this godforsaken puzzle that Mal was only now putting together.

Nausea
Period (or lack thereof)
Exhaustion

Mal's thought began to reel once more, only this time, in a very different direction.
This would explain why she was so tired. But, surely not...

No, she was probably just tired and stressed and worn out and -

And a horrifying thought struck her once again:

She'd never as so much as slept in the same bed as Ben, her boyfriend, let alone had sex with him.
She hadn't slept with anyone since -

Holy shit.