Anchor {h.s}

one

I dragged him to the bathroom and sat him on the edge of the bath. I had to tuck on my hand so that he would release me. Once he did I walked to the counter and grabbed a washcloth to wet it with cold water. I then turned around to face Harry who was looking at me, his eyes dark.

In the light of her bathroom, Harry seemed sadder, emptier, than he did only minutes ago and I started to wonder what it was this time that made him use. I looked at him, observing his features. The dark circles that surround his eyes, the way his eyes didn't shine the way they used to, the little crinkles near them that was caused by his stress. I saw it all, because Harry was beautiful and I never missed an occasion to look at him. I could see that he was worn out and I nearly ran back to him to take care of him.

I wanted to hold him and be his escape. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him, the past showed the evidence of that. It was always so hard for me to say no to him. Feeling as if when I did I was betraying him. I loved him too much anyway and it sometimes blinded me. The times that I said no to him were rare and I knew that tonight I would have to.

As I reached him, he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him so that I was standing between his thighs. He looked up at me and I smiled softly at him before wiping away the sweat on his forehead. The smile that he returned me was the first gesture of warmth he gave me that night.

When I was done wiping his face he looked back down and hugged me tight, his face resting between my breasts. I caressed his hair. As fast as he had hugged me, he pulled away and stood up, grabbing both my hands.

I caught a sight of his eyes and recognized the determination in them. I knew what was coming and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it. Harry walked to my room and I followed him, my mind focused on the coldness of his fingers against my own.

Once we were inside of my room, he carefully closed the door behind him and I freed my hand, taking a few steps back.

He launched himself at me the moment he turned around and I didn't have time to stop him. His lips were on mine before the thought could register and I put both my hands on his cheeks, trying to pull away without forcing or offending him.

"Harry," I mumbled against his lips between kisses.

I wanted him to kiss me, I always did. But knowing that this meant nothing to him, that it was probably just the drug, it made the kiss worthless. It made my lips burn, but not in a passionate way and rather as if he was burning a hole all the way to my heart, turning it to ashes.

He grunted, as his forehead rested against mine and his hand roamed around my body. I kept my eyes down as I put my hands over his.

"Kiss me back," he mumbled his breath fanning over my face. I could smell the mix that had become his, minty with a hint of whatever drug he had used.

I looked up and met his pleading eyes, which made it harder to say what I needed to. "Not tonight Harry."

"I want you," he said with a broken voice. "Please."

"No," I whispered and his hands stopped immediately. Harry would never force me to do anything. He knew that no meant no, and he respected me enough to listen. I ran my hands over his forearm, hoping that it would soften my denial before taking his hands and leading him to bed. "We're going to sleep, okay?"

He said nothing and I saw the disappointment in his eyes, a disappointment both aimed at him and me. Me because I had denied him something he wanted, and at himself for even trying, knowing that I hated doing it when he was high.

I sighed and slid my arms around his waist. Harry's response was immediate. He held me tight, conveying his apology through his touch. Harry wasn't good with words, and whenever he had something to say, he would say it physically.