Eight

1.3K 41 1
                                    

Florence

From his matted down, chocolaty curls all the way down to his two nipples close to his butterfly tattoo. I've seen it all. I've examined every single spot his body has, while he was sleeping. My head was resting on my elbow, as my eyes stared over his body for what felt like the hundredth time.

I've known Harry for years, I felt like I knew him from head to toe, but as these last six weeks passed by, I've seen so many different things

Ops! Esta imagem não segue as nossas directrizes de conteúdo. Para continuares a publicar, por favor, remova-a ou carrega uma imagem diferente.

I've known Harry for years, I felt like I knew him from head to toe, but as these last six weeks passed by, I've seen so many different things. I've spotted a little scar below his left eyebrow and spots on his skin that I've never seen before. All while he was asleep. I laid there, admiring him every time as soft breaths left his plump lips.

Every night, I try to fall asleep and I am actually able to. Well, for an hour or three and then I wake up. I am drenched in sweat and my head is filled with the saddening images. 

Once I wake up from the nightmares, the only thing I'm able to do is watch Harry sleep, it brings me peace that at least one of us can easily sleep through the night.

But every night it is the same story.

I'm scared to fall asleep. Falling asleep means another nightmare and I'm sick of them. I'm sick of reliving the same past weeks over and over. I want it to stop.

It's easier to be awake.

So most nights, I watch him, until one of our alarms goes off or until I hear Bono scratching at our door because he wants to go outside. When that happens I have an excuse to get out of bed and sit down on the couch and watch TV until Harry wakes up.

Most mornings he simply shrugs it off, today wasn't one of those days. "Hey baby, why are you up so early?"

"Nervous," I mumbled silently, watching him go into the kitchen and wait for him to emerge with two cups of green tea in his hands. A few minutes later his long legs move on the parquet of our home.

He sat down next to me and handed me one with a concerned look. "Because of the appointment with Doctor Paulsen?" He asked and I nodded, glancing at the clear liquid in my hands. "Babe, I can still call Jeff and reschedule if you want me to come with you?"

I took a sip from my green tea, shaking my head. "No, it's fine, I can go alone."

Harry nodded silently, his hands stayed at his side whereas normally they would be touching my skin. I missed that feeling. 

Ever since the funeral, Harry hasn't really been himself around me. It's like he's constantly walking around on eggshells, waiting for me to have a breakdown, but it's not coming. When we go to bed, he's sleeping on his side while I am on my side. 

We don't touch the way we usually do and as much as it should worry me, it doesn't. And part of me thinks it's because I'm still feeling slightly numb.

A lot has changed in these past weeks. First of all, I'm not able to sleep and when I do I almost end up waking up from a nightmare. Also, panic attacks seem to be coming to me so easily. I don't even know how to react to them in a correct way.

Wistful Paradise / H.S. [COMPLETE]Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora