It doesn't really matter what you do or say
I'm never going anywhere anyway
'Cause when I'm dying for you, I've never felt so alive
Song: Song #3, by Stone Sour
***
2020, February, 8th, Saturday | 4pm
Aster's P.O.V.:
A whole week wasn't enough for the bruises on my skin to disappear completely, but at least they're starting to faint from the ugly dark blue and purple to a pale yellowish green.
Guess I'm lucky, considering most parts of said bruises are from my neck down, mainly on the sides of my body, over my stomach and legs, some on my arms and wrist, but almost nothing on my face. Well, no nothing - there are the cigarette burns, but they're almost entirely healed after a week, not even pinkish anymore, just perfectly round brownish yellow marks that I can easily hide under some makeup.
I've spent most part of the last week by myself, only leaving Harry's room when he is not home, but my ribs are still too sore for me to go anywhere outside this apartment, so the only times I left was to change a bit of the scenario, going to sit outside in the porch or downstairs at the living room.
Rickie has been baby-sitting me, not only at my disposition to go get me water or something to eat, but even helped me go to the bathroom in the first three days after I came home, when I was too sore and too weak to go there by my own. It drove Harry crazy to know there was another man helping me take off my pants, but honestly he shouldn't be concerned - not only Rickie has turned into someone like a brother to me, he refused to look in my direction every time I had to take off one of my clothes. Honestly, it is kinda scary how good he is at undoing pants with his eyes closed, but I try not to focus on the matter, it's too awkward.
I asked Harry to give me some space and let me think about everything that has happened, and that's exactly what he did. I've barely seen him during the whole week, he slept in one of the guest rooms and I noticed he tried his hardest not to be around for most part of the time, coming home only to shower and sleep. I have no idea where he goes to when he is not around, don't know if he is at S&L, Karma or any other place where he runs the legal and illegal sales team, but I'm really trying not to think about it too much - after all, I was the one who asked him to give me space, it would be inconsistent to do it whilst wanting to know every step he takes.
This was the longest time we stood apart ever since he came back to New York, and I can't even describe how awkward it is to stay afar from him while sleeping in his bed and staying in his apartment, but it's not like I can go to my place anymore. I still don't feel safe there, and honestly, I've been really considering selling it, giving the money to my father and buying a place for myself that is never going to be tainted with his presence.
The pain medicine the doctor prescribed makes me super dizzy, so I've slept a lot and couldn't read or keep up with a single movie on Netflix, but I guess it was for the best - it allowed me to concentrate in what really matter when I was awake, which was to try and organize all the messy thoughts running through my mind.
It's hard to address how I'm feeling about the great possibility of my sister being alive. I've spent most part of my life believing she died at the age of 19 and it feels so unreal that she might be 36 years old now. I wonder how she looks, if she still dyes her hair blonde, if she still loves watching horror movies and going out for long walks at night.
Did she ever get married?
What if she's a mom now? I would be an aunt, something I've never thought to be possible.
I wonder if she thinks about me, if she wants to know about me, if she misses me as much as I miss her. I can't stop wondering why she hasn't tried to contact me during these 17 years we're apart, and honestly I can't imagine a good enough reason for her to be so distant, for so long.
Is she afraid of something? Did she do something wrong?
Was it really all my father's decisions?
How the fuck would someone fake their own daughter's death? He must've had a hell of a reason, I can't even imagine how he would do it and convince her to go along with it.
It terrifies me to think about what were my father's reasons. What does he have on her to manage to do something so terrible, and get away with it? He not only destroyed a family, he destroyed his own, so the prize must've been high as fuck to be worth it.
I mean, I can't think of anything that would be worthy of something as awful as that, but something must've happened.
What about my mother? Was she aware of everything? Did she leave us because of him, and what he has done, or maybe she wasn't even aware, just like me, and left simply because she couldn't bear the idea of being part of a family without Madeline?
At first, I even thought about questioning my father, confronting him with the truth I know and convince him to tell me what really happened, but reality is, Harry is right in this matter - if he was capable of faking his own daughter's death, what could he do to me? If I wanted to talk to him about what I know regarding Maddie, I would have to trust him, and I definitely don't.
Everything is so fucking blurry, I can't find a sense to anything, and after a whole week lost in my own thoughts, the one thing that has been haunting my mind is as fucked up as it can get, but I still think it's the best solution - or at least, the best first step into finding out something more about my sister, and maybe one day even finding her. As much as I hate to admit it, he is an important, probably even essential, piece to this fucking puzzle.
Elliot James.
Of course I haven't talked to Harry about it - he'll probably lose his mind as soon as I reveal my desire to talk to the very person who kidnapped and tortured me, not even 10 days ago. He'll try to convince me to let him do things alone, that he should be the one to hunt Elliot down and torture him for information, but something tells me that's not the way to do it in order to get what we want.
The memories I have from Elliot when I was still a child doesn't match the guy I've met in that dark, greasy room. The Elliot who used to date my sister was a gentle guy, someone who would always bring me candy and who treated my sister like a princess, with all the kindness in the world. Fine, I didn't have a lot of contact with him by them, but I knew Madeline - my DeeDee was a great judge of character, and she would never get involved with someone capable of doing evil.
He was madly in love with her, and by the looks of it, still is. Almost 20 years later and he is still risking everything to try and find her. He even kidnapped me, her younger sister, which only proves he's so desperate to see her again, he doesn't even care if she'll hate him when they finally meet - because she will. She'll want to fucking murder him the minute she learns about what he has done to me.
All in all, the more I think about it, the more I'm sure EJ is the right way to go. He is the first step I need to take if I want to solve this puzzle and find more about my sister.
I've been giving myself constant headaches, trying to find a way to be sure about what I have to do next, but I haven't reached any conclusion yet. I know I need to talk to someone about it, and I know this someone is Elliot James, but I still don't know how or when to do it. The idea of contacting Tim also came across my mind, after Rickie explained how he helped them find me, but I still don't trust his intentions. I have no idea why he helped Harry to find and rescue me, and although I'm well-aware of how risky it was for him, after everything I've been through regarding S&L, secrets and lies, I would never deny the possibility of everything being a well-thought plan.
This is something that has been driving me crazy as well - I've been manipulated for so long, and by so many people, I can't even trust myself, my own ability to judge and understand everything. Every time I think I'm coming to a conclusion, I ask myself if I got there alone, or if I was manipulated and led to it without even noticing. After all, I kinda have been a complete moron about everything else, so it wouldn't be so surprising if I was wrong about it too.
But the thing is, I can't imagine how it could be beneficial to Elliot to kidnap me, then let me go by faking his associate betrayal, just so I could go after him again. Firstly, it would go against all odds, me wanting to talk to my perpetrator face to face, and second, EJ is well aware he put a target on his back the moment he touched me.
Because now, he has Harry after him. And Harry can be a lot of things, but he is truthful to his words. He will not forget what EJ has done to me, he will not let it slide.
He will kill EJ, and he'll do it with a smile on his face.
All these months, he has been telling me he is dangerous, he has been telling me there is a part of him I didn't know, and deep down I've never truly believed him. I mean, how could I? Harry is the most adorable, goofy, a little too cocky guy I've ever met, and until that day I'd never see anything but love in his eyes.
However, if someday I thought Harry wouldn't be capable of doing something like that, all doubts vanished from my mind the moment I saw him almost kill EJ with his bare hands. I didn't recognize the love of my life in that moment, it was like someone, or something had taken him over. He was not only angry, he was absolutely out of his mind and there was not a single doubt in my mind that he would go through with it if I didn't stop him. In fact, he almost did it anyway.
This is another challenge I have right in front of me - to find out a way to convince Harry that talking to Elliot - and maybe even befriending him - might be the only way to get to my sister at some point. I'm as sure as I know the sky is blue, Harry won't agree with it. He won't agree and it will turn into the biggest fight of our lives together, but as much as I hate that, I also know that's the only way of maybe getting what I want.
And believe me, I would do anything to find my sister.
It's scary as fuck to even think that, I'm well aware of what it could actually mean and what I could actually lose in my way to find her. But it's something I'll have to do, and I'll do it as soon as I can leave this fucking bed by myself.
Nevertheless, today is not the day I'll do it. I asked for space and Harry gave it to me. He respected my request, even though it was obviously not what he wanted, especially after spending 3 days without even knowing if I was alive or not. I know how hard it has been for him, simply because it's almost impossible for me as well - although I'm still hurt by his lies, I also kinda get why he did it. I don't think he did right by hiding it and taking the decision away from me, but I know he did it out of love, and fear of losing me. He broke my trust in him, and that's something we'll both have to work on if we really want to be together and strengthen our relationship, but I kinda get it now. I kinda understand why, even though I don't agree.
And fuck, I miss him so much.
I miss him all the time, but especially in the middle of the night when I wake up crying and covered in sweat after dreaming about that stinky, moldy room. I relive those three days in my head every time I go to bed, and waking up without him only makes me feel like I'm still trapped there somehow. I miss his touch, his presence, his voice and the way he is always trying to tease and provoke me. How he is always making his best to take me to the edge, sometimes sexually, sometimes intellectually, and sometimes just by being his irritating little self and joking around all the time.
I even miss the way he used to get frustrated every morning when my alarm would go off by 5, and how he would spend the whole morning glaring at me for waking him up only one hour after he went to bed.
The only things that have gotten me through this week without completely losing my mind, were the sweet memories I have with him. Our Christmas together at his mom's house, our little trip to Iceland and the facial mask incident, fucking in the church's confessionary during my father's wedding, our night together at Pandemonium, our trip to Washington, when we still pretended to hate each other...
Every little moment, every precious little memory we've had together, they have been haunting me and helping me understand how much he loves me, how much we love each other. And to each day that has passed, I've gotten more and more convinced about his reasons to lie to me by omission, how out of love it was.
And it makes me kinda guilty for giving him such a cold shoulder, in the week of his birthday. His birthday was actually a week ago, when I was still kidnapped. He turned 27 and had the worst birthday gift ever, and I've been punishing him ever since.
I feel like I owe him an appropriate commemoration for his birthday, especially considering how memorably extraordinary he made mine. Not only because I want to give him something in return, but mainly because I love him so fucking much it takes all the sense away from me.
That's why I've put Rickie on a mission today - he has been out and about all day, running the last-minutes errands list I gave him this morning and "helping" me organize a little surprise for Harry. I use quotation marks here, 'cause let's be honest - I haven't lifted my butt from this bed for days now, Rickie is doing everything.
I couldn't plan something nearly as amazing as the surprise Harry did for my birthday, taking me to Iceland in his particular jet, but I've put a lot of thought in it and I think I've come out with something special and meaningful to us.
First, I recreated one of the little traditions we had while we were still kids - whenever it was our birthday, we would have sleepover at the each other's place and camp outside, watch the birthday boy or girl favorite movie while eating unhealthy snacks and sleep in the tent afterwards, it didn't matter how cold it was. Of course, due to logistics I couldn't take him away for the weekend, as he did for me, but I bought a lot of shit online and Rickie helped me put together a little camp inside the room.
We had to get a little creative in order to make it work, but I guess it turned out OK. I can't leave this fucking bed, so Rickie helped putting up a tent over and around the bed, arranging fairy lights in the inside and turning off all the lights to make it look like we are outside, in the dark. Then he hung up a big white sheet on the black curtain right across the bed, and helped me set up the pocket projector I bought online, plugging it to my phone where I selected Harry's favorite movie ever since we were little - the Walt Disney 1940 classic, Fantasia.
Another part of our little childish tradition was to bake each other a cake. Harry and Anne would bake my favorite Oreo cake when I was a little girl, whilst me and Maddie baked Harry's carrot cake. And even though I know I shouldn't, with my casted leg and wrist, I decided to do it for Harry, which ended up in me shouting instructions to a very confused Rickie at Harry's kitchen. It turned out OK, though - not the prettiest cake in town, but special enough.
At last, Rickie helped me organize everything around Harry's room and once it was ready, I gave him the rest of the day off. Now I'm here, in clean pjs and sitting on the bed, texting Harry that I need him home as soon as possible.
It's the first time I talk to him ever since the day we came back home from the hospital, and it hurts my heart a little when my phone vibrates half a second later, saying he will be here in 20.
I exchange a few texts with Calvin while I wait for Harry. It's been so long since we last talked, I know I've been a terrible friend to him, absent as fuck and always taking days to reply his daily texts. We've never facetimed anymore, but even though I miss him a lot, I think it might be better this way, at least for now. My life has turned into such a big mess lately, the less Calvin knows, the better - I don't want to involve him and make it dangerous for him in some way.
Which is basically Harry's arguments as to why he didn't tell me about the possibility of Maddie being alive, if you think about it. It didn't go unnoticed that maybe not knowing about Maddie is what kept me alive while Elliot held me captive, so in a twisted way I get it that Harry was kinda right in not telling me right away, but, at the same time, I still think he should have. I still don't think it was fair of him to take the decision away from me and lie by omission, whether it was to keep me safe or for his own egoistical reasons.
Suddenly, Tate, who was asleep at the foot of the bed till a second ago, starts barking, jumping from the bed and leaving the room, his tail going absolutely crazy. I hear his paws stepping onto the floor and going downstairs, at the same time there's the sound of the front door being opened, then closed, and my heart races immediately, an antsy feeling pooling on the pit of my stomach.
His steps are somewhat measured, slower than he usually walks, and I can only guess it's because he is as nervous as I am about seeing and talking to each other again. We have barely exchanged a few words over the past week, and the way we left things was definitely not as friendly as we would like, so I think it's quite plausible that he's stressing about it and wondering why do I suddenly want to talk.
There's a soft knock on the open door, followed by his quiet steps, announcing he is entering the room. I can't quite see him, because I'm already on the bed and inside the tent, but I can hear he is approaching. Tate follows him, but comes forwards and jumps on the bed, going back to his previous position.
"Honeybunny?" His voice echoes in the walls, sounding doubtful, insecure.
"I'm here." The words come out of my mouth a bit shaky and I swallow harshly, trying to calm down my nerves.
His steps resume and this time he only stops when he reaches the foot of the bed, standing right in front of me. My heart aches again as soon as I put my eyes on him - he looks so tired! There are deep, dark circles under his eyes, his skin seems to be paler than usually, and his hair's a mess. Instead of the usual flashy, high-fashion clothes, he is wearing a simplistic combination of white dress shirt and black jean pants.
"What... What is all this?" He asks hesitantly, scanning the whole scenario I have prepared, his eyes halting on the fairy lights for a second before gazing down to the silver trail with cake and tea on his side of the bed, and then he is looking back to my face. He looks confused, as if he doesn't dare to believe what he's seeing.
"Happy late-birthday." I smile, suddenly feeling timid as our eyes meet. "I'm sorry it's a little messy, but, you know..." I gaze down my casted leg.
"I... I don't understand." He frowns. "My birthday was--"
"Last week, I know. But we didn't celebrate it, I didn't even... We weren't even together, and it's not fair." I explain, watching his face slowly change from confused to pleased. "You deserve the best birthday in the world, and you hadn't, so I just thought... I should try and make it special, even though it's a week later."
Harry looks around, checking everything out again, and doesn't say anything at first, his eyes pausing on the bed, where Tate is laying down.
Maybe he didn't like it..?
"I'm sorry, I couldn't do something too extravagant, but... When we were little, we used to have this kind of house parties for each other's birthdays, and I just thought---"
"I remember." He cuts me mid-sentence, slowly looking up at me, the little pout on his lips leisurely turning into a soft smile that wrinkles the corners of his sparkling eyes.
I can't bite back a large smile as well, my heart thumping harshly on the back of my throat.
"I... Well, Rickie actually, baked you the carrot cake you like, and I signed Disney Plus so we can watch Fantasia, like we did when we were kids."
His smile goes wider, now showing his perfect set of white teeth, and he takes a step closer. "Are we... Are we good?" He asks, hesitantly.
Slowly, I nod, biting down my bottom lip. "I think... We have a lot to talk about, and we really need to start working on our communication skills, but... I'm tired of being angry at you." I mumble, looking away for a moment. "I just miss you so much, and if you want, I think we can try and work on our relationship."
"It's what I want the most, Bunny." He's now close enough to grab my hand and take it to his lips, softly kissing my skin. "I love you."
"I love you too." I smile, pulling my hand but not letting go of his. "Kiss me." I ask and he complies immediately, bending down on the bed and searching for my lips with his.
The moment our mouths touch, it's like everything around us seize existing. I can't express how much I missed his lips, his scent. He inhales a deep breath through his nose, both his hands coming up to hold my face. It's not a deep kiss, but just as intense even in its shallowness. My eyes get hot with tears suddenly, and I try to blink them away, but it's useless as they roll down my cheeks slowly, one of them infiltrating between our lips.
Harry breaks from the kiss, and to my surprise his eyes are kinda watery as well. "Why are you crying?" He asks, his voice quivering.
"Because I miss you, and I hate when we fight. I..." My voice falters and I need to make a little pause, taking a deep breath to try and control my emotions. This is not the moment to initiate another discussion about trust and our relationship. "I'm really glad you're here with me, and I would love to give you a good birthday celebration."
He looks at me, his hair messy, so different from the perfect quiff he usually wears proudly. His eyes are stormy as the sea, darker than the grey snowy sky outside the windows. He looks so exhausted, but is still the handsomest person in the world to me.
"Having you here is more than I could ask for." He answers, his eyes searching for something on my face, the soft smile back to his lips. "I missed you so, so much. I guess I only managed to give you the space you needed because I knew where you were, knew how to find you." He sighs. "I'm so sorry for hiding things from you, Bunny, I would never do it out of anything other than love, and--"
"Can we not talk about it right now?" I cut him off, raising my good hand to hold his face tenderly. "I just want to enjoy this night with you."
Harry widens his eyes for half a second, and even parts his lips, as if ready to debate, but then he seems to rethink whatever he was about to say, closing his mouth to a tight lipped smile and nodding slowly. "Fair enough. Can you just wait a few minutes, so I can take a shower and change?"
I nod, happy he agreed on not trying to press the matter. I know this is going to be the calm before the storm, but right now I just want to enjoy these last moments of quietness by his side.
Our conversation about the kidnap and the whole deal with Maddie possibly being alive is far from over, but tonight I just want to enjoy his company. We have so much to talk about, and I know it will lead us to a few more bumps in the road, new disagreements and possible screaming matches, especially when I tell him I want to meet Elliot.
Not even 15 minutes later, Harry is already on the bed with me, his hair wet from the shower, the fresh smell of conditioner making my heart beat out of step. We're kind of snuggling, at least as much as possible considering I have a casted leg and arm, and pretending we're watching Fantasia, but I don't think neither of us is actually paying attention. Harry has his nose nuzzled on my neck, softly humming and nibbling my skin every now and then. It's heavenly, to have him this close, to be engulfed for the warmth from his body, all I want is to close my eyes and pretend everything is perfect and there's nothing wrong with life.
I wonder if someday it will be like this - just the two of us, quietly enjoying each other's company, without a care in the world. Ever since the beginning, everything about us has been concerning, our relationship has always been so troublesome, even though it was supposed to be some cliché shit where everything comes easy. I mean, our parents are partners and rotten rich, we grew up together and we have fallen in love for each other during our teenage years - in a perfect world, we would be the perfect match for one another and everything would conspire in our favor.
By the time the movie ends, Harry is openly snoring in my neck, completely passed out. For a moment I considered waking him up to eat the cake, but the memory of the dark circles under his eyes was enough to make me drop it - he looks exhausted, he deserves a good night of sleep, and on his own bed for a change.
As slowly as I can, I softly move on the bed so I'm completely laying too, turning off the projector and the fairy lights under the tent, so the room gets completely dark. Because of my arm and leg, I can't sleep on my side, the only comfortable position is laying on my back, but I still manage to turn my head and rest my chin on the top of Harry's head, and the faint scent of his hair is like an embrace of pure love and nostalgia. Although I'm sleepy too, I try to stay awake so I can enjoy his company a little longer, wanting to suck in every little moment I have by his side. Only after being kept away from him that I noticed how fucking essential he is to me and how truthfully I simply can't live without him.
It doesn't matter how hard things may be from now on, how many fights we'll end up having, I know deep down in my heart we'll always have each other.
We'll always be together.
***
A/N: Heeey! How are ya'll doing?
I know this was a shorty, kind of a filler chapter, but the good news is I already have a big chunk of the next chapter done and I'm planning to post it this before the weekend :D