TW: self harm discussion
Harry is such a fucking asshole.
Every time I think he can be a semi-decent human being, he proves me wrong. Yet, of course, I fell for it again.
It wasn't even him saying that all we did was "fuck" that upset me, I already knew that to be true and I agree, it was the way he said it. It was with such disdain for me, it made me feel awful.
I sigh heavily as I lay down on my couch after I get home from work, staring up at the ceiling.
I caught him looking at me a few times today, and every time I did, he would quickly look away and pretend nothing happened. He even thanked me every time I told him when his clients arrived. It was weird, even for him.
I wanted to ask him what his deal was, but I didn't have the energy for another argument today. It's not worth it anymore.
I have to accept that I'm in this fucked up mess with him now, because that isn't changing anytime soon. It doesn't mean I have to keep trying to be cordial with him; we definitely won't be having anymore sleepovers any time soon. At this point, I don't care how he feels about me anymore.
I'm fine with him hating me.
I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I hear the buzzer next to my door go off, and I feel my stomach drop.
Who the fuck is that?
Maybe I'm just paranoid after last night's events, but the idea of someone randomly showing up at my apartment at 10 o'clock at night makes me very nervous.
Just ignore it.
I stand up and make my way to the fridge to grab my emergency bottle of rosé, and as I put my hand on the stainless steel handle, the buzzer goes off again. I roll my eyes and groan loudly before building up the courage to answer.
"Who is it?" I ask, as confidently as I can, after pressing the button.
"It's me, bitch, who do you think?" Cass' annoyed voice filters through the speaker, my brows furrowing.
I hesitate for a moment, my finger hovering over the button, and then decide to buzz her in without saying anything.
Why is she here right now? I figured she would be at work, seeing as though it's Saturday night. Randy rarely gives his employees Saturdays off, unless they've requested it, and even then...
I hear a soft knock on my door after a minute, and I clear my throat before opening it to see Cass standing in the hallway with a warm smile on her face. She's wearing her dark green work shirt, and a pair of stained blue jeans; it looks like she came straight from her shift.
"Hi," she chuckles, pulling me in for a big hug. I hug her back tightly, feeling the comfort wash over me.
God, I didn't realize how much I needed that.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, stepping aside for her to come in.
"I wanted to see you," she responds, kicking her shoes off and setting her bag next to my closet door. "I feel like we haven't really talked in a minute."
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth as I close the door and watch her walk over to the couch where she sits down. I immediately feel a wave of guilt hit me.
I haven't spoken to her since the night of Louis' Halloween party. It hasn't been on purpose, I've just had a lot going on.
Obviously.
I make my way back to the fridge to finally grab the rosé, and pull two wine glasses out of the cupboard before shuffling over to the couch. I sit down next to her and fill up both of the glasses, handing one to her. She thanks me softly, and I turn my body to face her, tucking one leg under me and resting my elbow on the back of the couch.
"How come you're not working?" I wonder, taking a sip of the pink wine.
"Randy didn't schedule me for the night shift for once," she shrugs, turning her body to mirror me. Her smile falters a little when her eyes meet mine, a small crease forming between her brows. "I miss you."
My stomach clenches at her sad tone; as if I didn't feel bad enough already.
"I miss you too," I mumble, staring down at the glass in my hand.
"I've been worried about you, Katie," she sighs. "You've never gone this long without talking to me. What's going on?"
I chew on my cheek nervously, playing through all of the different excuses I could give her in my head.
I can't tell her the truth.
"I've just had a lot on my mind."
"Like what?" She presses, poking my knee with her finger to get my attention. "Talk to me, please."
"It's complicated," I hesitate, looking back at her. She looks concerned, and it makes me feel like shit.
She sighs heavily, and places her hand on my thigh, stroking the fabric of my jeans softly with her thumb.
"You've been acting weird ever since you went to the cemetery," she comments, making me furrow my brows. "Is it your family? Is that what's bothering you?"
The assumption catches me completely off guard. I've hardly had the time to think about myself, let alone my family.
"Yes," I lie, nodding my head.
The thought of lying to her makes my stomach turn, she knows everything about me, but especially when it has to do with my family.
I'm a terrible person.
"Oh, honey," she says softly. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how much you must be missing them."
I purse my lips, and nod stiffly. I mean, of course I miss them, so I'm not totally lying. Just omitting the truth.
"Have- have you been safe?" She asks nervously, glancing down at my left arm.
She's checking for cuts.
I bring my hand down to cover my arm, suddenly feeling self conscious. Surprisingly, I haven't relapsed, as much as I've been wanting to. I'm trying so hard to break away from my unhealthy cycles, but everyday I get closer and closer to failing.
I'm weak.
"Yes," I say honestly.
If there's one thing I try to be honest about, it's my safety. As difficult as it is, I need someone to know about those negative thoughts. I'm afraid of what could happen if I keep it inside.
I would probably end up back in the hospital.
"Are you sure?" She asks again.
I don't blame her for not believing me. I have lied about it in the past, but only when I was in such a dark place that I couldn't think clearly. I haven't done that in a long time, though.
"I promise," I emphasize, placing my hand on hers and giving it a squeeze. The action causes the corners of her mouth to turn upwards; not yet a smile, but close.
"Niall said you've been quiet at work."
I purse my lips, tilting my head to the side. I don't feel like I've been acting that different, but who knows? I guess I've kind of mentally checked out. Either way, I don't really like the fact that Niall has been talking about me to Cass.
"Oh," is all I can muster.
"Katie, there's something else going on," she huffs. "I know you."
I clench my jaw nervously, my anxiety building. One of these days, I'm afraid I'm going to explode.
What the fuck am I supposed to say?
Oh, nothing! I've just been running drugs with Harry, and fucking him on the side.
"Cass, it's nothing," I shake my head. "I'm just overwhelmed right now, I'm tired."
She stays quiet, keeping her eyes on me. I can feel her intense gaze as I stare at the scars on my arm to avoid her. They're covered with tattoos now, but you can still see the raised skin. Now that it's been brought up, all I feel is longing for that release.
I hate myself.
"Okay," she says finally. "I don't believe you, but if you don't want to talk about it, I'll respect it."
Of course I want to fucking talk about it. That's all I want. The pressure of having to keep all of this to myself has been eating me up inside, and I can't do a single thing about it.
Harry would kill me.
"I'll be here when you're ready, though," she assures me.
I swallow harshly, pinching my eyes shut. "I know," I whisper.
Don't hold your breath, Cass.
~~~~~
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