Okay, so no hanky panky this chapter, but it still matterrrrrs, I promise.
***
This last week has been a rollercoaster, but not in the bad way it usually is, between starting my new job, and exploring more of whatever it is Harry and I have developed into, I genuinely don't recognise my life any more.
And I couldn't be happier about it.
I'm slowly but surely coming more to terms with Harrys past, and his present, the more open he's been about it. While I don't agree with a lot of it, I've come to the middle ground that you can love someone and not agree with everything they do.
He's not asking me to throw away my morals, and he's trying get me to help him learn his.
I'm taking this far better than I thought I would, maybe getting punched in the face knocked some screws loose somewhere.
I'm in love with a man that launders money through his business for criminals and used to torture people for a job.
This is fine.
This is fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.
Abby six months ago would have had a stroke over how my life is now, but I can't say that notion bothers me, I prefer my life now, I actually enjoy it.
Harry has been far more open with me, and I'm absorbing anything he gives me like a sponge, collecting all the clues until everything finally fits together about him.
There's been three main things I've tagged as important with what I've learned this week though, it's like I have a filing cabinet in my head categorising it all.
First being, he showed me his butterfly collection. He keeps them stored in the large chest of drawers in his room I never paid much attention to, because I assumed they were filled with clothes.
Apparently not.
They were beautiful, all the different types he had, displayed so perfectly in glass shadow boxes, and he was so enthusiastic about telling me about them, he's like a damn encyclopedia about it.
I had asked him why he kept them hidden away, they're like artwork, they deserved to be displayed.
He seemed to get uncomfortable at the question, but more so in an ashamed way.
"Don't you think they're a bit... Girly? Wouldn't it be embarrassing having them hanging up around the place?" he'd asked sheepishly.
"First of all, there's nothing wrong with being girly, being feminine if you're a man or woman is a wonderful trait" I had told him firmly, but then switched to reassuring "But these are beautiful Harry, you should be so proud of them. You don't have to put them up if you don't want to, but I think they deserve to be showed off, you shouldn't have to hide this, it's amazing"
That night I helped him hang up several of them around his room, and lounge room and for once his apartment looked somewhat personal, instead of blank.
Sometimes Harry is this enormous commanding presence, and other times, like the night we did that, he's just like a lost little boy looking for some kind of direction or reassurance.
I like how we compliment that with each other, I give him the reassurance and affection he needs, and he gives me the confidence and assertiveness I need.
The second thing, that I was more shocked about, was he actually gave me a sliver of an answer when I asked about his tapes.
I nearly fell off the fucking couch.
I'd asked if he ever watches them, or why they're just kept there.
"They're just reminders" he had said cryptically.
I assumed he would leave it there but then he continued, sighing and that sad look was back in his eyes.
"About 200 or so are actually my Dads, old home movies" he had explained and I tried my hardest not to look like a stunned mullet.
"What about the rest?" I had asked bravely, not sure if I was pushing my luck.
"They're mine" he had said simply, and it was obvious he was ending it there.
"Home movies?" I prodded, feeling dangerous that day.
"Something like that" he had agreed, but then managed to distract me when he crawled over top of me on the couch, wiping the tapes from my mind when he decided to bury his head between my legs.
Sneaky bugger.
The third thing he had told me, which has had me feeling nauseous most of the week was when I had asked him more about his relationship with David.
Still a bit lost about why he hated Andy's father so much.
His simple explanation broke my heart.
"David was Dad's best mate, he protected him. He's the reason no one took me away from my parents, why no one ever stopped it, David always got him out of it with his fucking 'connections' when the school, or anyone would ask about bruises...or anything else, there's more... But that's the gist of it for now"
I understand that Harry is the one with the anger and violence issues between us, but knowing David did that - That he knew what was happening to Harry, a helpless little boy, and not only condoned it but enabled it has spite flaring in my chest for the first time.
I don't know if it's just because of how much I love him, or how much I've seen that it's broken him, but for the first time in my life.
I want to kick someone's ass.
I've become so fiercely protective over Harry, and while he doesn't need it physically, he does emotionally, and I'm like a lioness with her cubs when it comes to that.
He hasn't had any more nightmares, yet. He says that they usually don't happen when he's with me, that whatever plagues him stays at bay most of the time.
And while I'm happy if that's true, everything has to give at some point, and I'm just a band aid for a bullet hole.
I've spent whatever time I have apparently becoming Harry, googling what I don't understand. Trying to figure out what causes this for him.
All I really have to go on, is vague, child abuse, nightmares, drug use, anger issues.
However the results all came back pointing to the same thing, PTSD. It's something I have absolutely no clue about, and when I asked Harry if he had ever spoken to someone, a professional, even in foster care he said the most he saw were social workers and he was too off the rails to do anything except tell them to fuck off.
He reminded me that he doesn't talk to anyone, except for me now apparently.
I've been wracking my brain for even the smallest thing I can do for him, for anything of the things that haunts him, and I've come up with one idea, I just hope it doesn't blow up in my face.
I can't diagnose him, or know truly the psychology behind it, I'm a 22 year old girl that works in a god damn animal shelter that experienced life in a bubble until three months ago, but I can at least try and learn as much as I can to see what I can do to help him.
Working at the shelter this last week has been a dream come true, everyone I work with is so sweet and kind, but the hard part is seeing the abuse cases that come in, the things people to do animals is horrific.
While it absolutely shreds my heart, I'm glad I can show them kindness that they may not have experienced before and that not all humans are bad.
The hours I've been working have meant Harry and I haven't seen much of each other this week, between me working during the day, and the nights he's at the club we've pretty much only managed to go to sleep together.
The nights he hasn't been working he's come over when I finished work, and nights he was working, he would leave his apartment key with me and I would go to his house when I finished, usually being asleep when he would crawl into bed at 3 or 4am.
He's been pawing at me all week, trying to sneak in whatever touches he can, but we've barely had time for anything however that doesn't stop him from trying, and he's succeeded a few times, we just haven't had sex, and he looks like he's about to have a nervous breakdown over it.
I still remember the day he realised he hadn't asked if I was on birth control, I've never seen the colour drain from his face so fast.
While I wanted to make him suffer a little, I felt bad, and reassured him that I was, and that I had it implanted in my arm.
He asked what I meant, so I had taken his hand, pressed his finger over the small plastic rod in my inner upper arm and I still have fits of giggles over the mortified scream that came out of his mouth.
Pick one Harry, it's either that in my arm, or a person in my stomach, but to be fair I think he'd scream over that too.
I've also constantly been getting dirty text messages at work, descriptive ones, about what he's thinking about doing, wants to do or on some occasions what he's doing to himself while thinking about it.
I made a mental note not to check my phone when I was cleaning out the dog kennels, I nearly slipped in dog shit over those damn texts.
I have this Saturday off, and Harry said he organised the day off as well, when I told him he didn't need to do that, he told me that, yes, in fact he did.
I asked why.
The elusive "You'll see" I got back had my stomach twisting.
He left early this morning and said he would be picking me up around 11am, and before I even asked, also said I wasn't allowed to know where we were going and that he wanted me to bring my camera.
The weather has been getting warmer here, with it well into October, it's almost November and Australian heat is a whole other ordeal of its own.
Today however, it's uncharacteristically cool, not really cold, but almost the perfect kind of inbetween temperature, which I always appreciate.
I fucking hate hot weather, I am a delicate polar bear and not conditioned for sweating from my knee caps.
I waited patiently outside my apartment building, feeling my stomach flutter when I saw his black car pull up.
When he wound the electric windows, looking devilish as ever, raising and dropping his brows at me with a cheeky "Hey there little mouse" I could have melted into a puddle on the cement.
I managed to pull myself into the car without going face first into the ground, which I'm surprised about, he still manages to kick my legs out underneath me just from looking at me.
He watched me attentively when I done up my seatbelt, searching his eyes over my face and figure without an ounce of shame like he always does.
He rested his elbow on the centre console, resting his chin in his hand as he pulled away from the sidewalk and began to drive.
"Just can't help yourself with those dresses can you love?" he asked, watching the traffic.
I look down at the floral sun dress I was wearing, it has a white lace trim on it - I thought it was pretty. I frown and look back to him "Is there something wrong with it?"
He shakes his head thoughtfully, looking amused "Definitely not, the only thing wrong here is what goes through my head when I see you in them"
I'm still used to getting berated over my choice of clothes, from Andy for the last two years and my mother my entire life, so it's an adjustment not having that from him.
"So you'd prefer if I wore a moo-moo is what you're saying?" I joke, lifting my brows at him.
I don't feel as intimidated by his crude remarks any more, I'm some what use to them and whilst they still flood a heat in my belly and fire off the nerves in my body, they don't cripple me like they used to.
"I prefer you in anything that gives me easy access to your underwear" he shoots back, grinning to himself.
I grin back at him, feeling overwhelmingly happy just to be so close to him again, and with how playful he's been recently.
"You look handsome today" I blurt out without thinking.
I immediately want to palm myself in the face, I'm still horrible with complimenting him, because I can never seem to get out the words to do him justice.
God forbid he ever read my mind, and saw what I've thought about him this whole time, his head would be too big to fit in this damn car.
He cocks a brow at me, but I swore I saw his cheeks tint a shade darker, I'd bet money on it.
"I've graduated to handsome now? I was just getting used to being pretty"
"Don't get sassy or you'll get demoted" I warn him playfully.
"Mmmm I'm sure I could work my way back up love" he muses, sending me a cheeky glance.
I give him a deadpanned look "That look is always trouble with you"
He pouts innocently, moving his hand over to rest on my knee "Don't know what you're talking about love, last time I checked I was a very good boy"
I roll my eyes, but nearly jolt that high to through the roof when he glances at me, smirking, as his hand slides higher up my thigh and stops, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"It's going to be a long drive my sweet girl, the only person in trouble here is you"
***
In case you hadn't noticed, if I hadn't made it glaringly obvious, Harrys character in this is a very sexual one, it's a large part of his personality, so now he and Abby are in a physical relationship, showing that side of their relationship is important as well.
Just a heads up.
Get a nice even smut sprinkling from now on.
***
I say it's for the story line..buuuuuuut