Introspective Strangers [h.s.]

Chapter 56

If You See Her - LANY
All the Pretty Girls - KALEO
Black Beauty - Lana Del Rey
———

Chapter 56

Harry wasn't in bed when I woke up the next morning.

My alarm went off, as usual, but instead of him griping and groaning in my ear to shut it off and relentlessly keeping me pinned to his chest, there was nothing. A sickening silence filled his room once I reached over to shut it off.

I ran a hand over my face, squeezing my eyes shut and letting out a small groan, some small part of me hoping that when I opened them back up, I would be at home in my own bed where I didn't have to deal with the repercussions of the night before.

Turning my head a fraction, I caught sight of something on the nightstand. Two Advil's and a glass of water. Right. Because we had gotten drunk yesterday for Harry's birthday. A birthday that I had promptly ruined. And Harry, the superhuman that he was, seemed to have been able not only to get up before me this morning but also make sure that I was adequately looked after as well.

Did hangovers just not exist for that man?

Maybe something else had just been paining him more than his head when he woke up.

"Fuck," I muttered, lifting the small tablets to my mouth and swallowing them in one go. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

That same sensation as yesterday suddenly careened through my body and into my lungs, threatening to choke me out, as I played out in my head the drunken and blurry events of last night. I yanked the inhaler off of the floor beside the bed where I had so haphazardly dropped it yesterday, inhaling once and then twice before letting my hand fall to my side. My limbs felt leaden, the very act of pulling myself out of bed comparable to the feeling of weights tied to my ankles.

"I'm in love with you, May."

God. Why now?

I placed my hands on his dresser, leaning in to study to my face and regulate my breathing. A face that was now caked with dried mascara and foundation. Once more, I had forgotten to wash it before I went to bed. A face that somehow, despite everything, Harry loved.

The thought made me sick. How could he love me? How could he love this mess? A mess so utterly deplorable and repulsive that it had probably broken the heart of the one good thing in my life right now.

An audible noise left the back of my throat, barely loud enough for even my ears to catch as I dropped my head to rest on the wood and nestled my face into my arms. This wasn't right. This didn't feel right. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

When someone told you that they loved you, you were supposed to say it back. You were supposed to be happy, supposed to celebrate with one another about the fact that you had both somehow wound up together through the millions of other people that roamed this earth.

Right? That's how it was supposed to go.

So, why didn't that happen? Why wasn't I happy or excited or God forbid, just anything other than fucking sad right now?

My heart pounded hard in my chest, threatening to splinter my ribcage, as I made my way to the bathroom to shower. I wasn't sure where Harry was, whether he was still even in the condo at all or had just left as soon as he'd woken up. I didn't want to find out until I had somewhat collected myself.

Part of me felt even worse at the notion, had me scrubbing vigorously at my body and shampooing faster than normal, at the thought that I had put Harry out of his own home because I couldn't just say three simple words back to him. That he had chosen to go off elsewhere for solace that he couldn't rightly find from me at this given moment.