After the death of Belle's parents in Solace, Belle doesn't think anything else could possibly go so wrong in her life. Despite her booming business, flourishing relationship with Harry, and overall happiness with her life, Belle can't quite escape...
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Sunday, 14 June 2019
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I jolt awake to a sudden movement behind me and a cold breeze meeting the bare skin of my middle between my leggings and bralette. The combination alone isn't pleasant during the day, let alone when it's pitch black outside and almost as dark in our bedroom. I barely have time to sit up and question what's going on before our bedroom is illuminated with the soft glow of Harry's bedside table lamp filling the void.
"Shįt, sorry, baby." Harry rushes out, scampering quickly over to the walk-in wardrobe in nothing but a tight pair of black Calvin Klein boxer briefs - our pyjamas of choice today looking extremely couple-y and matchy. Normally, I'd say this is the perfect way to be awoken, that is if the sun was up and I wasn't given a minor heart attack in the process.
"What's going on?" I question through a long yawn, my heart still racing in my chest. For all I knew the flat could be on fire, especially with the way Harry is rushing about.
Harry darts out of the wardrobe, now dressed in scrub pants, as he throws a matching dark blue scrub top over his immaculate torso. His hair is messy from sleep, yet he looks entirely too awake for someone who'd been asleep just moments ago. It now dawns on me, the brief conversation we had earlier in the day between corralling Edward out of bed and leaving to take my brother to school.
I'll be home around six, but I'm on call tonight, so I may have to duck out.
"Got a call from the hospital. There's been some type of accident; all hands on deck."
The mere thought of an accident, though not informed of exactly what type, has chills running down my spine. Still three years later, any mention of or viewing - even on the telly - of a vehicle accident fuels the PTSD within me. The fact that I can hear the pelting of rain against our bedroom window doesn't assist much in my state either. If my heart rate weren't already up due to my abrupt awakening, the rain and the fact that Harry has to drive in it sure would have something to do with it. I can't very well force Harry to stay here for my own selfish reasons; he has lives to save, much like mine and Edward's that very night.
"Hey," I startle out of my blank stare out the window to find Harry looking over at me from his side of the bed. He's putting his watch on, the one I got him for his last birthday, and gathering his wallet and keys from his bedside table, "I know that look." He rounds the bed, taking his shoes with him. Wordlessly, he plops down by my side and begins to put his shoes on. The minor act of choosing to sit as close as possible to me whilst putting his shoes on is comforting in a way; it's the little things really. "I'll be fine, promise you, love. It's not that bad out, okay."
"It wasn't either when that man lost control and crashed into our vehicle." I find myself muttering, my eyes cast downward as I try to draw in some deep breaths. There's an immense feeling of guilt taking over, for acting so pathetic and selfishly in a moment like this, but I can't quite stop myself. It's not like I like getting in the way of where Harry needs to be.
