Moonlight [H.S]

the seventh

May 24th

My ankle is throbbing.

I haven't moved from the spot Harry left me in.

It's been 57 minutes.

I would get up, but I'd rather not see what Harry has in mind for me if I do move.

I already spent a huge portion of my day worrying about what he was gonna do to me up here and I don't want to worry about something else right now.

I'm already concerned enough about my ankle. It's purple and blue with some ugly ass yellow in there. I can't move it and every couple of seconds it sends a shooting pain up my leg.

I'll deal with it when I get home.

I've always dealt with things when I get 'home.' It's what I've done my whole life.

After dealing with my mom for enough years, I figured out it was better to just keep my issues inside where no one can get mad at me for them.

No one can tell me I'm being dramatic if I don't tell them what's bothering me.

But if you use that same logic with drowning it sounds insane.

No one can be burdened by me drowning if I don't tell them I'm drowning.

You can't save yourself from drowning, however.

I can't save myself from mentally drowning either but that's more of a slow burn.

I'll be fine.

My eyelids start to feel heavy, and my head starts to lull back against the couch.

The tiredness from this morning is finally starting to hit me.

I try to fight it off, but I can't.

Usually, to wake up I run around or do some quick exercises, but I can't do that now without getting punished by Harry.

I don't even know what the fuck he would do to me, but after he demonstrated how ruthless he is by locking me up here, I don't want to know.

My head drops down towards my shoulder and I feel myself drift off to sleep.

~

"Your dad and sister are home, right?" Jasper whispers pulling me further into my house.

"Just my dad but yes..." I trail off while he takes ahold of my hand and pulls me forward.

"So where would he hear us less? Your room or the basement?" He raises an eyebrow.

"J... what are you thinking?" I use my nickname for him to question his intention.

"Answer my question baby." He halts his movements and pulls me closer to him, "Which room?"

"The basement is big, echoey, and right below his room, so my room, I guess."

"To your room we go then." He smiles at me finishing his sentence, but he doesn't move.

"Are we gonna move..." He smiles down at me wrapping his arms around my waist, in instinct I wrap my arms around his neck.

"I love you." He shakes his head in disbelief.

"Mm. Thank you. Love ya too." I finish my sentence and he lean his face closer to mine. I try not to tense up at our words. Shock waves roll through my body, but not the good kind. The horrible, I wanna set myself on fire kind. But he'll get mad if I don't say it back.