Petal [h.s.]

Chapter 25

Harry.

I awoke in my large bed, sprawled out in the middle while Violet was curled up near the edge in the small amount of space I subconsciously had left for her. Sleeping on my own for so long, I got used to having the whole bed for myself. She had her back to me, her ribcage expanding slowly with each inhale she took, signalling me she was still fast asleep.

I rolled around on my side to glance at my phone, seeing it was a bit past 10 in the morning. I stretched out my lanky legs beneath the sheets with a grunt, feeling the tense muscles that had worked so hard for mine and Violet's activities on the counter the evening before. 

I had tried to hold my orgasm for as long as I could, but seeing her lips wrapped around me and peeking up from beneath her black lashes, was nearly already enough for me to explode in her mouth right then and there.

One day, and I couldn't wait for it, I would finish down her throat and she'd swallow all of me, but yesterday hadn't been that day. The need to be inside of her and make her come around me, had once again overpowered me.

I tried to remember when we had fallen asleep last night, and it had to have been shortly after I told her I loved her. The look of shock on her face had been mixed with uncertainty and fear, and it made my stomach twist into a knot to not see a happy reaction to my words. 

I knew she thought I wasn't sincere, but I didn't see an issue with confessing my feelings, even though it was maybe early. But we didn't have a conventional relationship, we never had.

I let out a sigh when I lay contently in the sheets of my bed, feeling more at ease with her here than I had ever been in this bed on my own. It felt like it fit, like it was just right. Like everything had fallen into place. 

I had no idea how this even happened, or why or when she became that important to me. But I couldn't explain it. It was like she was all I could see and all I could think about, and it drove me crazy to feel my heart hammering in my chest whenever she was in the same room.

My jaw tensed when the second most prominent thing on my mind came into play, drugs. 

I was two weeks sober now, and I felt like I had coped well so far. My body had adjusted, but the whirlwind of thoughts and cravings had only begun. I'd had my first session with Marcus, who was exactly as Violet described him to be. He was warm, funny and helpful, and we had gotten pretty far in the first session already.

I never thought I'd be so open to the idea of a therapist, because I never wanted to talk about my family or my life, but Marcus hid it well and somehow got to those topics through the mention of drugs. He showed me how it all tied together, and I was keen on learning more in the next sessions.

I never explicitly told him what I did for a living, just mentioned that I owned a bar. I knew he had client confidentiality, but when something was literally illegal, I didn't know if that end of the deal would still be held up. My mouth felt dry and my fingertips started tingling when I imagined snorting a line, feeling the powder run through my nose and enter my bloodstream, sending me to that blissful place I had been missing for two weeks.

I had basically been high for years in a row before that, and I always knew I somehow had to stop at one point. I just never had the motivation, or someone who wanted that from me. And I didn't have enough discipline on my own. My fingers involuntary grabbed the 7-day chip that hung as a pendant against my T-shirt clad chest.

Violet implicitly asking me to stop if I wanted to date her, was the push I needed to finally make the step. I flicked my head to the side when the mattress dipped and she stirred in her sleep, letting out a breath as she rolled over and faced me, eyes still closed.