RED ROOM [H.S]

46.

It was the thunder that brought me out of my sleepy haze. It roared and it screamed, like there was a God trapped within the clouds, trying to break free from their cage. The lightening soon followed, flashing like a warning sign, making the room light up in small moments, for fractions of a second. It made my head throb, and it made me feel as if everything was in slow motion as I came too.

As my mind slowly caught up with my body, my eyes opened, only to be greeted by nothing but white walls and medical equipment. The low hum of voices drifted into the room, and it took me a moment to realise where I was.

I gulped. I was in hospital.

I was hooked up to a machine, my heartbeat being recorded as it beated pitifully in my chest, a reminder that I was still alive, and the pain I felt coursing down my body was real and purple forming bruises that were scattered across my skin weren't fragments of my imagination, they were real and they burned at my skin like nothing I had ever felt before.

"You're awake."

I blinked in surprise at the low voice, and I couldn't help the anxiety spike at the sound. My scattered mind seemed to pause, and my eyes flickered over to the corner of the room, where the lightening lit it up every chance it took, making my nightmare feel all the more real.

Harry stood there, pressed against the wall, his arms crossed, looking as monotone as ever. I ignored the sudden increase of my heart at the sight of him and his stone cold expression, and tried to focus on how far apart each roar of thunder was.

"Hi," was all I managed to murmur, my voice sounding unreasonably horse. I swallowed thickly as he stared across the room at me, his eyes looking wider than ever. He blinked at my words, and I felt as if I could see the thoughts ticking away in his mind, even from across the room.

"Hi?" He repeated, his voice low and accusing. I realised that he didn't like the taste of the word on his tongue, because his face scrunched up, and his head shook quickly. Taking a step forward, he let his hands drop to his sides, showing off a pair of extremely bruised and blooded hands. They looked worse from what I had seen before I had left his apartment, and it made my stomach turn as my thoughts began to run again.

"Hi? That's all you're going to say, Sophia?"

"What do you-,"

"You didn't even put up a fight," he snapped at me, before I could get another word out. Taking one look at his face, I could see how his eyes were bleeding a thousand emotions. "I saw him, I fucking saw what he looked like before I got to him. Not a single scratch, and believe me, I looked everywhere. Why wouldn't you put up a fight?! I know you're cable of it."

Harry was speaking so low, despite his voice shaking with anger. There were small cuts across his cheek, dried blood curling on his chin. He looked inhuman. He looked evil. It made my fingertips shake as my grip tightened on the loose white hospital blanket. Despite how my body ached with pain, I couldn't help but tense at his words.

I had a feeling the nurses didn't let him in, and he was needing to keep his voice down because of it. Even with the haziness of my mind, I was still very alert and very aware and Harry didn't look himself. It made me more nervous than I would of liked to admit.

"I didn't-,"

He didn't let me finish. He moved until he was pressed against the bed. He braced his hands over the railing, so he could get a better look at me. I could see how his eyes flickered across my face, like he was analysing every inch of my skin. I didn't want to know how badly it was bruised, because he looked as if he flinched away at the sight.

Letting out a deep sigh, he hung his head, his bruised fingers turning white as they curled themselves against the railing. I didn't say anything as the dried blood on his knuckles cracked under the pressure, oozing out droplets of blood that travelled down his hand.