ERODA

~Chapter 48~

ANNABEL FLEMING

It has been three days since Harry told me a small portion of his past.

He didn't tell me much, just a sliver, I'm sure, but it already makes things make more sense. The way he always gets so upset over someone calling him Harold, the way his mood immediately switches into a different person if you call him by the name. It takes him back, back to a time he doesn't want to remember, to a time when his own father tortured him and left him in the dark for hours. I wish I could say that I can't even imagine how that feels, but I know exactly how it feels because Harry has done the same things to me.

If he hated it so much and knows how it feels, then why the hell would he put another innocent person through that? He obviously doesn't like to think about it, so why?

So many unanswered questions.

It has been odd around here the past three days. Odder than it usually is, anyway.

Every time Harry and I are near each other, we don't mention anything about the conversation that we had about his past. I can tell that he probably regrets telling me. We get silent when we are together and there are very few words shared, it's like when I first got here all over again, except this time he doesn't yell at me if I speak or pin me up against the wall.

I've stayed away in my room and he's stayed away doing his own thing. Like I said, it's odd.

As of now, I am in the kitchen, trying to scrape up any food that I can find. Harry has definitely been better about letting me eat. I'm not starving anymore, I can eat whenever I want to and my nutrition is getting better every day. A few weeks ago I looked like I was about to dry up, but now I am gaining back the weight that I lost slowly, but surely.

I'm shuffling through the refrigerator when I find some fruits to snack on. I've learned that Harry is a fairly healthy eater, which isn't a bad thing at all, it's just sometimes a girl wants some junk food. I need my chocolate now and then. I love fruit though, so eating it as a snack isn't a big deal at all. When it comes down between fruit and junk food, the fruit will always be my first option.

As I am cutting up a strawberry to add to the bowl of random fruits I've mixed together, I hear footsteps from the living room making their way into the kitchen.

I continue chopping the strawberries, only less relaxed now that I know the awkward tension for today is about to begin. I haven't seen him all day today, he's been in his room I think.

Once I can feel his presence in the room with me, I let out a deep silent breath and turn around.

"Hey," I give him a small smile and he responds with a slight head nod. With the bowl of fruit in my hands, I make my way to a chair at the table as he goes to the cabinet to get a glass, then fills it with ice and water.

I watch him as I slowly eat my fruit, studying his every move intensely. It's obvious that he is avoiding eye contact with me, most likely out of insecurity or regret, I'm not sure.

He hesitantly turns away from the refrigerator, his glass of cold water in hand as he takes a sip, finally making eye contact with me. His eyes are puffy and there is a slight redness to them that makes the green color more prominent than usual.

He's been crying.

I'm sure that I am not hiding the shock on my face well at all. My mouth is slightly open and my eyes went wide for a moment. His eyes immediately look away from mine and I feel terrible for proving that I can tell that he has been crying, but I was shocked I couldn't help it.