Secrets [H.S.]

35.

Harry Styles 

I was able to calm myself down on the way home. Glancing in my rearview every so often to make sure Aurora is still following me home. Her emotions got the best of her tonight and she didn't do what she wished to have done. I don't blame her at all. If I could find the fucker who killed my father, I wouldn't even be able to do what she did tonight. The pain would consume me entirely and I'd have to make it short and simple. 

I'm proud of her though. So fucking proud. She's so fucking strong and I admire her so much. I just hope she realizes it and doesn't let this be something that weighs on her shoulders. I'd do anything to take the pain away from her, to make her feel better even in the smallest of ways. She's way too good for the life me and her father brought her into, but somehow she's exactly where she belongs. 

I wish I could get her out of this though. I don't want her taking over. I don't want her to take on the weight of this all. She could do it, she could do it in a heartbeat, but she shouldn't have to. She shouldn't have to feel the pressure of taking everything over so soon, not when she hasn't been in this for that long. 

Pulling into the driveway, I wait for her to park her car next to mine before I get out of my car. I walk around to her door, seeing her with her hands gripping the wheel and her head resting against it. 

I pull the door open causing her to look up at me. She's void of any emotions. She gives me a weak smile, before turning her head to stare at her hands. Hands that still have blood on them. 

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." I whisper, reaching over her to unbuckle her seatbelt. She only nods, climbing out of her car with her keys in hand. 

She stays close to me as I unlock the front door, guiding her in before closing the door quietly behind us, making sure to lock it since we aren't going back out tonight. I watch as she drops her keys in the bowl next to the door, I do the same. I slip out of my shoes, crouching down to help her out of her boots. 

No words are said between us as we make our way upstairs and into the bathroom. I turn on the shower, making sure it's hot like we both like before I'm turning to face her. I take her in completely. She has some blood smeared on her neck, some in the ends of her hair, it's barely noticeable given how dark her hair is, but the ends are sticking together, a dead giveaway that there's blood there to anyone who's not the average person. 

Her body is tense as I slowly lift her shirt above her head, discarding it on the floor. She keeps her eyes locked on me, the steady rise and fall of her chest is my focus, too scared that if I look her in the eyes, I might be the one to break. I don't know why I'm nervous around her right now. I don't even know if it is nervousness. I think I'm still fired up from watching her and if I look her in the eyes right now I might not be able to control myself. 

My fingers find there way to the button on her jeans. I undo the button and zipper before sliding them down her legs. I keep my eyes on her legs as she steps out of them, still refusing to look up at her. 

She stands in just her bra and underwear. I unhook her bra, letting it fall down her arms and land on the ground in between us. Next my fingers are wrapping around her underwear, pulling them down so she can step out of them. 

I don't allow her to undress me, not like I usually would when e shower together. Instead, I urge her into the shower, before I'm quickly stripping down myself. I step in behind her. I watch as she watches the blood rinsing off her body, swirling around the drain. I grab her shampoo, pouring some in my hands before lathering it into her hair. I gently rub her scalp, washing her hair and any remnants of blood out of it. A soft moan leaves her lips as I give her a gentle head massage.