Ecstasy, Misery

25 | a little reminder

do you smell jealousy?

jealousy, jealousy

circus envy - r.e.m. (1994)

June 13th, 1998

Harry's been acting weird the last couple days, ever since he helped me out with my little orgasm situation.

It was a little awkward leaving his room that night; after getting us cleaned up he offered me one of his shirts to throw on for my journey back up to my room so I wouldn't have to squeeze into my tight bodysuit again. It fell past my skirt and landed mid thigh and as I gathered up my bodysuit, underwear and, um, toy, Harry just kept staring at me looking very disconcerted and looking on the edge of saying something.

It wasn't until I had one foot out the door that he spoke up.

"Hey." He piped up suddenly.

I turned back around, one hand on his door handle and he pointed down at the wet spot on his sheets from when I...from when everything...happened.

"You want me to cut that out so you can frame it?" He asked blankly, fronting a serious tone.

I rolled my eyes, acting annoyed, but after his weird silence and staring the last couple minutes, I was actually relieved to see him joking around again.

The next morning when I snuck back down for my stupid half of an oxy, I ended up having to barge in and throw the shirt he lent me hard at his sleeping face, half covered with his blanket pulled up high.

He groaned and flipped over, pulling the blanket completely over his head, so I turned on the red light of his room and bounced dramatically onto the bed next to him, deciding it was time for payback from when he traipsed into my room in the early morning hours that one time.

"If you're not here to give me a morning blow, I suggest you get the fuck out." He groaned quietly from under the blanket, slurring words together groggily with his voice coated in sleep.

I pulled the blanket back roughly, making him groan out loudly again in protest.

"Nope. I'm here for you to give me my morning oxy." I quipped and then rolled my eyes, remembering his new rule before adding through gritted teeth, "Please."

"No." He grunted out and pulled the blanket back over his head.

"What?" I pulled the blanket back down.

He gave up on the blanket and pressed a pillow over his face, holding it there with both arms and giving me a clear view of his tanned, tattooed chest. "You said last night that it's not hurting anymore."

Shit, I did let that slip.

And after...everything...he flipped me over on my stomach to take a look at the branding, to see how it's healing. All of the gross crusty burn aftermath has shed away and I'm now left with the bright red, clear print of 'Colossians 3:20'. I almost liked it better when it was gross and messy because it was harder to read; now it's back to looking like a real, legible branding again.

"I said it feels mostly fine, it still hurts a little." I put a slight whine in my tone to sound more vulnerable.

"Take some Tylenol." He rasped out, voice still muffled from the pillow over his face.

I sighed out, frustrated and got back up, crossing his room back to the door to leave, knowing I wasn't going to get anywhere with him. When he makes a decision, he never strays from it and no amount of pathetic begging or nice little pleases will change his mind.