After the End: Book 4

13. Fishing To Avoid It

Harry's POV

"Do you have any sevens?" Phoebe asked me cheerily.

"Go fish," I replied. I wasn't mustering the same enthusiasm. I was glad she couldn't see the tired look on my face.

She cursed under her breath, but I could still hear it coming in through the door. Phoebe cursed like a sailor. It sounded funny coming from such a childish voice.

"You're turn," she reminded me.

I looked down at the cards in my hand. Our current distraction was rather reminiscent of a different time for me. I was still kind of surprised that I was doing this.

Phoebe had let me wake up on my own sometime in the early afternoon. I'd fallen asleep what felt like several hours into listening to her read, and I'd slept through the rest of the night and into the day. I hadn't slept for so long without a substance in my body in a very prolonged amount of time. I'd woken up groggy and confused with two pieces of toast on a plate next to me. It was joined by a glass of water and the single deck of cards. The door to the bedroom had been cracked open again.

The deck was Lux's. She'd painted the cards herself, with multiple small colorful fish labeling the numbers. They were adorable. It had taken her a long time and we'd actually played them often. I'd stared at the deck for a long while wondering if I'd get a wash of emotions and start crying. I didn't.

I tried to eat the toast. The first piece was dry and already cold, but I ate it anyways and sipped water. I'd gotten a little too brave in attempting the second piece. I shouldn't have pushed my luck. It was a good thing Phoebe had left the door open for me, because I barely made it to the restroom before retching into the toilet. As fast as the nausea had hit, it subsided. I rinsed out my mouth with cold water from the sink, and risked a glance in the mirror only to see how horribly purple the bruising on my temple and my eye socket had become. The ones on my chin were fading. Louis hadn't hit me near as hard.

My own appearance unsettled me. I didn't like looking at myself. I felt like I was looking at something I wasn't supposed to see.

I peeled my eyes away from the reflection and rushed back into the hallway intent on returning to the bedroom. I paused once outside the doorway because I could hear Phoebe laughing from the living room. I listened for a moment, concluded that she was on a phone call and then went back to the room.

The memory of my own reflection lingered in my brain. I couldn't get past the hollow look in my eyes, or the injuries reminding me of how I'd acted out. I was a mess. I looked like a mess. There was no hiding it. The thoughts consumed me and so I pushed the door closed on myself. Staying in the room felt safe. I couldn't fuck things up from in there.

Phoebe had returned a bit later. She wanted to come in and play cards with me. I'd asked her to stay out. I felt emotionally heavy and volatile. The room felt safer when I was the only one in it. I felt groggy from sleep and my brain had woken up with strong urges and I just needed to get my bearings with myself before trying to function around her. It was the only think I could think to do without embarrassing myself or doing something I couldn't take back.

I kicked her out. She didn't argue at all, but sat outside the door like she'd done the previous night. After several quiet moments of living with my thoughts, I'd opened the box, pulled seven cards out for myself and then slid the pack through the space under the door towards Phoebe.

"Draw seven cards," I'd instructed. She didn't even hesitate. The games had begun.

We had been playing Go Fish on and off for 3 hours. I was surrounded by little pairs on the floor infront of me. I was winning this game, I guessed, even though I couldn't see her cards through the door. I'd lost the others.