earned it [h.s.]

39.

TW: mentions of physical and emotional abuse.

Harry.

It was a long shower later that Genevieve and I were lounging in the fresh sheets of her bed, watching a very pixelated sixth episode of the David Attenborough-documentary we had been watching together.

I was munching on dry cornflakes, in just my boxers as Genevieve wore panties and a shirt – my shirt to be exact.

We had showered separately as I needed a little time to myself after my crying. Gen didn't coax me into the shower and instead gave me some space as she washed the sex-sweat off of her and came out looking and smelling all fresh and fruity.

She had taken a brisk one so there was more hot water left for me, and my lips curled up at the sentiment of her being so thoughtful. I gave her a long kiss to the lips and showered easily, feeling light yet heavy at the same time. These emotions were strong and a little complicated, yet I loved it nonetheless. Feeling like this, I loved it.

When I got out of the shower to see her in a shirt of her own, I pried it off of her – gave her tits some attention – before basically begging her to wear my own shirt from the night before.

With pink cheeks, I had admitted how much it turned me on to see her in clothes of mine. The grey shirt fell long on her thighs and exposed one of her shoulders when moving around too much. Genevieve was petite yet quite thick in the sense that she had flesh and thighs and curves. And she was god damn gorgeous.

We both sat up against the headboard in silence, her drifting off into little naps every once in a while as we passed some coffee back and forth.

"Bite." She murmured. I turned my head to see her lazily leaning into me with parted lips. I chuckled under my breath and scooped up some cereal, carefully putting the spoon into her mouth. She took the bite and hummed, "Thank you." She chewed the crunchy cereal and diverted her eyes back to the screen.

I could honestly hardly follow along with whatever the narrator was talking about. The screen was so pixelated and I didn't have my glasses, making all the animals just blurry blobs and I was too tired to really focus on anything anyway.

"Who's Diane?"

I stopped mid-bite to flick my eyes to Genevieve, who was staring at my phone on the bedding. I had used it to look up if this was healthy cereal or not – and it wasn't. Another little discussion that I had lost from Genevieve and that made her annoyingly smug.

I swallowed the cereal in my mouth, following her line of vision to see Diane calling me. I rolled my eyes at the timing of it, "She's my lawyer."

Genevieve frowned at me, "And why's she calling you on four in the afternoon on a Saturday?" Her tone held a tinge of something I couldn't really place. I put the empty bowl on the nightstand and scooted down a bit, grabbing my phone and ignoring the call, "Because she has no boundaries and I'm her only client." I spoke.

"Oh." Genevieve murmured, "Wait, wasn't your lawyer a man? What was his name..." She mused out loud with a concentrated frown in her forehead. Her blonde hair was lying over her chest as she played with the ends of it, "Daniel something?"

I cleared my throat softly and shifted a bit, "Oh. Yeah, he was originally my lawyer but – uh, I missed my appointment and had to look for someone else."

Genevieve rolled on her side, "You missed your appointment?"

I stared up at the ceiling and nibbled my lip before sighing, "I didn't go. I-I had second thoughts."

There was silence in the room and I eventually turned my head to face her, seeing Genevieve's eyes cast low before she slowly nodded, "Okay."

"So I met with Diane. She's like... really young and super enthusiastic. A bit judgmental but she's kind of nice. Except when she calls me on a weekend." I mumbled.