𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.
"Y-you want to kill me?"
"No, I want to ruin you."
Death Hood.
A cloaked serial killer that leaves behind blood trails, corpses with the same cause of death and nightma...
To refresh any memories I suggest revisiting chapter 11<3
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Halfway through trying on the dress, there's a knock that startles me from the outside of the changing room door.
After taking a picture of the number written on my arm, I spent two minutes rubbing the ink off my skin. It's very, very red right now but it got off.
"Esrin, I have to take a call. Might be a while, shop around and I'll find you when I'm done," Harry states, his voice slightly muffled through the door. I hear him walking off harder and I think that was intentional so I could hear him leave.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I hated the look on my face right now. It reeked of disappointment in myself.
If I had thought smarter at the moment and let Lennie put her number in my phone instead of writing it on my arm, I wouldn't have stopped Harry and maybe this wouldn't be happening.
Swallowing down the guilt, I went along with my day because I needed it. Pretending that things are alright is how I survive. Plus, I really did need to buy stuff.
The positive side is that I rather have him leave me than be under one of his interrogations about the number written on my arm. Even if I didn't he probably have picture memory and track it down the moment I deny to answer any of his questions.
Not long later, I managed to get everything that I needed and attempted to call Harry but he wouldn't answer. So I returned to the spot where he parked his car and there he was, sitting inside. One hand clutching the steering wheel and the other holding his phone as he belts out words, his face twisted in anger.
His eyes land on mine and he lifts the phone, tapping the screen I assume to end the call. He drops the phone and then Harry is bolting out of his car.
Without even asking or anything, he takes the shopping bags out of my hands and filled them into the backseat. He runs around the car and opened the door just in time for me to get in.
When I'm seated inside, he shuts the door and walks around the front. "I'm sorry for leaving," he tells me as he's buckling his belt. "It's fine," I didn't mean to sound as cold as I did. He doesn't believe me, I can see the guilt locked in his eyes.
"I really did have a long call, I can show you-"
"Was it because I said to stop?" I blurted out. Of course, I'd think that. Especially with my past experiences. I can't help but wonder that he couldn't deal with the dismissal. "No! No, no, never," Harry clarified without any hesitation, grabbing my hand that was sitting on my lap.
"We stop whenever you want to, okay? I don't care if it's at the beginning, middle or end. I will stop. And it's fine, just like today. It's fine," he assures me, calming my mind and bringing my palm up to his lips for a kiss in the middle. I think he's perfect. He has to be. Does he know how much that means to me? Will he ever?
