Dice [h.s.]

82

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"You betrayed me. And I know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt." -Olivia Rodrigo

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My body felt numb as I listened mindlessly to the screaming outside my door, the banging on the wall and the jiggling of my door knob. I felt like I was in hell, forced to listen to his mistakes.

Eventually, Niall pulled Harry away from my door and left the apartment. I couldn't move as tears streamed down my face. The thoughts that roamed through my head prompted me to leave my room and go to Niall's workout room.

I threw on shorts and a sports bra and jogged up his stairs. It took me a few minutes but I found the room in the farthest corner of the apartment.

Perfectly sitting in the corner of the room was a punching bag, accompanied by bandage and gloves. I quickly wrapped my knuckles, doing it weakly since I knew these were pointless.

My hands moved before my body could process I was punching the bag. My mind fogged with pictures of Harry and I sharing intimate moments. All of it seemed like a lie.

Every kiss, every handhold, every hug. All of it felt fake, planned, ingenuine. I felt my heart slowly crack as I punched at the bag and allowed another thought of him to flash in my brain.

Sweat began to drip down my forehead as I punched harder and faster at the bag, having no particular rhythm to my punches. The more I allowed my brain to think, the harder I punched. I wanted him washed out of my skin, my brain, my blood.

My skin scrawls every time I remember we've had sex or kissed with our tongues. I feel the urge to vomit when I think about the lies he told me, saying he trusted me.

My eyes squeezed shut as I punched. Pain spread through my knuckles and up my arms but I kept punching. I grunted as the pain continued to travel and get worse. I couldn't hear over my sobs, grunts, and punches. I missed the door opening.

"Kennedy!" I heard a shout from behind me. Suddenly I was being pulled away from the bag.

"No!" I screamed, fighting the person holding me back.

"You're bleeding!" The British voice caught me off guard. Louis' hands were around my waist, restraining me.

After a minute of fighting, I sank to the floor in a sob. My arms burned as I held my hands to my stomach. I didn't open my eyes, afraid to look at the mess I've created.

"What did he do to you?" Louis asked quietly beside me as I took my hands in his. I felt him push a piece of my hair behind my ear.

I pulled away nervously, sniffling as tears fell from my eyes. I refused to open them. It was going to hurt, even more than my hands did. I couldn't survive it.