Remedy (H.S.)

55

Kennedy Simmons

The sun was what woke me up, some mere rays of sunshine that managed to go through the curtains and land on my face. It was a warm and peaceful feeling.

I got off bed, took a  quickly shower, brushed my teeth and put on my usual clothes; black tank top and black shorts.

Ansel had given me the day off and he had asked me to stay in Harry's apartment. Apparently the building was like a fortress and there was no way anyone would be able to harm me there.

Today he would meet Dustin and try to convince him to stay with him for his own safety. We were aware that Clark wouldn't want that happening of course but Ansel had a plan.

I can't describe how thankful I was for that.

I collapsed on the couch and for the first time I opened my phone. I almost gasped when I saw the notifications.

I had in total 92 missed calls and 156 unread messages from Zayn, Mick, Charlie, Lincoln and Kendra but that wasn't even the most surprising thing.

82 missed calls from Harry.

234 unread messages from Harry.

I looked at the time of the calls. He had been calling me and texting me the whole night. He didn't even sleep!

I debated on wether I should call him or text him telling him that I was okay but before I could make up my mind the door off the apartment was opened so aggressively that it slammed on the wall with great force and Harry appeared.

As usually he was wearing black skinny jeans and a black button-up shirt and his long, dark curls were floating on his shoulders. The upper half of his shirt was unbuttoned and his sleeves were rolled up giving me a glimpse of his tattoos.

He looked so handsome that I had to take a moment to admire him but then I noticed that there was something different about him.

For the first time ever he looked so scared. Terrified. His breath was irrational as if he had been running a marathon and his eyes were reddish. He refused to look away from me probably thinking that I would dissapear if he did.

He dropped the bags that I only now noticed he was holding on the floor and ran to me. He kneeled on the floor right in front of the couch were I was sitting and started examining every part of.

His fingers gently touched my face, my arms, my legs and my waist while his eyes looked carefully for the slightest difference from the last time he had seen me. It was only then that I noticed he was slightly shaking. When he realized I was completely unharmed he allowed himself to relax a little and release the breath he was holding.

"Oh baby..." he whispered almost inaudibly. He took my hand in his and kissed it so tenderly that I felt my heart warming up inside my chest. "Who do I need to kill?"

The effects he already had on me were more dangerous than the fentanyl in my coffee. My heart was beating so hard that I was afraid he was able to hear it and the butterflies in my stomach were already having a party.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to be mad at him. He hurt me and he couldn't just crawl back in my life like that.

I pulled away earning a puzzled look from him. He stretched his hand my way trying to touch me again but slapped it away. "Don't act like you care." I said coldly.

The look of his face changed immediately. My words seemed to be more painful than a bullet would. He looked genuinely hurt by them.

He didn't have the right to be hurt. I was hurt because he left me without any explanation. He promised he would keep me safe and if I didn't have that complicated surgery yesterday I would be dead now. I had spent a whole month feeling alone and pathetic because of him.