twelve

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chapter 12

When Harry came back, the silence was so awkward and deadly, I felt like we were at a funeral. We didn't say a single word to each other.

And the next day only made it worse. For the activity, we had to do this hands on project and the more Harry would avoid all eye contact, the more I wanted to bury myself six feet in the ground.

Honestly, I shouldn't have just jumped into it, I should have asked. But I couldn't help myself. I know it's no excuse but I honestly couldn't. I was sexually frustrated, Harry was right there, half naked and I just lost all sense of control.

All in all, the tension was on the verge of killing me. I couldn't take it. The awkward atmosphere. Harry could hardly sputter out a single word to me, let alone look at me.

Whenever he had to hand something over to me, he'd nudge me, holding whatever object up to me meanwhile refusing to look me in the eye. I felt mortified. And I can only imagine how weird it's gonna be tonight back at the cabin.

And as the day went on, I felt my stomach grow queasy, my nerves unraveling and making me feel nauseous. It wasn't until the end of the day, as I walked to my cabin after a few hours of talking to Mikaela about anything except what happened between me and Harry; everything I was feeling just drained, and I felt completely empty. And I didn't know whether or not it was a good thing.

When I reached the door, I held the knob in my hand and watched Harry from the window just sitting in his bed, looking down at his phone, staring at the black screen; looking as if deep in thought.

I sucked in a breath, turning the knob as the door creaks the more I push it open. And when I do, Harry looks up at me, eyes darting a different direction then back down at his phone, thumb rubbing over the screen as his free hand runs through his hair.

He looked stressed and I wondered if it had to do with something that's happened to him or if he was just in a bad mood. Still, I didn't ask. Not that I didn't want to. I couldn't. I physically couldn't say, let alone sputter out, a single word.

Silently, I walk over to the dresser, going through one of the drawers and pretended to be looking for something.

And as I did, I figured I may as well pull out some clothes to shower in. I didn't want to rummage through the drawer and turn around with noting in hand. It'd no doubt look obvious I'm trying to avoid Harry.

But then again, it's not like he's not trying to avoid me..

I yank on a random shirt and pull it out slowly, then sighing as I slowly turn back around. My heart is beating incredibly fast at how nervous I'm feeling. My stomach is in knots and I feel like I'm about to throw up.

I use up all the strength that I could muster up to say something and I took a large breath when I finally did. "Harry..."

He's silent for a few seconds, eyes low as he looked everywhere instead of me. But eventually, he turned his head and pursed his lips when he replied, "Yes, Reagan?"

Is it weird to say that I wanted to cry? I wasn't sad or anything. But my emotions were in over drive. I was beyond embarrassed for what I'd done, and I knew that if I tried to apologise, I'd be a blubbering mess.

But I pushed back those thoughts. I didn't wanna think about crying in front of Harry. I'd sure as hell look pathetic if I did so. So I gathered up all my courage and just let my mind speak freely. What could go wrong?

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