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After quite a while of Harry begging me to let him in, I start to assume he gave up and left the door, because he hasn't knocked in a bout 4 minutes.

"Harry?" I whisper, making sure hes not waiting for me outside the door.

Thankfully, there was no answer.

I quietly open the bathroom door, tiptoeing out, heading towards the back door, out of Harry's house.

As I get closer to the exit, I notice a sad and alone Harry lying on the couch, one foot up, his hands over his head.

"Ugh.." I quietly sigh.

I hate that he makes me like him. I hate him because he makes me feel happy. Ugh I hate him because i like him. But I guess i should hate myself, not him. Right? What? I confuse myself. I wish I had my mom to help me with boy shit.

Before I knew it, I was opening my mouth to speak.

"I.. I'm sorry.." I whimper, walking towards Harry.

Of course he didn't say anything.

Silent treatment.

Lovely.

"Harry.." I sigh.

I lay down beside him, And Soon I find myself laying my cheek on his chest.

I feel Harry let out a breath beneath me as he wraps his arms around me, holding me as close to him as possible.

"I'm so sorry Alex.."

"Harry? Are you.. crying?"

He says nothing but sniffles and lets out yet another breathy sigh.

"I'm sorry you thought I was going to hurt you." He sits us up, with us both sitting cross cross, my hands in his.

"I would never hurt you.. I never could.. Please.."

"Okay." My voice high and shaky, my bottom lip quivering.

"Why would you ever thing that?"

"I just," I hesitate.

"Alex?"

"My moms boyfriend, hurt me a few times," I cry a little harder.

Harry tilts his head, waiting for me to go on.

"One night, I trying to protect my mom, when he was hitting her.. And he picked me up over his shoulder.."

Harry's face floods with concern as he looks me deeply in the eyes.

"He um.. He threw me into the garage ground, and started pouring something on me.. I thought to myself.. How could water.. Smell so bad?" I choke up before continuing.

"But um.. It wasn't water.. It was g - gasoline." I cough.

"And um,"

I continue.

"Once he finished pouring it on me, he locked my mom in the basement.. And,"

I fall into Harry's arms, crying in pain.

"And he set me on fire.."

I feel Harry tense up at my words.

"Soon the house was, on fire.."

I cry.

"And my mom couldn't get out.. Of the basement."

"I tried to get to her.."

"And um," I move my hair away from my face, revealing bubbling burn scars and deep razor cuts.

"I'll never forgive myself about my mom.." My voice muffled in Harry's shirt.

Harry lightly kisses my head, running my shoulders.

His breath is shaky and I can hear him needing a tissue.

"Alex?"

I look up.

"Can I count your scars?"

"What?" I sniff.

"Your.. Scars.."

"W - why?" I wipe my cheeks with the back of my sweatshirt.

"I want to see how many times you needed me, and how many times I wasn't there.."

"I.." I choke.

Harry begins counting, and ends up with the number, 91.

"91?" He asks himself.

"Stop, okay?"

I was expecting him to do more, but I guess he was just shocked.

He gets up, rolling me off him.

I catch his sleeve, rolling them up.

"104.." I finish counting.

He rolls his eyes.

"Stop okay?" I mock him.

He sighs.

He grasps my hands in his, looking into my eyes.

"I can take care of myself, Alex. I'll worry about myself, okay?"

I nod, looking down.

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