Wild Side [h.s au]

Chapter 33

Harry

"I don't understand. Our little tour begins in your flat?" Elena asks quietly when I close the door, making sure to lock it behind me.

"Yes," I reply, taking her hand once again, standing so we're facing each other. "Hi, I'm Harry and I'll be your guide tonight, please stay close to me and don't touch anything. Thank you, let's go."

She laughs lightly, following me as I walk toward the two doors to our right. One of the doors leads to my room, but that's not the one it matters at the moment. I gulp when I anxiously glance at the other door, squeezing Elena's hand unconsciously. "So, this room right here. . . it belonged to someone who was very important to me. Someone whose death resulted in me becoming this way."

Her eyes bore into the side of my face and I know the look she's giving me; it's probably filled with empathy but also pity, and I don't want to see it. "It's my fault he died," I admit quietly, taking a few moments to ponder it, starting to feel glum and a lump forming in my throat. "Moving on," I manage to say, clearing my throat as I glance at her.

She doesn't try to persuade me into telling her more, only following me silently while I walk toward the bathroom. "Have you ever been so disappointed in yourself you couldn't even stand looking at your reflection?" I ask, seeing how she's noticed there's a mirror missing. I broke it months ago, it made my hallucinations even worse and I reacted when I was in that deluded state.

"I have," she surprises me by answering. I wait to see if she's going to say more, but she doesn't.

I turn, pulling her along with me out of the bathroom, stopping in the living room. I lift our joined hands, making her look at them. "My rings. Most don't have a meaning, besides the silver one since my dad gave it to me." I then lift my other hand where a sole ring is. "Now this one. . . this one has more than one meaning." I look at the letter engraved on the circle attached to the ring, feeling that familiar sting in my chest.

"We don't have to do this if-"

"No, that's okay," I assure her. "It's just. . . I haven't really verbalised these things, you know, these parts of myself. Because that room keeps a part of me and my past that he took with him, that mirror represents the part of me that's gone and the part that keeps reminding me of what I did. The ring represents the part I'm trying to listen - the one that tells me I should move on and fight, but never forget."

"Even my tattoos mean something to me. All the scars on my skin have a story too - well most of them are there because I was too clumsy - but that's not the point, the point is, they're a part of me." I pause, finally daring to look into her eyes. "I know I'm definitely a handful, despite the fact I'm amazing, and funny, and gorgeous-" she raises her eyebrow, giving me a look "-yeah okay, I'll stop. Anyway, I just wanted you to understand why am I the way I am. I'm still not ready to tell you the whole story, but-"

"Harry," she says. "You don't have to explain yourself to me, it's who you are. If I had any problem with that, you and I would never have happened."

She lets go of my hand, looking slightly anxious. "I have a few parts of myself I've been keeping locked away or hidden, too. One of them is that dreadful tattoo which is a reminder of my past. It's both good and bad, I guess. Good because it reminds me I'm a survivor and bad to remind me of my mistakes. . . both past and future ones."

"I accept you with your past and your mistakes even though it might not seem like it, even though I tend to have doubts like every human being does."

She gives me a small smile, her eyes glancing at her bicep and I fear of what she might do. "Don't. . . don't reveal it."

"I wasn't going to," she defends, a slight frown forming a crease between her eyebrows as she takes a step back. "I know how you react when you see it, I'd never do that to you on purpose."