𝑼𝒏𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏 ✔️

45.

The week went by slowly after Michelle's departure, leaving Monroe to sulk those days, barely wanting to leave the apartment and such.

At this point Monroe's body was slowly withering and discolouring, the patches on her skin coming and going like the sunset.

The bruises on her skin were like the sunset in many ways, how it was deep in purples, with hints of red and tints of yellow. And not eating didn't help, it didn't help gain her strength, it didn't make her feel happy.

She didn't feel a lot of things actually.

There were times where she felt too broken to be fixed, even by Harry.

But there were times where she felt warm and bright inside, with the help of the person that had been there for her when she was at the point of giving up.

And don't get her wrong, she was happy with Harry and she didn't want to feel ungrateful for the one person that managed to stick by her despite everything that has happened.

But she lost so much more.

And that's what consumed her, the much more.

And Harry saw her whither and then he saw her as happy as the flowers on a summers day.

He didn't really know how to feel about the ups and downs of the girl he loved so dearly.

He wanted to give her everything but he could easily take away everything at once.

But he didn't know he had the capability of doing that.

Their love was at first a spark; a small, containable heat, but now it was wild. The fire that was once a spark turned into so much more, something that they couldn't tame any longer.

Their love was so beautiful but could destroy everything all the same.

And in the nights for the past week, were two broken lovers holding onto each other so tight so they wouldn't slip away, with legs entwined with legs and fingers interlocked in fingers.

The whispers in the pitch dark filled with "I love you's" and "don't leave me's" and "I need you's."

They were so desperate to hold onto to each other that they didn't care whether or not they got burned.

And in the mornings Monroe would wake up with swollen eyes and sometimes she was left alone since Harry had to go to work but other days he was right by her, pulled against each other.

This morning however was different as she woke up with the same with swollen eyes and this time with a smell that made her stomach grumble. She woke up alone, in Harry's room and looked over at the washroom to see that the door was open which meant he wasn't in there.

She slowly got up, her muscles a bit swore and her skin a bit flush and went to go brush her teeth before heading downstairs in hopes of finding Harry.

It wasn't a feeling she'd like to have everyday as in the morning when she was by herself with nothing comforting her but the morning breeze of outside and the whispers of the wind and the brightness of the sun.

It didn't make her feel better that there was no one with her to comfort her. It didn't make her feel better that there was no one beside her in the morning in bed to wish her happy birthday.

"- don't know why I'm doing this shit," she heard Harry grumble as he attempted to finish the last of the pancakes, making twelve -the first twelve ending  up in the garbage.

And he truly didn't know why he was doing this for her since he was a shit cook and burned a kitchen down a while ago.

Maybe because he loved her, maybe because he was whipped and he'd do anything for her, or maybe because she never did anything for her birthday so he wanted this year to be different.