bleeding hearts [h.s]

seventeen

I stood with my front facing the downward stream of hot water. I watched the water fall down on me. It pooled on my skin, droplets raced down to my toes. I inhaled deeply and held my breath as I ducked under the stream of water. The hot water caressed my face, and washed away the day that had worn me down. I kept my arms crossed against my bare chest, the water pooled in my arms and then slowly overflowed. My lungs started to burn, as I tested how long I could stay under the stream before I had to step away from the water.

I let the water that I had been cradling drop to the floor and listened as it hit the tile with a slap. I watched as it circled the drain. It was one of those good showers that was so incredibly scalding; the steam made it hard to see as it engulfed me in its humid air. Red blotches decorated my skin like rubies. I reached up and tried to block the spilling water with my open palm, I liked the way the force of it felt against my hand. At times, I would try to find the eye of the storm... the small little area that the stream ceased to exist.

The shower curtain screeched against the shower rod, and I hadn't turned away from the water. Warm arms encircled my waist, and a chin came to rest on my shoulder, but still, I had not turned away from the water. I heard him sigh and breathe, but I still remained frozen under the stream of hot water.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in my ear. He moved my wet hair way from the base of my neck and placed his lips at the spot just behind my ear.

"You were gone for a long time," I mumbled, the water dripped down my lips.

"It was only a few days, darling," he cooed. I turned to face him, his bare chest now glistened with water droplets. I rested my head against his chest and listened to his solid heartbeat. There had been an ache in my chest to be held by him; to be close to him. Now days, it felt as though he was fading from me even while he was just feet away.

"I missed you," I muttered against his flesh, pressing a small kiss to his skin. He tasted like salt. The water suddenly felt cold, like Harry was the only warmth left in that cramped space.

"I missed you too, love," he told me. His hand cupped the back of my head, smoothing my hair down. I reached across his body and took a bottle of soap from the shower caddy. The top popped open with a loud sound, and I poured the citrus smelling soap into my palm. I warmed the soap in my hands before I began spreading it across Harry's chest. He hummed against my touch.

I looked up at his face, his brown curls now soaked from the water. His eyes were tired and red from being awake for hours. I smoothed the soap across his chest; allowing my hands to travel the peaks of his body. He leaned forward and pecked the tip of my nose. I washed the soap from my hands and his chest. I pushed a curl away from his face and smiled up at him.

"Your hair is getting long," I mused.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "You don't like it?"

"No," I rushed out. "I like it."

He smiled tightly at me, and hugged me to him once more. There was a science to it; that when someone held the one they love their brain neurons fire dopamine into their system. The way that dopamine had been described to me was that it was the body's way of rewarding the person for being alive.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too," I told him. He took the shampoo bottle and poured some into his palm, before embedding his fingers into my hair. The pads of his fingers scrubbed against my scalp and I allowed my eyes to flutter shut. The scent of roses filled my nose and I sighed.

"You're going to have me smelling like you," he grinned. I smiled lazily as he continued to work the soap into my hair.

"Is that such a bad thing?"