Hideaway [h.s]

110

Amelia Adams

"And that's what happened down there." Harry explained to me the entire painful event that was happening below my feet.

I feel shocked and speechless, not knowing what to say. My heart breaks knowing everything he was going through and that it was all happening as I was sitting silently against the cabin crying my heart out.

"Oh my god." Is all I could manage to say. We sit on the brown leather couch in the living room, facing each other. My knees stay folded while his arm extends out along the back of the couch.

"Yeah, so that's why I had to come back for you. And that's why I'm covered in bruises." He says while lights running his fingertips in circles against my shoulder.

"Well, you know what you always do to me when I have a bruise?" I smile cheekily while leaning forward on my palms.

"What?" He snickers as I crawl between his long legs, laying on my stomach so my chest meets his waist. He leans his shoulders back slightly to meet the arm rest, looking a tad bit confused of what I'm doing but overall trusts me.

"Kiss them better." I smile while grabbing the bottom of his black hoodie and rolling it up to expose his bruised muscled skin.

He chuckles as I fragilely kiss one of the massive purple bruises on his inked skin, making sure to be gentile, especially around the really bad one on his side.

"You're so sweet." He whispers as I place my hands gently on his sides and kiss every mark on his skin.

I eventually trail up and kiss the deep scar over his heart, moving my position to straddle his legs so I'm no laying across his bruises across his torso. I pull back and sit on his lap as he stays leaning against the arm rest. The light from the window is hitting his skin in a way that I can see ever single scrape, cut and purple bruise on his face.

His under eyes were the worst- they were so purple, branching from the sides of his nose. The left side of his jaw was also bruised- looking like he took a bad hit there. Then his cheeks were littered in little cuts and scrapes. His right temple was scuffed up bad, looking like someone dragged his face across gravel. He was covered in painful hits, but he still looked like the same perfect Harry to me.

He watches me examine his face, taking the opportunity to kiss me softly. His hand grabs the back of my neck to keep me pulled in- robbing me from my breath.

He pulls back, hearing the small smacking sound of our lips separating.

"We are going to have to go into town at one point and get you some proper clothes." He chuckles while taking a handful of the big loose green flannel I'm wearing.

"I like your clothes, they all smell like you." I reject while sitting up straight on his waist.

"I haven't worn that shirt since I was nineteen." He chuckles while looking at the thick plaid material draped over my body.

"I was going to ask you about this actually." I laugh while continuing on; "When did you decide to change your complete wardrobe?" I ask.

"Well, I was homeless for a bit. So I wore thick flannels because they were warm." He says while running his hand down my arm to meet at my wrist.

"Oh," I frown a bit, knowing he was on the streets when he was younger.

"Yeah that shirt and the red one has been through a lot of shit." He says while looking at the material.

"Like what?" I ask while looking down at the rugged material.

"I'm pretty sure I lost my virginity in that shirt." He chuckles while looking at the material.