painkillers. - H.S ✔

never again

Marielle's POV.
I sipped a little of the tea and set it down on the dark marble counter. The tea was a lemony flavor and smelled amazing. The small apartment was filled with boxes. I would offer to help, but Trent would be home soon.

I really did surprise myself today by saying 'yes' to his invitation. I was trembling for a moment, trying to think of an answer. But I just couldn't say no. There was something about Harry that I couldn't put my finger on. He seemed like someone I could trust.

But I loved Trent, I kept my mind on that every time my eyes fell into Harry's. I had left my home and family for Trent. I couldn't leave. I'd fallen deep into love and I wouldn't be able to crawl back out unless someone would pull me out of it.

We didn't talk much, Harry and I. There wasn't much to talk about. I didn't want to talk about family, and I didn't want to ask about his. I tried to convince myself one too many times that it was because we weren't meant to be friends. I was meant to be back in the dark and dimly lit apartment, cleaning until my feet and hands fell off. Or sitting in the bathtub, crying or trying to scrub the pain off of myself.

But I just couldn't.

While Harry downed the remains of his tea, I watched him. How he ran his fingers through his unruly curls, how his eyes were more beautiful than an emerald, how his pink lips turned up into an unforgettable smile. I noticed tattoos peaking out from his button-down shirt that he had buttoned down four buttons and from his arm. I couldn't help wondering what they were.

I always wanted a tattoo. But I had enough tattoos; emotional ones. Reminders. I couldn't add any more.

I sipped more on my tea. It wasn't hot anymore. I just felt awkward. I felt scared. But something felt right. It felt nice and safe to be in here.

I remembered Harry saying that he wrote songs. I wondered if he was just a songwriter or if he played instruments or if he could sing. I imagined he could. His voice would sound beautiful I bet. But I would never stick around long enough to hear it.

"How long have you and Trent been together?" He asked, and I took another long sip from the white mug before answering.

"About four years. It's never been that serious up until a couple years ago though." He nodded, I nodded.

It only became serious when he began to hit me. I realized that it was about time that I stopped playing around with the relationship. I had to do my part and be the woman he needed me to be.

"What time is it?" I asked, trying my best to be as polite as I could be. He held up his arm to check his watch, but he didn't have one so he resulted to the stove.

"About five-ten." I gulped down as much tea as I could and profusely thanked him before throwing open the door and running back to my apartment. His confused and slightly pained face embedded itself into my mind. I would have stayed if I wasn't terrified of Trent finding out that I was hanging out next door. Last night wasn't anything nice. I didn't want it to happen again.

And it wouldn't, because I wasn't going to go to Harry's anymore. It was a stupid decision that I'd made out of fear. It wasn't a good idea to take risks like that.

I leaned up against the door, Trent's autumn coat brushed against my arm and his rosemary scent filled my nose. I sighed, if only we could be like we were before:

Dumb, spontaneous, and happy.

-
American hotline for domestic abuse:1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

Website link for more information and numbers:
http://www.thehotline.org

Watch these:
https://youtu.be/WL3rfk2iFww
https://youtu.be/hhHdIhfK7LQ
https://youtu.be/5Z_zWIVRIWk