2.7

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BELLA'S POV

I found myself sitting silently in the warmth of Harry's car. He drove contently back home. I could feel his eyes on me every few minutes. I know he's worried about me, I can sense his anxiety.

"Bells," he coos, softly rubbing my thigh.

I don't look at him. I stay quite, looking out the window at the buildings and trees. The city was quite busy today.

"You worry me, my love. I'd wish you'd speak and tell me what's on your pretty little mind. I've missed your voice," he urges.

I want to cry. I want to scream it out. I want to tell him all that's happened. Right now isn't the time nor the place for that. He will surely wreck and kill us both if I tell him right now.

I turn slowly toward him and give him a sympathetic grin.

It's going to kill him.

"There's something you're not telling me. I don't want to push you if you aren't ready to talk. I've just missed you," he frowns.

"I missed you more," I mumble.

It's the first thing I've said since we left the warehouse. Everything hit me so suddenly when we got in the car. I started thinking about everything. It's just a but too much to talk about.

He grins and his cheeks flush. His thumb rubs at my thigh. I nearly wince when he rubs over a bruise but I hold back my whines.

I'm glad he's well.
I don't have the heart to tell him that his hands are starting to make me uncomfortable for they remind me of Alex's.

I cringe at the feeling, looking back out the window to occupy my mind.

-

I sit in the middle of mine and Harry's bed. I've missed this bed. It's been nearly a week since I've slept in a bed. I feel exhausted but my mind won't let me rest. Harry is downstairs fixing some food. The gesture is nice but I don't know if I can stomach food just yet.

I don't like being alone up here. Even though they are both dead, I still feel like something could get me. I'm tired of crying but I feel tears flood my eyes once more. Maybe I should tell Harry.

I'm at a point of no return. This is my life now. I have to live with this feeling forever.

"Harry," I whine as tears spill from my eyes.
I know he can't hear me.

I climb off the bed and hesitantly leave the room. I find myself trotting down the steps with my silent cries. I see Harry's back facing me, leaning over the stove. I hear him humming softly to the music he has playing.

I let out a shaky breathe as I move towards him , he doesn't know I'm behind him.

"Harry," I cry.

He freezes and drops the spoon into the pot of soup he's cooking. He looks worried as he spins around to see me.

"What's wrong, baby? Come here," he coos and opens his arms for me.

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