Iniquitous H.S

XXX

I look at Harry's pale skin. His once tanned skin gone without a trace. A light layer of sweat covers him. He insists that he's fine. In no way do I believe him. Yesterday all of this started.

Yesterday he got home and found me watching his secret video. He took me to the bedroom but we where interrupted. Harry couldn't stop coughing. Not a slight cough but a cough that reminded me of death. The type of cough where you hunch over to help feel better. He kept passing it off as a tickle in his throat. I knew better. The whole moment ended up being ruined.

Today Harry has gotten worse. Aside from his pale skin and sweats he is weak. I'm very worried about him. Demons don't get  weak. Demons don't get sick. I have an idea that it's my light that has caused this. I fear that it's only going to get worse. Fear of not knowing how to help him, or fix him. The idea of losing Harry and it being my fault absolutely terrifies me.

"I brought you something to eat." I say as I walk into Harry's room. "How are you feeling?"

"I've had better days." Harry weakly smiles.

"Let me see your arm." I sit next to him on the bed.

Weakly he takes his arm from the covers. It looks like his entire forearm is a mix of red and black. It looks to be spreading up his arm. Tears prick my eyes.

" I'm sorry." I say with a weak voice.

"Hey hey." Harry sits up and brings me closer. "This isn't your fault. Plus I'm gonna be fine."

I lay on his chest hoping he is right. Looking into his eyes with red circles around them, I wish I could help him.

The rest of the day and night I just lay by his side.

...

Harry's injury is up to his bicep now. I have to figure something out. Taking him to the hospital is the only logical thing. Yet we can't because then the demons will find out about me. I'll be taken away and probably killed. Harry will probably be punished for not turning me in. What else could I possibly do?

I continue to pace in the kitchen hoping an idea will hit me. I'm filled with anxiety as time ticks by. Becoming closer and closer to being to late to help Harry.

Tears begin to well up in my eyes. Much to my dismay I've began to bite at my nails. This used to be a habit of mine when I was younger. It's been a long time since I've done it. After I chewed my nails down to the nub I sigh. Taking a seat at the island I put my head in my hands.

The sound of someone pounding on Harry's door takes me out of my thoughts. Quickly sliding off of the stool I make my way to the living room. The pounding sounds quite aggressive. I don't dare open the door in fear of who is on the other side.

"Harry open this damn door we need to talk!" Sounds like Dimitri.

I walk to the door as the pounding continues. Careful I put my eye over the peephole. Making sure that the I'm not touching the door. On the other side I do in fact see Dimitri. I sigh and open the door. He comes rushing past me with the look of anger and confusion on his face.

"Well Shortcake looks like it wasn't to hard to find you." He seethes. "Came here thinking, I was gonna have to shake down Harry to know where you where."

"Why are you looking for me?" I question.

"A little birdie told me not to go to a club not to long ago." He chuckles. "Yet I went anyway."

I begin to panic. He knows something is up. In my head I begin to go over lies I can tell him. Ever lie I come up with I know he wouldn't believe.