Fifty Shades of Him (h.s. au)

XXXIII

There is silence in the house, my fingers flipping through the pages of a book slowly as I read. When I see Harry's presence in the corner of my eye, I try to remain calm but my insides turn. Last night was horrible in every way imaginable.

There was yelling and screaming, things thrown at walls, and too much hurt involved between us. It was as if Harry turned into his old angered self again, wanting to hit everything in his way. I ended up sleeping in the bathtub since I locked myself in the bathroom to stop him from seeing me cry. The feelings I hold for him overpower everything and I'm afraid he'll laugh at me for it.

"Staring won't make me go away," I say, his fists clenching.

"I told you, I don't want you to leave. Stop being stupid," he grits, my hands shutting the book.

"This is exactly why I'm upset. You calling me stupid and a bitch and other such names make me want to leave. You're not the same Harry you were a few days ago," I tell him, his stature attempting to be intimidating.

"Would you stop thinking about yourself for one goddamn second?! I'm the one that was just told I can't have a child. I can't have something I want," he says, my head shaking.

"That doesn't mean you have to hate everything. There are other ways to go about bad news, but you've managed to make everything insufferable. Open your damn eyes and see that there is someone who cares about you," I say, walking out of the room.

His footsteps follow me into the bedroom and his hand wraps around my upper arm, my resistance failing.

"Stop this! If you keep man handling me I won't talk to you," I say, his hand shoving me.

"Don't fucking talk to me like that!" he yells, my past flashing before my eyes.

"You know what? You're just like him," I whisper, his eyes so dark they're almost black.

"You're just like him. Beautiful but so ill-tempered. And I'm just a silly girl who keeps falling for men who hurt me," I say, Harry's face dropping all anger.

My nose sniffles and I shake my head, conjuring what to do next. His demeanor is Ian's right now and I can't be around that.

Without a moment to pass, Harry's out the door without a word. The bed sheets are still warm and I wrap myself in his scent, wishing it were him and not a pillow.

A knock on the door awakes me from my small slumber, my eyes still puffy from tears. It's late and I don't want to deal with anything anymore. There is so much that is on my mind.

Upon crawling out of bed, another knock sounds at the bedroom door and I grip the knob. Harry stands on the other side, completely disheveled, and stands still.

"I want you to read this," he states, handing me a leather bound journal.

"Just read it," he says, my fingers wrapping around the pages. He stalks away after handing it to me, slamming the front door shut after.

Everything is written in the front cover, my fingers flipping through the slightly tattered pages.

He's written play by plays of every dates we've went on, written quotes that remind him of me, and explained everything he feels.

There's a part of me that wants nothing more than a simple kiss and a token of her heart. She is the soul life of amazement and joy, taken on in human form.

There is no denying the simpler fact that she is better than everyone. I'm incapable of leaving her alone and I fear for her and myself when we're separated.