witness || h.s.|| ON HOLD

twenty-two || the sun will rise and so will the shame

the song for this chapter is Lost In Yesterday by Tame Impala :)

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'Cause it might've been something, who's to say?
Does it help to get lost in yesterday?
And you might've missed something, don't say
'Cause it has to be lost in yesterday
And you're gonna have to let it go someday

***********

Tate

The next morning brought all of the pain and regret that I knew it would. My head was pounding as I opened my eyes and squinted in discomfort at the bright light streaming in through the window. I didn't even have to turn around to see if Harry was there, I knew he was gone. I didn't expect any less.

Last night felt like a dream, or perhaps it was a nightmare, I hadn't quite decided yet. I was dreading walking downstairs and facing Harry. I wasn't sure how well we would go about ignoring last night's events. I didn't know how much of what Harry said last night was even true, if he meant what he said about how I made him feel, it could have very well all been a bad side effect of the alcohol. To be honest, I wasn't sure how I felt about it either, drunk or sober.

I wouldn't go as far to say I had feelings for Harry, and I don't think he had feelings for me either. I think he felt pity for me, and guilt for what was happening to me. I think that for some reason, Harry just felt safe to me, which sounded completely ridiculous. Harry terrified me, he made me quite literally shake in my boots. But at the same time, at the end of the day, something about him felt safe, and like I could trust him.

I think part of me was so desperate for the small comfort that human contact provided, and that was why I kissed him back. I just wanted to feel something other than the fear and anxiety that had been looming over me ever since all of this started, which was ironic, considering that Harry had been the one who made me feel that way in the first place.

I found a slight bit of reassurance knowing that he didn't want to see me dead. It was a sweet sentiment, but I wasn't stupid. I knew how things like this went. But at least I could hopefully count on him not being the one to kill me.

Pressing my hands to my face and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I groaned loudly as my head continued to pound. I decided to toughen up, and swung my legs out from under the sheets, standing up and walking over to my bag.

I pulled out some clean clothes and headed into the bathroom, turning on the shower and getting in, attempting to scrub the events of last night right off of my body, lathering soap over the memories of Harry's soft lips pressed against mine, and washing away the feeling of his body against mine while we slept.

I knew when I went downstairs, those memories had to vanish. I had to tuck them away into the farthest corner of my mind, put them in a box, and lock them in there forever. We were back in reality, and it was time to get to work.

I got out of the shower and got dressed, drying my hair with my towel until it was damp, and then pulling it back and twisting it up against my head, reaching with one hand until I found a large hair clip, and secured the hair. Reaching up, I pulled out a few strands by my face, taking in a deep breath and lightly tapping the countertop with my fingers.

"Showtime," I mumbled to myself, before heading out of the bathroom, slipping on some shoes, and trudging my way to the stairs.

I put on my best poker face the closer I got to reaching the end of the stairs. I refused to let Harry think that just because he had kissed me, I was going to be some sad, hopelessly romantic girl pining after him. No matter what he said to me last night, I was still just a mission, and I would complete my part and let fate take care of the rest.