Solace ~ h.s.

If he weren't there... I don't know what would have happened.

14Likes
34Comments
27109Views
AA

56. ⪻ 56 ⪼

⪻⪻⪼⪼

In an instant I’m kneeling before the porcelain toilet in the luxurious bathroom of our flat, emptying the contents of my stomach into the shimmering bowl. The only sound that can be heard throughout the otherwise silent apartment are my sobs and heaving breaths.

When I get heavily stressed or really worked up, I get ill. It’s my body’s way of ridding myself of all the bad toxins that are being cooped up. It’s been this way since I was a teenager and no amount of relaxation or meditation techniques has helped.

Continuously, the tears fall, staining my cheeks with the moisture. I don’t bother to wipe the tears as I cry hunched over the toilet. I simply let them fall into the contaminated water as I grip onto the sides of the bowl. I need to calm myself down if I don’t want to get sick again.

Unfortunately for me, that nightmare had brought up a fear inside me that I didn’t even know existed. It was almost as if my entire time since the accident was all an illusion, but instead of only losing my parents I was losing Harry, and everything I’ve worked toward since as well. That is my worst nightmare: losing Harry, losing my passion, and reliving That Night.

“Annie?” The small voice startles me from behind, causing my sweat stained forehead to meet the cool porcelain as I look up at who is in the doorway.

“Go back to bed, Edward.” I tell him through a scratchy throat and sobs. I don’t want him to see me like this, it’s embarrassing and humiliating. Why hadn’t I shut the door?

“What’s wrong?”

“I said, go back to bed. I’m fine.” I tell him, still not lifting my head to look at him. I try not to be too forceful, but with my exhaustion and sick feeling in my stomach, I fear I am just that.

When I don’t hear anything for a few moments, I figure he left, leaving me to cry to myself in the one bathroom we have in this flat. Letting a quiet sob leave my mouth, I wipe my mouth with a piece of toilet tissue before covering my mouth with my hand in hopes of remaining quiet. The last thing I want to do is alarm him more, or wake Harry.

“Belle?”

Too late.

“My God, love, are you alright?” Harry is at my side in a instant, his hand on my back.

As soon as he’s beside me, I feel the overwhelming sense of more tears rush over my body and I’m left sobbing loudly. Harry lays his hand on my head before peering over me to look inside the bowl. He pulls me to his chest, away from the toilet as he flushes my sick away from sight.

“Edward, go back to bed.”

“Is Annie okay?”

“Yes, she’s okay. Just go back to bed.”

Hearing the tiny footsteps leave us be, I pry open my eyes to the bright bathroom around us. I’m pitifully curled up on Harry’s chest, leaning into his shoulder and letting my tears soak his bare skin.

“I’m sorry.” I cry out, having real no idea why I’m apologizing.

Perhaps I’m apologizing on behalf of waking everyone in the flat up or maybe it’s because I feel as if I’m being overdramatic. I keep telling myself it was just a nightmare, that there is nothing I still need to be worked up about, but I can’t help it. My brain is spiraling out of control, taking me with it on this crazy ride.

“What are you sorry for, love?” Harry whispers, pressing a kiss to the back of my head as he reaches around and takes my clammy hand.

“I don’t know.” I blubber out, causing Harry to chuckle lately despite my state.

“Are you feeling like you’re going to be sick again?” He wonders. Just being in his arms makes me feel a bit better, so I shake my head. “Alright, let’s go back to bed and then you can tell me what happened.”

Harry helps me up off the floor, leading me to the sink so I can brush my teeth whilst he cleans the mess that probably missed the bowl. Not long after, he is slowly leading me back to our room and gently laying me down. He runs in and out of the room a couple times, grabbing me various things like a glass of water and a cool cloth to place on my forehead and checking up on Edward before crawling back into bed.

“Tell me what happened.” Harry lays beside me on his side as I lay facing the ceiling. The cool compress isn’t really necessary, I threw up because of stress not because I have the flu. Dancing fingertips along the trail of exposed skin on my stomach, draws me from my trance on the ceiling. “Come on, Belle, talk to me. I can help; I am a doctor after all.”

Usually I’d chuckle at his cockiness, but this morning I can’t find it in me.

“I, uh, it’s stupid.” I mutter, still staring up at the ceiling. Harry shuffles closer to me, pressing a chaste kiss on my cheek. “I had a nightmare.”

“What was it about?”

Taking a deep breath, I recite everything that I had dreamed. I told him about the bakery, everyone vanishing, the temperature, my clothes, the water, I told him everything. He holds me as I cry, allowing me to tell him all about the things I had experienced in my dreamstate.

I felt a little bit better upon finishing the account of what had happened. A small amount of anxiety was washed away, but there’s still some stress lingering behind.

“It wasn’t real.” Harry tells me, shushing me as I calm myself down. “Do you want to know what I think?” I nod my head, signalling for him to go on. “I think you’re stressed out about the opening of your bakery on Tuesday and the fact that Christmas is approaching, your first Christmas without your parents.

“You’re worried that when the twenty-fifth approaches it will feel like you’ve lost them all over again.Your birthday and Edward’s were tough without them, but Christmas is an entirely different spectrum. Christmas was their favourite holiday, right?” Nodding, I turn onto my side and toss away the cold compress on my forehead so that I can rest my head against Harry. “I also think you’re stressed because you’re worried about your bakery.”

“I am stressed.”

“I know, I’ve seen it over the last couple weeks especially. The late nights, early mornings, the stress eating.” He adds with a slight chuckle.

“Have I been gaining weight?” I find myself asking in my desperate state, drying tears lining my cheeks making me surely a beautiful sight. My question only causes Harry to laugh harder whilst he pulls me flush against his body.

“None that I’ve noticed. Besides, you’re perfect no matter how much you weigh.”

“Stop being charming.”

“Stop being the love of my life.”

My eyes fit up towards Harry’s in the darkness. Despite how dark our room is, I can still see the shine is green eyes give off. All over again I feel the need to cry, but this time they’re happy tears. He knows he can’t say things like that when I’m already emotional.

“But you know what? You’ll get through Tuesday, because you have me. I’m not leaving Belle’s, no matter how hard you try to kick me out. And Edward will be there for you, like he always is, sitting in your office and munching on snacks whilst he watches a film. And my mum will be there, she’ll probably insist on helping out, much to your benefit.”

“She already texted me twice asking what she could do.”

Anne has been with me nearly every step of the way with this bakery. Throughout the months leading up to now I’ve worked a couple more catering jobs with her and in return she’s helped me with getting the bakery ready for opening. She’s helped with getting my name out there, with the hiring process of my two employees, and even helped watch Edward when Harry and I were both working. She’s been an absolute delight.

“See, you’re not going to do this alone. I promise you, this grand opening will be a smash. And do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you are one hęll of a baker.”

I feel my cheeks blushing at his compliment and the uneasy feeling in my stomach slowly start to wither away. Snuggling up even closer to Harry I lay my hand on his bare chest, drawing random patterns over the ink printed skin.

“You were wrong about there only being two stems of my anxiety.” I find myself muttering, pressing my lips to his skin.

“I’ve told you time and time again, Belle,” Harry starts, brushing my hair back with his hand. “You’re not going to lose me, ever. What can I do to prove that to you?”

“You’ve done plenty, no need to do anything else.” I assure him, pressing another kiss against his chest. His arms instinctively tighten around me.

“Then why are you worried?”

“Consciously? I’m not worried. But subconsciously, I am.”

“Well, you need to tell your-subconscious-self to shut up.” 

⪻⪻⪼⪼

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...