Journal Entry Nineteen

As I write, I am sitting in the bedroom directly across from the one Allison is sleeping in, and the early morning sun is shining against her bed. Her skin is glowing under the ember light, and it is taking every ounce of strength not to cross the hall and lay with her.

I am a liar.

I have not been truthful to myself, and my original plan is in shambles all within a span of twelve hours. But strangely, I don't care as much as I did yesterday.

The voices are still quiet, as they were all day yesterday. They only seem to shut off around Allison; maybe they're speechless out of frustration, intrigue, or something else.

I am only a man, and this overnight change of perspective is alarming. Maybe I've completely lost my mind.

No one really knows. I'm a liar.

-H

-----

When Harry awoke for the second time, the lights were much brighter through the windows. Squinting, he checked his phone and the time read 12 in the afternoon. Sleeping in has been quite a habit for him recently, which was surprising given the fact that he was always an early riser.

He got up and pulled a pair of sweatpants over his boxers so he could check on Allison. When he looked across the hall through the door, he noticed the bed was empty.

Moving across the hall, Harry then noticed a yellow post-it on the bedside table which he picked up and read.

good morning,

literally everything in your refrigerator is expired. how often are you even here?? anyway, i threw everything out and i'm making a run to whole foods up the block. be back in a bit x

He grabbed the note and shook his head in amusement. Leave it to her to be so nice about everything.

Sighing, he stretched his hands above his head and held them until he heard his muscles pop. He then walked out of the empty bedroom and into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

Just as he took a seat on one of the stools surrounding the island, the front door opened.

"Good morning," he called to Allison, as she tried to balance the large bags in her hands. "Here, let me help."

He jogged over to her and shifted the weight of the bags into his own arms. "Jesus, what the bloody hell did you buy?"

"Mostly dried goods, because if you're never here, these won't go bad for a while," she explained, before sitting down and fanning herself. "Thank you, I almost passed out walking back here with all that."

He nodded his head and started to unpack the groceries. Something in his chest warmed at the gesture Allison made for him.

Maybe, just maybe today he could let his guard down. After all, the voices were especially quiet this morning.

"Why don't we make breakfast?" He suggested, removing a carton of eggs from the bag and holding them.

She smiled brightly, which almost made him weak kneed. Almost. "That's what I planned to do in the first place, but I wasn't sure if you'd be up to it since you wake up so early."

"I actually woke up ten minutes ago," he said with a chuckle. "Unusual, but I've been sleeping a lot longer recently."

"I'm glad to here that," she congratulated wholeheartedly. "So, what do you want in your omelette? Peppers, spinach, bacon...?"

He removed all the vegetables from the bag, and began to wash them. "How about I cut some of them for you while you beat the eggs?"

"Are you sure?" She asked, skepticism clear on her face. "You don't have to."

When he nodded, Allison took her coat off and tossed it on the couch. It irked him a little to see something out of place like that, but not as much as it used to before.

She cracked the eggs in the bowl, and Harry retrieved a knife and proceeded to cut the onions first.

He chopped the onions but stopped midway when he heard his name being called. When he looked up, he saw Allison pouring olive oil on the frying pan, paying no attention to him.

Harry. It was a low whisper, and he now knew it wasn't from Allison.

"Leave me alone," he murmured quietly, chopping even more quickly.

Harry, Harry, Harry. It was now more of a tsk, and it frustrated him to the point where he sliced his own fingers, not realizing there was no more onions to cut.

"Fuck!" He swore, running over to the sink to run his hands under cold water.

"Are you okay?" Allison asked, turning the stove on low heat to stop the oil from burning. She then looked to the onions, saw there was blood on them and scrunched her nose in disgust. "Do you need any help—"

"I'm fine," he said sharply, before walking over to the bathroom to bandage his cuts. He didn't need her to help. He could do it by himself. He wasn't one of her stupid incapable patients.

He wasn't like them. He was different.

"I'm different," he told himself in the mirror before watching the blood from his fingers swirl down the drain with the running water.

You're the same, the voice disagreed. You're no different.

"No!" He shouted before shattering the mirror with his clenched fist and continuing to punch it. "No!"

"Harry!" Allison shouted in concern. She placed the spatula down and raced over to the bathroom, where she saw him on the floor. She crouched down and saw that he split his knuckles open.

He was panting and tears were streaming down his face. "Please, tell me I'm different. Tell me I'm not like the others."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just tell me!" He shouted, his eyes ablaze as they met her own.

Allison stayed quiet, before she shook her head. "I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't."

She stood up to full height and walked away.

"Allison!" He cried, in shock. She was leaving. She was leaving him.

He shot up and ran after her out the door, barefoot and shirtless into the December day.

Allison was outside waving her hand for a taxi and she almost snagged one before he grabbed her hand with his bloody one.

"Wait!" He stopped her, and she jumped back and tried to yank her hand away.

"I told you from the jump that his was unethical and shouldn't happen—"

"Shut the fuck up," he said before, yanking her to him and pressing his lips to hers.

They continued to kiss in the middle of the street, ignoring the honks from the cars and ignoring the biting cold that they were both poorly dressed for. She finally broke away for air, and panted before she shook her head.

"I must be insane for doing this," she said more to herself than him.

"Believe me, love," Harry said, his breaths coming out shallow, "in a contest of insanity, I would be crowned victor."

----
a/n: i'm so sorry.

it's been like three months since there's been a real update and i've been so busy with school shit and personal shit that I've only been writing like a paragraph a month.

I'm not going to promise sooner updates because I know damn well that ain't about to happen. But I won't leave y'all hanging like that again.

anyways, happy easter!

-rachel.