Journal Entry Twenty Two

Allison is sleeping next to me, and I can hear her light snoring from where I'm sitting. It's more of a series of harsh breaths if I am being honest.

This entire plan was meaningless, because as I lay looking at her face, I can't find myself going through it. How can she manipulate me without even trying?

-H.

--

Harry closed his journal and placed it in the bedside drawer. As usual, he woke up earlier, and he couldn't help but brush Allison's messy auburn hair out of her face.

Her full lips were pulled up in a smile, and her expression was one of pure relaxation. It looks as if this was the first time she's gotten sleep in months and with the twelve hours and counting that she's been asleep, it was probably true.

"What are you doing to me?" He whispered to himself, shaking his head as he looked down at her.

Something within him snapped last night, and he wasn't sure if it was good or bad. The old scars and marks of Evan were still embalmed on her skin, and Harry almost wanted to create new ones to cover them up.

After a few moments, he rose from the bed to brush his teeth and head to the kitchen to make breakfast.

He opted not to make an omelette because of his still wrapped up finger, and settled for avocado toast since he knew Allison liked them.

While he was poaching eggs, he saw Allison walk out the bedroom, fully dressed with her coat on. "Good morning," she greeted, before making her way to the door.

"Where are you going?" He asked, moving towards her to grab her arm to halt her from leaving.

"Thank you for yesterday because I was not in a good place as you were there for me, but I can't take advantage of you," she explained, but Harry was not listening.

"You're not leaving," he simply said, taking her purse off her shoulder. She wasn't even wearing a blouse because he ripped the one from last night, so he slid her jacket off her shoulders and left her exposed.

"Good god," he murmured, taking in her body like yesterday. He would never get over her curves.

"I have to go," she managed to get out, shoving him away and pulling her coat back on.

"If it makes you feel any better, you could say I took advantage of you too," he said, leaning on the island stool behind him. "I could've said no to you when you asked me to make you forget. But I didn't, because I'm selfish."

Her lips slowly parted, and he just shrugged. "You think I did that all just for you? No one in this world is selfless, everything we do is for ourselves."

"Fuck you," she seethed, picking her bag up from the couch.

Harry laughed before smirking at her shirtless torso. "I already did."

Usually he loved playing with her because she was so patient and even tempered. She never retaliated, because that's who she is.

So it was a shock when Allison pushed him so hard into the kitchen counter, he swore his spine realigned.

"Fuck!" He swore, holding his lower back. "What was that for?"

"I am so tired of everyone thinking I'm weak." Her voice was no longer sharp. It was just ice cold. "People just talk to me however they want because, 'oh she's not the loud black girl so she must be submissive'."

Harry's eyes widened, when she strode towards him with her finger outstretched. "And here you are. From the moment I met you, you hated me for no reason. I read your previous reports. You only liked them because they didn't get into your head the way I did. You must've thought right off the bat because I was nice, I was easy to manipulate.

"You think I didn't know what you were doing, when you used to use innuendos and come onto me during our sessions? You think you're smart? Well, you're fucking not. And it's a shame that I actually fucked you and felt remorse, because you're a fucking sociopath."

Her nostrils flared, and she turned to leave but Harry grabbed her back and roughly pushed her into the wall. Her head snapped back, and she glared at him before pushing him back with all of her force.

"I hate you," she said, throwing her fists into his chest, "you fucked up bastard."

Harry yanked her jacket off and used both hands to rip her bra on half with a crude smile. "Now you don't even have anything to sneak out in."

He drove her back into the wall, and he knew it had to hurt because they were concrete. She winced but her eyes were determined to not show anything.

"Do you worst," she challenged, but it felt more like a taunt more than anything. "I've felt worse than this."

Harry said nothing else, he just grabbed the back of her neck to connect their lips. He knew that their kiss was nothing more than an angry confrontation of teeth and their tongue. Her leg wrapped around his waist, and he held it in place. If she wanted a challenge right now, she would get it.

He yanked both her jeans and panties down, leaving her body bare. He wasn't going to make this easy for her after that whole speech.

Studying her face, he noticed how her eyes closed and her body tensed even before he did anything.

"Beg for it," he whispered in her ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe. She hissed but she wasn't giving in.

His finger traced a path from her entrance all the way up to her clitoris, and he could feel her resolve cracking underneath his fingers. He slowly started rubbing at the bundle of nerves and even inserted a finger or two before she finally just gave way.

"God, just—" he didn't even wait for her to finish, and he yanked his pants down. It was a struggle to get his own down because of how hard he was, but he soon entered her.

She was so wet, and she must've been turned on before because he couldn't imagine their whole spat had her like this.

Allison moaned softly, and she bit his shoulder, probably not wanting to let him know how she felt but he knew.

He pinned her against the wall and she tilted her head back as small gasps and whispered curses escaped her lips. He was pretty sure she still wasn't in the right state of mind, but he didn't care. She was his, and he was selfish.

He could feel himself beginning to climax by his breathing starting to pick up, and before he could actually orgasm, Allison pushed him off.

"You're not wearing— I just..." her words got lost in her throat, and she began to hyperventilate.

Her eyes grew distant and teary as she clutched her chest, and instantly Harry recognized it for what it was. A panic attack.

"Allison, breathe," he said, pulling her over to the couch to sit her down. He picked his shirt off the ground and slid it over her head before resting his hands on her shoulders. He grabbed her arms and placed them behind her head to allow easier oxygen flow but apparently that must've triggered her because of the reaction that ensued.

"Get away from me!" She screamed, her arms flying out to hit him. "Get off me!"

"Relax," Harry coaxed, his voice soothing despite the pain from her hitting the side of his face. "You need to focus on breathing instead of me. In and out."

Her breathing slowed, and Harry rubbed circles on her back in an effort to calm her down.

Once she was breathing easy, she pushed him away. "Why do you do this?"

His eyebrows knitted together. "Do what?"

"You say one thing and do another," she told him softly, picking at a loose thread in the couch. "You just insulted me and then helped me. You're so confusing and not even my degree can help me figure you out."

He wanted to respond to her but all he could do is open and close his mouth. Truth be told, he had no idea why he was like this.

"Would you mind giving me an impromptu session so we can figure it out together?" He requested, giving her a small smile.

Her eyebrow raised, and she sat up. "Okay..."

He leaned back on the couch, just like the typical depiction of a therapist's office in the movies. "Tell me what's up, Doc."

"I'm not even a doctor," she said, stifling a laugh before clearing her throat. "But regardless of that, how are you feeling?"

"I've been feeling indifferent, but I don't want to be," he admitted, sitting up and getting serious. "I don't mean to hurt you, and I don't know why I do it."

"Tell me about your teenage years," she asked, putting her arms through the sleeves of his tee shirt. She was still naked under it, but Harry didn't want that to distract him. For once, he wanted to talk to her.

"My mother died, and I hated her," he admitted, sitting back on the suede couch. "She was never there for me, but she was there for my father, even though he cheated on her so openly. She would always welcome him with open arms and wide eyes like a fucking puppy."

"When did you first find out your father was cheating?"

"I was maybe 14, and my father decided to take me on a trip to the New York office to 'show me the ropes' or whatever the fuck he called it back then. He whispered in his secretary's ear and his hands started to wander, and I just knew it."

Allison shifted in her seat, and nodded before looking into his eyes. "What age did you start hearing voices and losing your touch with emotions?"

In past times, Harry felt the need to lie to his doctors about when it all started, but not with Allison. He felt comfortable enough to share his history to her.

Harry looked back in his life on when it all started. He was still in his teens when he started hearing low whispers saying how worthless his mother was. "Maybe a couple months after the trip."

Her eyes widened, and he couldn't help feel anxious about what her next words were going to be. "I think your first psychotic break happened when you saw your dad and his secretary together. That probably caused you to not only detach yourself from your family, but everyone else. The only two people you've ever known to love and trust disappointed you, which is hard for a teenage boy going through puberty."

His mouth was agape, until he could finally formulate words, which was irregular. "You got all that, just from a simple story?"

She smiled softly and nodded. "We could've gotten a lot further if you had just opened up to me like that during our sessions."

"Well, I am now," he whispered, leaning close until his lips were on hers.

---

Harry sat at his desk in his office, his head in his hands. Stocks were falling, and he knew it was entirely his fault. He hasn't been making public appearances, he's been blowing off meetings, and hasn't been in the office lately.

It felt like everything was falling apart.

"Stella!" He called over the intercom to his assistant. "Schedule a shareholders' and board meeting for tomorrow, both within one hour of each other."

"No problem," she responded, and he could hear the noise of a keyboard in the background.

At this point he almost regretted taking the company back, because this constant stress was something he could do without. Allison seemed to be the only light, but he couldn't be with her all the time.

He sighed before taking a sip of coffee. He couldn't make it through without having his coffee black and unsweetened.

"Sir?" Stella's voice paged his through the speaker. "There's an Emily here to see you."

Harry put his head into his hands. He's been dodging her for the last month, and he couldn't do it anymore since he couldn't ignore her in the office. Especially since she was a shareholder.

"Send her in," he said reluctantly, and exactly thirty four seconds passes before she sauntered into his office.

Emily looked nice as usual, except for the scowl on her face. She was wearing a pencil skirt along with a red blouse that had her cleavage in display, and had People Magazine tucked neatly under her arms.

"What, Emily?" Harry asked, annoyed that she was interrupting his work day.

She scoffed and threw the magazine into his desk. "You're on the cover."

His eyes trailed down to the front page, and there he was, kissing Allison in the street with his bloodied hand and no street. The headline was: CEO Gone Wild, Is this Business or Pleasure?

His eyebrow raised, and he looked up at Emily. "What is this supposed to tell me?"

"You're not only on this cover, you're on Global Enquirer, Page Six, and the New York Times!" She screamed, which make Harry want to choke her out. "Do you know how bad this is for business that you're fucking...that?"

Harry stood up, and leaned closer to her instantly. "Watch your fucking mouth. I'm not going to let you disrespect her when she is ten times better than you'll ever be."

Her jaw dropped, and he saw the slap before it was coming, so he grabbed her wrist.

"Take whatever pride you can get and leave my office now," he murmured menacingly, before pushing her away.

"What does she have over me?" She asked, her head shaking. "I'm better looking than her and probably richer than her!"

"Sometimes it's not about material things, have you ever thought about that?" He asked, scanning her body. He knew this outfit cost thousands of dollars. "What would you have if you didn't have money?"

Her eyes widened, and she was unsure on what to say.

"Come to the shareholders' meeting tomorrow, because other than that, I have nothing to say to you," he said, walking over the door so she could leave.

"You're an asshole," she spat, before whipping her hair in his face and leaving.

He shrugged, and slammed the door behind her. When he returned to his desk, he was irritated when he wrapped his hand around his mug.

His coffee was cold.

-----
a/n: yooooooo. I am so sorry if the bottom half of the chapter makes no sense bc I am high as fuck right now but I knew I need to finish this up

I'll go back and edit but I'm too sauced to actually do that now.

ENJOY

-Rachel