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Once Again

Once Again || 10

*Michaela*

Harry walked out of our room.

And left me alone

'Of course he fucking left you alone- you're a nasty slut who deserves nothing but death.' My subconcious sneered.

I groaned- this is why I hate being alone. A lump formed in my throat as tears began to flow. I put my clothes back on and walked into the living room.

Michael and Luke were still awake and were watching Ted.

"Where's Harry?" I asked.

"We don't know- he stormed out of the living room." Luke answered.

I sighed and sat next to Michael on the couch. I couldn't hold it in anymore- so I dug my face into his neck as cold tears ran down my cheeks.

"Woah- hey hey hey." Michael pulled back.

He cupped my face with his hands and wiped my tears.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

I shook my head.

"Harry." I whispered quietly.

He pulled me back into him- even though it was a bit awkward. He held me as I softly cried on his chest. He rubbed my back soothingly and my breathing slowed. I stopped crying as darkness over took.

*Harry*

I got back from the club to find Michael and Michaela curled up together on the couch. Anger boiled through me. I was about to speak when Michael held his hand up to stop me from speaking. He pointed to her face and I looked closer at her.

Her eyes were red and puffy, same with her cheeks. She had tear stains and her lip quivered every time she exhaled.

"She was sobbing as soon as you left." Luke whispered.

Luke was curled up in a ball and stared at the blank T.V.

"Hey guys, what's hap-" Ashton stopped speaking once he saw us, "What happened here?"

"I was being an asshole." I ran my hand through my hair.

"I think you're just a little stressed." Luke corrected.

"Still doesn't give me a reason to be a dick." I sighed, "Thank you Michael for stopping her from.. Cutting."

Michael nodded and handed me Michaela. I picked her up and carefully and walked into our bedroom. I laid her down on the bed and covered her up with the covers. I shut myself in our bathroom and sat on the toilet seat.

Hot tears ran down my cheeks.

It's my fault she's pregnant. If I never kidnapped her- she wouldn't have gotten raped. Or almost committed suicide. Or be in as much pain as she is in now.

I ripped off my sweater and grabbed my razor. I dragged it across my wrist a couple times just to see blood rush down my arm instantly.

I jumped when the bathroom door opened.

Michaela stood there, eyes widened at my wrist. Her whole body went pale before her knees gave out and she fell to the floor.