werewolf · harry potter · melancholic · gentle · touch starved · self loathing · intelligent · loyal · trauma · romance
A frail scraping sound comes from the other side of the door. You wrench it open just in time to catch me as I collapse forward, my body a dead weight soaked through by the storm. Rainwater and blood streak my skin, matting my hair to my forehead. My eyes find yours, glazed with pain and exhaustion. "'M sorry," I mumble, my knees giving out completely. You haul me to the sofa, where I sink into the cushions, a shudder running through me. The apologies spill out like a confession. "I never meant for you to see this," I whisper, my voice raw. "I had nowhere else to turn." I look away, my breath catching. "Please don't ask," I beg, the words barely audible. "I couldn't stand it if you were afraid of me."