Plunge
Bipolar
~Cassidy~
I awoke the following morning, the sunlight hitting my eyelids forcefully. I blinked rapidly, trying to get my bearings, not remembering anything from the night before. My room was the exact same. I was warm, and I felt a slight pressure around my entire body.
I tried rolling onto my back, my eyes opening fully, and then gasped. Right in front of me was Harry.
He looked really cute. His eyes were closed lightly, his lips parted, his nostrils flaring in the most adorable way as he sucked in and dispelled air, making his entire body move. His whole body seemed to be shielding me from something, practically cocooning me, and I then realised that that was why I felt so warm.
“Oh my God,” I murmured, momentarily fearing the worst—we’d had sex, hadn’t we?
And then it all came rushing back to me, hitting me so hard that I felt as though my chest had constricted, and I fought to breathe. Matt had come back yesterday. The picture frame. A quiet, barely audible sob fell from my lips. I smacked my hand to my mouth, hoping that he hadn’t heard it.
Fuck.
His eyelids fluttered a few times before expanding open. He yawned, making the most adorable sound, and shook out his hair, one of his hand momentarily disappearing from my body to run through the curls and waves, before he settled it back down on my hip, unknowingly stroking the strip of skin visible above my bottoms.
A part of me ebbed at my brain to tell the rest of my body to move. I shouldn’t’ve been cuddled up in his arms here; it wasn’t how things were supposed to work. But his scent was like a drug to me; I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep, and simply nestled my head farther into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.
He froze, as though he had also just realised what had happened.
I couldn’t help but to smile lightly, but immediately kicked my brain for feeling that.
I’m not supposed to be happy right now; I’m enveloped in the arms of the boy I hate, yet it’s the boy that I can’t figure out, the boy that’s a mystery to me, messing up my head and my feelings and emotions.
But I feel so calm right now. This is a moment filled with calamity in my hectic life, and I want to enjoy it. So I pushed any contradicting thoughts out of my head, and simply sighed, snuggling a bit more into Harry’s embrace.
He seemed to realise that I was ‘asleep’, and he just fastened his arms a little bit more securely around me, clearing his throat lightly.
He placed his lips next to my ear, his hot breath running down the column of my throat, and it took all of my willpower not to squirm. I simply smiled gently into his chest.
He pressed a kiss to the side of my head, making my brow furrow; those same negative thoughts immediately clouded my mind again; littering the space in my head like a hazy fog.
He’s kissing me. This shouldn’t be happening right now.
But it feels so good.
Once again, I forced those thoughts out of my head as the feel of his lips moved. He pressed a feathery kiss to the shell of my ear, making me exhale quietly, trying not to sigh in pleasure. His lips continued their descent even further and he pressed them onto the spot right behind my head, parallel to my earlobe. I bit my tongue to keep myself from making noise.
He pulled back slightly, pressing a tender kiss to my temple. My eyes fluttered, but I don’t think he noticed. He moved a bit, planting another peck on my forehead, before kissing the tip of my nose, and each of my cheeks. Wherever his lips touched, I was on fire.
What am I doing?
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and then I remembered that I was supposed to be angry with him.
The shards of glass from the photo frame were probably still on the floor.
I shot away from him, fighting to get out of his grip. Surprised, he let go of me, and I sat up on the bed, immediately feeling dizzy, black spots appearing before my eyes.
“Shit,” I cursed, putting a hand to my head and squeezing my eyes shut. For a few seconds, I was woozy, before my world finally straightened out, and my eyes snapped open again.
To my left, I felt the bed move, and looked over, only to find that Harry was sitting up as well. Damn it; things were about to get difficult. He looked at me confusedly, and I just shook my head, staring down at my lap, before scrambling over to the edge of the bed and standing up.
The sight of the mess before me was enough to make my eyes water all over again. I mentally face-palmed; I was crying yet again, in front of him. I was putting myself in yet another vulnerable position in his presence, and I hated it.
I turned to him, my eyes red. “You should go,” I said shakily, willing my voice not to crack on the last word.
“Cassidy,” Harry warned, moving to the edge of the bed, his feet slinging over to rest on the floor. Not wanting to hear it, I just shook my head again, looking down at the messy floor, and turned away.
“Go, please,” I told him, clearing my throat at the end, just so that it sounded a bit tougher than I felt. I could feel Harry’s intent gaze burning a hole into the side of my head, and I just faced my body away from him, so that my back was to him. I couldn’t deal with any of this right now.
“Fine,” Harry said tersely, and a moment later, a large hand wrapped around my arm.
I whipped around, my gaze landing on a broad chest, eventually drifting up. His eyes were blazing, his mouth pressed into a firm line, his hair dishevelled in the sexiest way.
It’s not sexy.
Yes it is.
“Fine,” he repeated in a clipped voice, “Just—,” he ran a hand through his hair, “Let me know when you’re done shutting the world out, okay?”
Without another word he spun around walking out of my room briskly and slamming the door. Clearly, he was angry at me. I crumpled onto the floor, little pieces of glass piercing my torso and my arms, and I finally let the tears free, unleashing them so that they poured down my face.
I wish he would’ve fought a little bit harder.
~*~
I couldn’t take this anymore. My body and mind literally felt as though it would spontaneously combust. I had so much pent up energy, so many nerves running through my body—along my spinal cord as though it was an electrical conductor—and I couldn’t stay still, couldn’t deal with the jitters, and I was done.
It had been a full fucking week since I’d seen him. I’d spent all of my time with Matt, of course, and had been over to the Jansens’ place, hoping that things would distract me, but nothing worked. Almost every hour of the day, I’d been thinking about him. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him; I hated him.
Things were so damn twisted, so messed up and wrong, I felt as though I could tear out my hair.
I couldn’t do this. I needed to see him.
No you don’t.
Yes, I do. I need to see him. I need to just let my gaze fall upon his curly hair, always pushed up over his forehead, his frosty green eyes, and his adorable dimple whenever he smiled. I needed to see his plump, rosy lips, and I quickly stopped myself before I could start fantasizing about how they would feel against my own.
This needs to stop. I’m going insane just wondering about things. Is he thinking about me?
I’m not supposed to care. I’m not supposed to care if he’s thinking about me or not, if he’s wondering exactly what I’m wondering, because I’m supposed to hate him.
But I can’t stop caring; it just won’t go away, a huge part of me that can’t help but to think about him no matter what.
What is happening to me? I don’t want to admit anything to myself, but I know that it’s too late. I’ve fallen for him.
No you haven’t.
Damn it, yes I have. I’ve fallen for him hard, and there’s nothing I can do about it. My brain won’t stop drifting back to moments I’ve spent with him, moments where I wish I could’ve done something differently, maybe been less of a bitch, so that we wouldn’t be in this very situation.
I’ve fallen and I can’t get back up. I like him.
I like him. The words feel so foreign, even as I simply think about them. I like him, the one person that I couldn’t stand. I would’ve thought that being away from him for a bit would’ve lessened my feelings, but they’ve only seemed to grow.
And it scares me so fucking much.
I don’t know what to do anymore. Things are just so messed up.
Maybe I should—
No. That’s a fucking stupid-ass idea. I don’t even know where I came up with it. Maybe I could—
Nope. That won’t work either. Fuck, what the hell is happening to me? I want to tear my hair out, I want to scream at the top of my lungs, I want to run over to him next door, kiss him and punch him at the exact same time!
I don’t like change. I don’t like topics or situations that I’m not familiar with, not knowing what’s just around the corner, what’s going to happen. But this is something completely new to me, and I can’t process the fact that I seem to have dug my own way so deep into the darkness that there is no more light.
There isn’t anything I can do about this; I’m too far in to make a change.
Things are about to get messy; I can just feel it. I have not been acquainted with these feelings before. I don’t know how to handle them, they’re foreign to me. I know that I’ll end up making some sort of mistake, something that’ll ruin everything, and I know that my first time doing so won’t end well.
I can’t think anymore. I can barely breathe as I imagine what he’s doing every second of the day; wondering if he’s doing the exact same thing, imagining about me. I hope that he is, but I can never be sure, and it fucking terrifies me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, as cliché as that sounds.
Because I never know what to expect with him. He can be adorably sweet at times, always laughing and smirking at me.
But there are other days where he wants to know things, he presses me for information, pushes me past my limit. Those are the days that are the worst, the days I snap at him, the days that we fight.
He tries to break my walls down, and when it seems as though he’s almost victorious, I’m there, building them back up again, stronger than ever.
But I don’t know if I can play that game anymore. It’s just so hard to constantly build the walls back up. I know that he’s there, he’s constantly there, but eventually he will get tired, eventually he will give up on me.
I don’t want that to happen. But at the same time, I don’t want to give in to him, I don’t want him to see past the façade I’ve put up, because that just puts me in a vulnerable and weak position, something I promised myself I’d let very, very few people see.
I need closure. And I know exactly where to find it.
I awoke the following morning, the sunlight hitting my eyelids forcefully. I blinked rapidly, trying to get my bearings, not remembering anything from the night before. My room was the exact same. I was warm, and I felt a slight pressure around my entire body.
I tried rolling onto my back, my eyes opening fully, and then gasped. Right in front of me was Harry.
He looked really cute. His eyes were closed lightly, his lips parted, his nostrils flaring in the most adorable way as he sucked in and dispelled air, making his entire body move. His whole body seemed to be shielding me from something, practically cocooning me, and I then realised that that was why I felt so warm.
“Oh my God,” I murmured, momentarily fearing the worst—we’d had sex, hadn’t we?
And then it all came rushing back to me, hitting me so hard that I felt as though my chest had constricted, and I fought to breathe. Matt had come back yesterday. The picture frame. A quiet, barely audible sob fell from my lips. I smacked my hand to my mouth, hoping that he hadn’t heard it.
Fuck.
His eyelids fluttered a few times before expanding open. He yawned, making the most adorable sound, and shook out his hair, one of his hand momentarily disappearing from my body to run through the curls and waves, before he settled it back down on my hip, unknowingly stroking the strip of skin visible above my bottoms.
A part of me ebbed at my brain to tell the rest of my body to move. I shouldn’t’ve been cuddled up in his arms here; it wasn’t how things were supposed to work. But his scent was like a drug to me; I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep, and simply nestled my head farther into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.
He froze, as though he had also just realised what had happened.
I couldn’t help but to smile lightly, but immediately kicked my brain for feeling that.
I’m not supposed to be happy right now; I’m enveloped in the arms of the boy I hate, yet it’s the boy that I can’t figure out, the boy that’s a mystery to me, messing up my head and my feelings and emotions.
But I feel so calm right now. This is a moment filled with calamity in my hectic life, and I want to enjoy it. So I pushed any contradicting thoughts out of my head, and simply sighed, snuggling a bit more into Harry’s embrace.
He seemed to realise that I was ‘asleep’, and he just fastened his arms a little bit more securely around me, clearing his throat lightly.
He placed his lips next to my ear, his hot breath running down the column of my throat, and it took all of my willpower not to squirm. I simply smiled gently into his chest.
He pressed a kiss to the side of my head, making my brow furrow; those same negative thoughts immediately clouded my mind again; littering the space in my head like a hazy fog.
He’s kissing me. This shouldn’t be happening right now.
But it feels so good.
Once again, I forced those thoughts out of my head as the feel of his lips moved. He pressed a feathery kiss to the shell of my ear, making me exhale quietly, trying not to sigh in pleasure. His lips continued their descent even further and he pressed them onto the spot right behind my head, parallel to my earlobe. I bit my tongue to keep myself from making noise.
He pulled back slightly, pressing a tender kiss to my temple. My eyes fluttered, but I don’t think he noticed. He moved a bit, planting another peck on my forehead, before kissing the tip of my nose, and each of my cheeks. Wherever his lips touched, I was on fire.
What am I doing?
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and then I remembered that I was supposed to be angry with him.
The shards of glass from the photo frame were probably still on the floor.
I shot away from him, fighting to get out of his grip. Surprised, he let go of me, and I sat up on the bed, immediately feeling dizzy, black spots appearing before my eyes.
“Shit,” I cursed, putting a hand to my head and squeezing my eyes shut. For a few seconds, I was woozy, before my world finally straightened out, and my eyes snapped open again.
To my left, I felt the bed move, and looked over, only to find that Harry was sitting up as well. Damn it; things were about to get difficult. He looked at me confusedly, and I just shook my head, staring down at my lap, before scrambling over to the edge of the bed and standing up.
The sight of the mess before me was enough to make my eyes water all over again. I mentally face-palmed; I was crying yet again, in front of him. I was putting myself in yet another vulnerable position in his presence, and I hated it.
I turned to him, my eyes red. “You should go,” I said shakily, willing my voice not to crack on the last word.
“Cassidy,” Harry warned, moving to the edge of the bed, his feet slinging over to rest on the floor. Not wanting to hear it, I just shook my head again, looking down at the messy floor, and turned away.
“Go, please,” I told him, clearing my throat at the end, just so that it sounded a bit tougher than I felt. I could feel Harry’s intent gaze burning a hole into the side of my head, and I just faced my body away from him, so that my back was to him. I couldn’t deal with any of this right now.
“Fine,” Harry said tersely, and a moment later, a large hand wrapped around my arm.
I whipped around, my gaze landing on a broad chest, eventually drifting up. His eyes were blazing, his mouth pressed into a firm line, his hair dishevelled in the sexiest way.
It’s not sexy.
Yes it is.
“Fine,” he repeated in a clipped voice, “Just—,” he ran a hand through his hair, “Let me know when you’re done shutting the world out, okay?”
Without another word he spun around walking out of my room briskly and slamming the door. Clearly, he was angry at me. I crumpled onto the floor, little pieces of glass piercing my torso and my arms, and I finally let the tears free, unleashing them so that they poured down my face.
I wish he would’ve fought a little bit harder.
~*~
I couldn’t take this anymore. My body and mind literally felt as though it would spontaneously combust. I had so much pent up energy, so many nerves running through my body—along my spinal cord as though it was an electrical conductor—and I couldn’t stay still, couldn’t deal with the jitters, and I was done.
It had been a full fucking week since I’d seen him. I’d spent all of my time with Matt, of course, and had been over to the Jansens’ place, hoping that things would distract me, but nothing worked. Almost every hour of the day, I’d been thinking about him. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him; I hated him.
Things were so damn twisted, so messed up and wrong, I felt as though I could tear out my hair.
I couldn’t do this. I needed to see him.
No you don’t.
Yes, I do. I need to see him. I need to just let my gaze fall upon his curly hair, always pushed up over his forehead, his frosty green eyes, and his adorable dimple whenever he smiled. I needed to see his plump, rosy lips, and I quickly stopped myself before I could start fantasizing about how they would feel against my own.
This needs to stop. I’m going insane just wondering about things. Is he thinking about me?
I’m not supposed to care. I’m not supposed to care if he’s thinking about me or not, if he’s wondering exactly what I’m wondering, because I’m supposed to hate him.
But I can’t stop caring; it just won’t go away, a huge part of me that can’t help but to think about him no matter what.
What is happening to me? I don’t want to admit anything to myself, but I know that it’s too late. I’ve fallen for him.
No you haven’t.
Damn it, yes I have. I’ve fallen for him hard, and there’s nothing I can do about it. My brain won’t stop drifting back to moments I’ve spent with him, moments where I wish I could’ve done something differently, maybe been less of a bitch, so that we wouldn’t be in this very situation.
I’ve fallen and I can’t get back up. I like him.
I like him. The words feel so foreign, even as I simply think about them. I like him, the one person that I couldn’t stand. I would’ve thought that being away from him for a bit would’ve lessened my feelings, but they’ve only seemed to grow.
And it scares me so fucking much.
I don’t know what to do anymore. Things are just so messed up.
Maybe I should—
No. That’s a fucking stupid-ass idea. I don’t even know where I came up with it. Maybe I could—
Nope. That won’t work either. Fuck, what the hell is happening to me? I want to tear my hair out, I want to scream at the top of my lungs, I want to run over to him next door, kiss him and punch him at the exact same time!
I don’t like change. I don’t like topics or situations that I’m not familiar with, not knowing what’s just around the corner, what’s going to happen. But this is something completely new to me, and I can’t process the fact that I seem to have dug my own way so deep into the darkness that there is no more light.
There isn’t anything I can do about this; I’m too far in to make a change.
Things are about to get messy; I can just feel it. I have not been acquainted with these feelings before. I don’t know how to handle them, they’re foreign to me. I know that I’ll end up making some sort of mistake, something that’ll ruin everything, and I know that my first time doing so won’t end well.
I can’t think anymore. I can barely breathe as I imagine what he’s doing every second of the day; wondering if he’s doing the exact same thing, imagining about me. I hope that he is, but I can never be sure, and it fucking terrifies me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, as cliché as that sounds.
Because I never know what to expect with him. He can be adorably sweet at times, always laughing and smirking at me.
But there are other days where he wants to know things, he presses me for information, pushes me past my limit. Those are the days that are the worst, the days I snap at him, the days that we fight.
He tries to break my walls down, and when it seems as though he’s almost victorious, I’m there, building them back up again, stronger than ever.
But I don’t know if I can play that game anymore. It’s just so hard to constantly build the walls back up. I know that he’s there, he’s constantly there, but eventually he will get tired, eventually he will give up on me.
I don’t want that to happen. But at the same time, I don’t want to give in to him, I don’t want him to see past the façade I’ve put up, because that just puts me in a vulnerable and weak position, something I promised myself I’d let very, very few people see.
I need closure. And I know exactly where to find it.
Notes
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10/25/15