witness || h.s.|| ON HOLD

twenty-five || you burn me

the song for this chapter is New Person, Same Old Mistakes, by Tame Impala 

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Man, I know that it's hard to digest
But baby this story ain't so different from the rest
And I know it seems wrong to accept
But you've got your demons, and she's got her regrets
And I know that it's hard to digest
A realization is as good as it gets
And I know it seems hard to accept
But you've got your demons, and she's got her regrets
But you've got your demons, and she's got her regrets

***********

Harry

   Tate was still asleep when I pulled up to the hotel I had picked for us to stay in tonight. I looked over at her and felt the pain and anguish all over again. 

  The marks on her neck, the welts on her face...the torn up shirt that I tried to hide under my own. Thoughts about what could have happened if I hadn't gotten there in time had haunted me the entire drive, and I don't know if they'd ever stop.

  I'll never forget the sound of her screams for as long as I lived. They traveled through the park, each echo of more painful to hear than the last. I was sprinting like a madman throughout the park, trying to follow the blood-curdling screams to their source. I think that was one of the worst parts of it...not being able to find her for that long, but knowing that with each minute that passed, more agony was brought upon her. 

   I hated that I lost control the way I did in front of her. Everything became a blur of rain and blood as I unleashed all of my anger on the man who attacked Tate. Even after I had shot him, after he was dead, it was like I wanted him to feel pain even in the afterlife. 

   But Tate's face when she looked at me...she looked so scared. All I had wanted to do was make her feel safe, and yet I managed to put the same fear in her eyes as her attacker did. 

   I parked the car and leaned over to gently shake her shoulder. Apparently, I wasn't gently enough. Tate immediately shot up and started breathing heavily, panic flashing across her face as she tried to figure out where she was, lightly reaching up to touch her throat.

    "Tate, you're okay. You're okay," I whispered, calming her down. 

Her breathing began to steady itself, and she closed her eyes as she settled down.

"I'm sorry...I...I just..." she trailed off.

She didn't have to say anything for me to understand what she meant.

"I know."

  I looked at the marks on her face and throat and realized I should probably get something for her to wear to cover them so that when we checked in, the hotel workers wouldn't think that I was the one who had given them to her. I would hate for anyone to think that I would hurt Tate, especially her. 

   "We're at the hotel. I'm going to get a hoodie out of my bag for you so that you can..." I trailed off, not wanting to finish my sentence.

"So that I can cover up the bruises on my face and neck so people don't think you are a psychopath? Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but...you kind of are," She spoke. My heart dropped at her words for a moment, until I noticed the small smile growing on her face. I chuckled lightly, before getting out of the car and opening to back door, rummaging around in my duffle bag until I found a hoodie.

   I tossed it to her and she slipped it on, pulling up the hood and tightening the drawstrings slightly, pulling some pieces of hair out around her face to further hide any marks.