It was unusually cold outside and I was dressed in layer-ups as I walked with a fast pace through the neighborhood. White limestone plastered houses with low wooden doors and windows decorated with lace curtains and beautiful art objects, quite close to the curb. Some were fused with the high and thick walls that surrounded the houses. The whole city was covered in a thick layer of snow.

My mother still doesn’t know about me and Harry, I didn’t tell her anything. I shouldn’t leave her thinking that me and Harry are still together since I’m pretty sure she’ll mention him a lot during the time she’s not aware of it. My conscience tells me that I should tell her all about this as soon as I possibly can, but for now… I don’t feel ready enough. I need a few more days to absorb.

I felt my breathing getting heavier as the steam made out of my breath got thicker. The nervousness increased although it shouldn’t since I had been practicing the up-coming conversation with Christopher in my head during the last hour.
I would simply begin by asking him how he was doing, and then I would just quickly grab my bag and phone to go straight back home.
Of course I felt really bad for him, but at the same time I didn’t want to hear him speak one word about Harry. I had enough of him, and I had the feeling like I couldn’t handle someone else’s pain and anger since I could barely handle my very own.

I was finally standing on his staircase, staring into the door while waiting for him to open it up. I was about to ring the doorbell once more as the door flew wide open. My stomach turned immediately when I saw Christopher standing on the other side.

Harry had left traces all over his face. Both his lower and upper lip had a scab, disturbing his usually perfectly pink lip mold. His left cheek was covered in a bruise as the skin surrounding his right eye was a lot darker than the rest.
I almost threw my arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, without giving it a second thought.
I quietly told him about how sorry I was for him going through this.

My tears had finally stopped streaming down my face about twenty minutes ago, but now they were almost screaming and begging to come out and to show themselves again.

This was my entire fault, and I knew that there was no way that the scabs and bruises would heal until Thursday.
I just… I can’t believe that he got dragged into this. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t do anything wrong.
It felt like I had been discussing this with myself a thousand times during the past twenty four hours.

He responded with a chuckle, making me feel slightly shocked and upset. This was nothing worth laughing about.
“Stop,” my voice broke off at the end.
“Sarah, it’s cool” he gently grasped my shoulders and pulled me away, only to look straight into my eyes with a friendly smile, making the scab on his lips stretch out. It looked really painful.
“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t be cool about it” I was almost feeling angry. Angry with him for letting it go. Saying that it’s cool and forgiving Harry like that.

“I’m not. Trust me. I seriously somehow feel like wanting to search for him only to kick his balls off and cut his throat.” He told me with a shrug as he avoided my gaze. He made it sound like there was nothing special about it.
Search for him to kick his balls off and cut his throat? I never in a million years thought Christopher was anything that brutal.

“Although I’ve only known you for about a couple of months, it feels like I’ve known you for my entire life. I would do anything for you Sarah, you should know that. It's pretty clear to me that he's taking you for granted, and he shouldn't.” Our gazes met as my whole body felt a couple of celsius warmer and I couldn’t help but smile.
This wasn’t about Harry beating him up anymore. It was about him feeling sorry for me.

I didn’t know if I should've been angry or touched by his words. The fact that he somehow chooses my health in front of his own makes me both scared and fluttered at the same time.

“Come on in, it’s freezing outside,” he backed away from the front door as he made a gesture with his arm towards warm inside.
I nodded as I joined him into the warmth.

I quickly reacted on how vintage decorative his hous was.
There was a thick bouquet of red roses standing on a small table in light pink a few feet away.
The beige-patterned walls were filled with various paintings, most with old black and white pictures. The dark wooden floor was partly covered by a white carpet, as all the furniture in the hall was in bright and refreshing shades, some furniture even had been polished a little bit, just to create an old-fashioned feel.

I took off my shoes and placed them on their shoe-rack as I then hung my jacket on one of the golden colored hooks while he went further into his house.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I heard him ask from another room.
“Um… No, but thank you,” I was nervous. Really nervous.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,”
He walked around the corner of the hall as he walked towards me with my phone in his hand.
“No water, no orange juice, no nothing?”
I shoke my head.
“Well, your phone was ringing all night, until I eventually was forced to turn it off in order to be able to sleep. I hope it’s okay with you.”
“Oh yeah, of course,” I replied friendly.

He handed me my phone and I quickly turned it on. While waiting for it to load, we started talking about Thursday and the big show. The amount of nervousness about different steps and pirouettes, and not to mention the big last jump, but we soon got interrupted by my lagging phone. It vibrated at least ten times in a row as the display was blinking white. Once it stopped, I read that I had 24 unread messages and 16 missed calls. They were all from Harry.