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The first thing he noticed when he woke up was how soft the sheets were. He didn't remember buying them, but he smiled and snuggled even more.
¨Keep resting.¨ Hartley opened his eyes and shot himself up. He saw Harrison in front of the mirror, putting on his black shirt and smiling at him. ¨If you leave, you know where the keys are.¨
Last night's memories flashed through his mind. His sister's frightened look kept haunting him, and it didn't seem like it would stop doing it any time soon.
The warm bath helped relaxing his muscles, but the tension on his shoulders wouldn't leave. It was when he looked at himself on the mirror that the guilt for everything he'd done with Wells started to penetrate deep. It hurt. He couldn't even meet his own eyes. He was mad at himself. How could he do that to Len? He had been one of the few people who loved him, and he cheated on him. He played with his feelings. He was an idiot, a bastard...He didn't deserve him. Hartley punched the wall next to the mirror sevaral times, until he couldn't feel his fingers.
---
He couldn't stop crying. He was walking on the street and people looked at him, but he didn't care. He earned everything Leonard said to him. Why had he done it? Why hadn't he told Harrison to take him to Len's flat? Because he had felt so miserable, he didn't think he could feel worse. But, like so many other times, he was mistaken. And there he was, wanting to disappear from the face of the Earth. Wishing he had never entered Leonard's life, only to not cause him pain.
Rain started pouring down, irony not lost on Hartley. It wasn't the first time he did something like that. He had this pathological need to hurt people who cared about him. His psychologists had told him it was because he didn't love himself, but he wasn't so sure. Yes, he hated himself, but he simply believed it was because he wasn't a good person. A lot of people had told him that to his face, and even a lot more whispered it behind his back. He was toxic. The first time he was told he was evil was when he was nine years old. He had been playing with a friend, and he broke a toy. Of course, he blamed the other kid, Robert, who started crying. The teacher reprimanded him, while Hartley tried to look as innocent as he could. When the kid stopped crying, he wiped his tears and whispered ¨You're bad...¨. He just smiled, after all, it was like his father said: ¨Those who can't lie are weak. Society should step on them.¨
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The walk had been long, but he didn't notice most of it. He was totally soaked, even his socks were wet. Rain had stopped, but the cloud were still there, dark and heavy, threatening to pour down again.
Hartley wiped his tears, trying not to rub his eyes, and cleared his throat. He rang the bell and waited. When the door opened, he said:
¨Can I come in?¨
¨Of course.¨ Harrison smirked and stepped aside.
Why? Maybe the easiest and most correct answer was because he could, because he was selfish. He had always been, and always will be, selfish.