AN (oct 8/22): just want to say a HUGE THANK YOU FOR 10-FREAKING-K!!!!!! i can't believe it. there's still lots of this story left to tell so I hope you all stick around <3 

as always, if you have any questions, wanna chat, or just say hi, hit me up on twitter (@  normiesandwich) or tiktok for edits/chapter teasers (@  normalsandwich69)

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053. POOLSIDE // FAINT

Rory never thought she would be face-to-face with a dead girl. There was a first time for everything.

"What's wrong, little Ro? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Juliet laughed - a sound that was sweet like honey. "Oh, you poor thing. You look frightened! Don't be scared!"

Juliet was shielded by a golden aura, making it impossible for Rory to make out any of her features. In fact, her golden glow shined so brightly that it forced Rory to squint her eyes. "Are-are you real?"

"Am I real?" Juliet repeated. "Why would you ask such a silly thing? I thought you were a smart girl." Her hand reached forward, twirling a piece of Rory's hair around her finger. "Such a pretty thing, aren't you? I can tell why he likes you... and you're such a good distraction for him."

"Distraction?"

"From me!" Her head cocked to the side. "Oh, Ro... did you really think he would ever get over me?"

Rory always felt it in her heart to be true - that Harry would never get over her. But hearing it from her mouth was far more painful than Rory had ever imagined.

"We're opposites, Ro. That's how it's always going to be." Spotting a pair of saddened doe-eyes, Juliet pouted her bottom lip and added, "I'm the girl he's willing to die for. You're the girl he's willing to let die."

Facing the water, her attention fixated on the blue in front of her. But it quickly became impossible to do so as a string tied its way around Rory's lungs, constricting each breath she tried to take. Her hands were slick with a sheer layer of sweat, and her body felt so light that she thought a single gust of wind could send her tumbling over.

"You should escape," Juliet whispered from behind.

"H-how?"

"Jump!"

Jump!

A hand went to her shoulder, "It's your only way out."

Toes curling over the edge, Rory nodded in agreement. Juliet was right. Rory believed it. It was so easy for the poor Bambi to believe her. Her voice was so kind and genuine. Juliet would never steer her wrong. Juliet was a golden angel. An angel that would never cause her harm. Right? Why would Juliet want to hurt her?

"Jump," Rory whispered, "It's my only way out."

"Don't do it, Aurora," her father's voice warned.

"Stop it," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Rory-"

Rory tore her eyes away from the water. "No! I need to get out!"

"Listen to me, Peanut. Just step away from the edge and-"

"Jump, Rory!"

"Don't-"

Be free, Ro!

"Escape!"

Come for a swim!

"Step back! It's not your time!"

"STOP IT!"

Rory squeezed her eyes shut as her hands tangled in her hair and pulled on the strands. "I... I need..." Her mouth ran dry. The sound of her breathing was heavy and forced - becoming more of a chore than a necessity for survival. "You're not real. You're not real. You're not fucking real!"

"Rory?"

"Get out of my head!"

"Rory?"

The girl blinked.

The voice wasn't calling her name.

Juliet wasn't calling her name.

Her Dad wasn't calling her name.

And she wasn't standing at the edge of the pool, contemplating what it would be like to sink to the bottom. Sitting on her favourite bench yards away, Rory was nowhere near the pool.

"Rory?"

Her head turned, looking over her shoulder, eyes landing on the last person she wanted to see.

Harry.

She forced a smile. "Hi."

"Hi," he repeated, somewhat cautiously. "Enjoying your night?"

"Yes. It's peaceful." Ignoring the bile that crept up her throat, her attention moved away from him and to the view in front. "Is there a pool here?"

"A pool? No. Why?"

No pool? But I was standing right... her thoughts trailed off as she stared into the distance, looking precisely at the spot she pictured herself standing only moments ago. What the fuck is happening to me?

It was nearly impossible for the poor girl to ignore how her heart raced - not due to Harry, of course. But because her mind couldn't comprehend what she had just seen and felt.

Everything felt and sounded so real.

And yet she couldn't tell anyone what she saw.

She could only sit there, pretending her head didn't pound with an indescribable pain or that her palms were slick with sweat. The only thing the poor Bambi could do was spiral further into her pool of insanity.

"Rory?"

Her breath hitched. "Just wondering," she meekly managed to respond.

"Right..." Harry followed her glance, trying to understand what she found so riveting by the view - it was impossible to see anything at night. "We're watching a movie-"

"How normal of you," Rory sarcastically muttered under her breath.

Harry arched his brow. "What was that?"

"I said that must be nice for you." She looked over her shoulder. "You seemed stressed this morning. It must be nice to have a night off."

"I wasn't stressed."

"You weren't?" Rory faked innocence in her tone as her head cocked slightly to the side. "Oh. My bad. I guess it's been a while since we've been around each other. I forgot what your usual... expressions looked like."

His jaw tensed at her remark. "Would you like to join us?"

"No. But, thank you for the invitation."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"I don't have to stay if it's because of me."

Rory turned her head. "It's not because of you, Harry," she half-lied. "I'm just enjoying myself."

Harry only responded with a slight nod and mumbled something that vaguely sounded like a goodbye before heading back to the house.

That would have been the perfect opportunity to let Harry walk off. But the voices were still prevalent in the back of her mind, telling her he knew something was wrong - that something wasn't right with her.

She was fine. Rory was fine. There was no pool and no place to jump.

And there especially was no Juliet ready to push her off the edge.

Everything was fine.

But sometimes, Rory just couldn't keep her mouth shut. Even if the voices were wrong, she couldn't let Harry walk off, thinking he was on to her.

"I'm fine, by the way," she called out after him.

Harry stopped and turned around, staring at the girl with a raised brow.

"You keep asking everyone how I'm doing," she explained. "I'm fine. There you go. You can stop asking now."

There was a long silence as Harry ran a hand over his chin, scratching the stubble left from his apparent lack of shaving. "You may have the others fooled, but not me."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I know you." He stepped back towards the bench where she sat. "I know you're not okay, Rory. And you don't need to be ashamed-"

"I'm not ashamed," she sneered.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." Suddenly no longer finding her view peaceful, Rory stood from her spot. "And for the record, don't act like you, of all people fucking know me."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I can read you like a book, Bambi."

"You fucking wish," she muttered, turning on her heels to head back inside.

"I know you lie to Doctor Khan every morning on your report," he called out, forcing her body to come to a complete stop. "I know you spend more time out here staring at nothing than you do anything else. I know you cry yourself to sleep every night. I know you've been talking to your Dad,"

Rory dug her nails into the palm of her hands, stabbing the already wounded and raw flesh. She flinched at the pain, but a part of her savoured the feeling.

"I hear you calling out for him, begging him to answer you."

Her eyes narrowed, watching as he slowly stalked towards her. "Wow... great detective work. Tell me, did you learn to hold a cup to a wall to eavesdrop on me in that online how-to-be-a-criminal course you took? Or did you learn that all on your own like a big boy?"

Ignoring her sarcastic remarks, Harry took a final step towards her, leaving minimal distance. "And I know you fake that fucking smile every chance you get."

"I'm surprised you even know what a smile is, considering you wear a permanent scowl."

"Trust me, sweetheart. I know what it's like when you smile." Harry reached his hand forward to grip her chin. Dipping his head forward, his voice dropped to a husky whisper, "You have no idea what your smile does to me, Rory."

Her lips parted, and her brow slightly furrowed as she stared at him with widened eyes. Hearing him say such a thing caught her off guard. And right now, the last thing she needed was to show him a vulnerability like being off guard.

Don't be an idiot, Ro, the voice in her head sneered. He's playing you for a fool.

"It hurts..." he said softly, guiding his thumb across her bottom lip, "It hurts knowing you're not okay. It fucking pains me, Rory."

Does he mean the pain he caused? Give me a fucking break.

The second she felt the tears start to press against the floodgates, Rory knew she couldn't let him see it; he couldn't see the effect he had on her. Pushing his hand away, Rory stepped back, creating a much-needed distance between them.

Shaking her head in disbelief, the only thing Rory could say was to finally admit, "Of course, I'm not fucking okay."

"Then why aren't you being honest?"

"Because I want to leave!" she said, hearing the anger in her voice rise with every passing second. "And if you knew me so well, you would know I hate this. I hate being stuck in a house in the middle of fucking nowhere without knowing where I am or why I'm here. I hate that I get fucking injured, and no one will tell me what really happened to me." Rory looked down at his hand, eyeing the mark on his ring finger. "And I really hate that fucking tattoo."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. It's stupid."

"That's not very nice." Harry glanced down at the ink. "It's in honour of you. I think the artist did a nice job."

"Yeah, well, good thing finger tattoos can fade fast. Soon you will be able to replace it with the next Bambi's initial whose life you decide to fuck up."

"Is that what you think I've done? You think I've fucked up your life?"

A dark laugh of disbelief escaped her. "Oh, I'm sorry. How could I think you've fucked up my life when you've given me... this!" Rory motioned to the house. "You've given me everything I've dreamed of since I was a little girl! I always wanted to wake up and not know where I was... and find out I'm locked in a house in the middle of fucking nowhere with a Doctor I don't know!"

"You have someone caring over you and security protecting you twenty-four-seven—a roof over your head. Meals whenever you want them. A comfortable bed to sleep in." Harry shrugged. "I don't see what's so fucked up about that. You sound ungrateful."

"Ungrateful?" Rory spat in disbelief. She stepped towards him, pointing her finger as she yelled, "You! You are what is so fucked up about it!" Her breath was rapid, nostrils flaring as she screamed. Any sense of hiding her genuine emotions vanished. "I've never dreamed more about dying than I have the past couple of days, but unfortunately, I can't make my dreams come true. Because for some fucked up reason, I'm supposed to wake up, spend my day being gaslighted, and then go to bed to repeat the same thing all over again!"

Her body swayed, but she forced herself to ignore it.

"Don't you fucking stand there and call me ungrateful!" she continued, "I spend every fucking day being gaslit. I'm forced to hear this fake story that people broke into my apartment for valuable things, and this mark," Rory held up her bandaged arm, "was because I tried fighting them back, yet, I'm not allowed to see the damage they did. I get told the puncture wound on my neck isn't really there and that I don't hear you yelling about how I'm dead! So if you-"

Harry's eyes softened. "Are you okay-"

"Don't interrupt me!" Rory shouted, fighting the urge to acknowledge how flushed her skin felt. "So if you want to keep gaslighting me, go right fucking ahead. Call me ungrateful. Say I should be ashamed for not appreciating this trapped life you've created for me! Make me think I'm in the wrong for wanting to escape and die. But watch your fucking back, Harry. Because if you want to keep gaslighting me, I will set you on fire."

The second the last word left her lips, Rory fell silent, stumbling back on her feet. She felt light as a feather from head to toe. Before her body could collapse to the ground, something grabbed hold of her, keeping her upright. Her vision went blurry. No sound made its way to her ears, silenced by a ringing noise.

When her vision returned, it took Rory a moment to process everything. A silent groan of displeasure desperately wanted to be released from her mouth. Her body was being carried bridal style by none other than the man she hated.

"What's happening?"

Harry looked down at her briefly before returning his gaze ahead. "I'm taking you back to your room."

"Why?"

"Because you almost fainted, Rory."

"Oh," was all she managed to reply with, resting her head against his chest.

The guard opened the door when they drew close, and the two entered the bedroom. Rory wondered if Harry had ever seen the inside of these four walls before. Did he ever come in while she was unconscious? Had he been to this house before? Did he have his own bedroom, or did he sleep outside her door in the hallway every night?

"I should call Doctor Khan and-"

"No!" Rory grabbed his wrist. "I'm fine. I'm just exhausted and need some rest."

"Rory," his voice warned.

"I'm fine," she repeated. "And I don't want to ruin her night."

"She's your Doctor. This is her job."

"Please, Harry," she whispered, pleading with him.

"Then I'm getting your night nurse-"

Rory tightened her grip on his wrist. "No!"

"Rory-"

"I don't like her. She's mean."

Harry's eyes narrowed as he slowly repeated, "She's... mean?"

"She's not kinda and warm like Doctor Khan and... I don't feel comfortable with her." Licking her lips, she noticed his attention drawn to her simple action. "Please, Harry. I'm fine. I don't need either of them."

Rory noticed his expression softened, and his glance shifted back and forth from her eyes to her lips.

Rory thought she had him.

There was a sense of pride she always felt when she could grasp hold of a man's mind and force them under her spell. Countless times she had done it to suckers in the bar. And for that brief moment, she thought Harry was just like them.

But as if he read her mind, he snapped himself out of the trance within a second.

And without a response or a sound, Harry got up from his spot and left the room.

Her heart sank, taking his action to mean that he would be calling Doctor Khan. Rory didn't want to interrupt the Doctor's night and knew hearing a fainting incident almost occurred would send the woman right back to the house.

Rory was surprised to see Harry return to her bedroom with a small towel in his hand. He didn't speak - walking silently into the bathroom. She could hear running water followed by the sounds of him quietly humming the tune of Jolene to himself.

Turning off the bathroom light, Harry made his way to her side and sat on the edge. Noting her puzzled expression, he said, "A cold cloth."

"Did you call her?"

He placed the neatly folded towel on her forehead. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because you asked me not to." The tone of voice sounded slightly alarmed. "Did you forget that?"

Shaking her head, Rory quickly said, "No. I remember. I'm just surprised you listened to me, that's all."

"Does that feel alright?" Harry motioned to the towel. "It's what the textbook said to do."

"Textbook?"

Harry nodded. "You like reading them, so I got a few for myself."

While he appeared calm and casual about the comment, Rory did everything she could to keep her emotions contained. It was just a textbook. And yet her heart wanted to leap right out of her chest.

"Well, it feels nice."

"Give me your hand."

"Why?"

He sighed, uttering her name in a warning tone, "Rory."

Hesitantly, she overturned her hands, exposing the wounds she had carved into her flesh. Harry dug out a few items from his pants pocket and rested them on the bed. His eyes quickly scanned the marks on her skin before he picked up the first item.

Placing the small packet between his teeth to tear it open, Harry pulled out a small alcohol wipe and asked, "Are you going to tell me what made you do that?"

"Are you going to tell me why I'm stuck here?"

His lips parted to speak - yet as soon as they did, he pressed them back together, swallowing whatever words he wanted to utter. The wipe pressed gently against her skin, cleaning the self-inflicted wounds. It greatly pained her, but she didn't show it - not even a single flinch. There was something in her that liked the pain; she craved it.

Besides, her mind was far too consumed by Harry's presence. Forced to sit in silence, Rory shifted her gaze off from watching him apply ointment to her skin and allowed her eyes to roam over his appearance. It had been a while since the two had been alone like this, so close in proximity.

Her chest clenched over how he acted - the way he cared for and treated her with such a delicate touch. It would have been easy for her to give in, kiss him and pretend as if nothing awful ever happened between them. If she wanted, she could make herself forget about all the hurt he caused her - force it into hiding and bury it far down with everything else she made herself forget.

Rory couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if they were normal. Could they have the white picket fence life together? Would they get married and have kids? Would he have a typical job at the local bank or as a teacher? Would she become a stay-at-home mother?

Would they be the love story their kids would talk about? Model their own desires for love after?

It was so easy to picture - so easy for her to believe it was possible; it slowly became something she thought she might want.

She couldn't let herself think she could have that - or deserve it. Besides, it's not like she even wanted that kind of life in the first place. Right?

Especially not when she was stuck here.

She couldn't play pretend if there was nothing to provide distraction.

But seven words spoken by the devil in front of her tested her faith,

"I will get you out of here."

"Don't say that if you don't mean it."

Reaching his hand forward, he cupped her cheek. The two fell silent, only for a few brief moments, allowing the sounds of their equally nervous breaths to fill the room.

Rory loathed how such a simple gesture caused her heart to skip a beat. Not literally, of course.

His touch was familiar - comforting.

It made her miss him. It made her miss what they were - what they had.

And as the pad of his thumb delicately grazed her skin, soft as a feather with its touch, she felt it move to her bottom lip.

One small flicker of his glance from her eyes to her lips did something to her heart. It didn't metaphorically skip a beat this time; it felt like it completely stopped.

While one hand made her feel all sorts of things with his touch, his other rested on the bed. Her hand inched forward along the sheets towards his, and she traced the 'R' inked on his ring finger.

Something made her want to touch it. Maybe she felt bad for calling it stupid. Or perhaps, deep down, she wished they could still be that word Harry called them.

Permanent.

If they couldn't be permanent, at least the mark on his skin would be.

"I'm not just saying it," he affirmed. "I'll find a way to get you out of here, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered.

Rory hated him. No one else in the world she truly despised more than Harry. He constantly made her feel emotions she never knew she had or could ever feel. Just when her heart became his, Harry did something to ruin it. It seemed so easy for him to hurt her. And so, to protect herself and her heart, she decided to hate him.

Rory hated Harry.

But no matter how much anger burned in her heart for him, that didn't stop Rory from asking, "Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Without hesitation, he nodded. "Of course."

As Harry disposed of the bandaid wrappers and used alcohol wipes, Rory turned down the other side of the bed - she wanted him to know exactly where she needed him tonight. If momentarily forgetting about all the hurt was what she needed for one night of rest, forgetting was exactly what she planned on doing.

Rory rested her head against the pillow, watching as he exited the bathroom and turned off the lights. He crossed to the other side of the room, checking the lock for the outside door and drew the curtains shut.

By the time he was settled in bed, lying next to her, Rory could not hide the one thing she had been forcing all day; a genuine smile.

Harry met her glance. "Comfortable?"

She nodded.

He let a moment of silence linger before patting his chest and softly saying, "Come here."

Rory was aware of what trouble the small gesture would cause. However, she was already in deep trouble thinking about the entire night. Her lies had been exposed and torn apart; her vulnerability showed in full force. Harry now had the power to hang many things over her - especially by telling Doctor Khan she had been lying about her wellbeing.

What would snuggling in bed really do in comparison to everything else?

Besides, she had already convinced herself to forget about her pain.

With the battle in her mind easily solved, Rory moved her body closer to his, resting her head on his chest.

"This doesn't change anything between us," she whispered.

"I know."

If Rory were a fool, she would have believed the hint of sadness in his voice was real. A part of her did. But she knew that forgetting about her pain would soon come to an end. And so, she couldn't trust that there was anything real behind the pain in his voice.

At least the way his fingers danced across her back in circular motions helped dull the future heartbreak that she knew was inevitable.

"I need to tell Benny and Mia that I'm not dead."

The movements of his touch halted for a brief moment. "I already took care of that."

"Meaning?"

"I let them know you wouldn't be able to contact them for a while because we were taking all our employees on a surprise team-building trip. And I invited you to try and convince you to come back to work for me."

Rory snorted. "And they believed that?"

"Well, Colson took the lead telling Mia and-"

Rolling her eyes, Rory could assume the story's end. "She melted in front of him like a stick of butter."

"Pretty much."

She couldn't see it from her current position, but Rory felt a smile behind his words.

"I'm sorry for almost fainting."

"Don't apologize. We all say things in the heat of the moment."

Rory lifted her head. "Oh, I'm not sorry for yelling at you. I still stand behind everything I said out there."

"Noted," he replied flatly.

She licked her lips. "Can I ask you something?" Without waiting for a response (assuming she wouldn't like his answer anyway), Rory asked, "Do you still want to kill me?"

"Does that possibility scare you?"

Rory shook her head.

"It should."

"Lots of things should scare me... but they don't. A fake criminal like you is hardly something I should be afraid of."

Harry tried to remain neutral, but Rory could see a smile tugging on his lips. She liked it when he smiled. And seeing his dimple, just like it was appearing now, always felt like a small reward. Rory wanted to hate him, but sometimes it felt like an impossibly daunting task.

Noticing she wasn't lying back down, he asked, "Is there something else on your mind?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Releasing a sigh, he answered her honestly, "In short, no. But my life would be a hell of a lot easier if I did."

"That makes two of us." Her head rested against his chest once again. "Can I ask you something else?"

"I don't think it would stop you if I said no."

He's right.

"Would you kill for me?"

There was a beat of silence before he uttered the three most romantic words Rory had ever heard,

"I already have."

!!!! ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU FOR 10K I CAN'T BELIEVE IT !!!!