I feel burning hot rage flaring in my veins along with the familiar intense ache in my chest. My breathing ragged—my chest heaving to the point where I feel like I can’t breath. I storm into the bathroom aggressively pushing everything in my sight onto the floor. My reflection in the mirror is exactly what I thought it would be—exactly what I never wanted to be but inevitably turned into. My cheeks are red, my brows are furrowed into a tight line. My whole body is shaking, seething with anger.

Something inside of me snaps and my fist collides with the mirror, the glass shatters all over the countertop. There’s shards in my knuckles causing my crimson blood to trickle down my arm from my hand.

“Harry? What the fuck is going on?” I hear you call out from outside of the bathroom.

I ignore you.

Knowing you’ve heard my destruction only serves more indescribable anger aimed towards myself to run through my body. My immediate reaction is to punch the cabinet above our bathroom countertop. The wooden cabinet snaps, leaving half of it discarded on the bathroom floor. I let out something between a wince and a groan when pain shoots through my already injured knuckles. My vision is hazy, nothing feels real—the anger has completely consumed me.

I’m about to slam my fist in the wall but then I hear the bathroom door swing open causing me to whip my head around. It’s you. Of course it’s you.

You gasp.

Your eyes rake over me and the destruction in the bathroom. “Harry what the fuck?!”

You take a step towards me.

“Do not fucking touch me.” I growl.