Lifeline (Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Epilogue

{Epilogue}

"When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time - the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes - when there's a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she's gone, forever - there comes another day, and another specifically missing part."

- John Irving

-

She had asked him once, what heaven was.

It was the day they had sat in that shabby diner in downtown London, pretending the food was just as great as it was at Angel's as they spoke quietly amongst themselves. Her eyes had been full of curiosity and wonder and even though Harry's answer had been truthful, he realized that it wasn't the answer she was looking for.

She wanted to know what happened, where she went and what she'd be doing. It was something they spoke of frequently at the funeral, as Harry shoved his hands deep inside his pockets as faces he didn't know spoke words that he didn't understand. They spoke of all the people who'd be there to greet her on the way in and how she was in a better place.

He wondered what she'd say if she saw all these people, up at the podium, speaking about her as if they were all there for her last moment of life. She'd probably snort, he thought with a smirk, and she'd make a comment on how they had pre-written the speech and practiced it in front of the mirror over and over again before the funeral.

It was someone after another, all talking about her like they knew her inside and out but he had seen none of these people around for her when she needed them most.

They had asked him to speak, but he declined.

He didn't want to talk about it, because he knew his words couldn't do her justice.

He couldn't explain to a group of uninterested, angst ridden people about the time she laughed so hard chocolate milk came out of her nose, or how-when the sun hit her eyes at just the right angle, her chocolate orbs almost looked orange.

He couldn't describe her, because no words could do her justice.

There were no words in the English Dictionary that could describe how beautiful, warm hearted and fun she was.

So he stayed quiet until the end, and waited just long enough until everyone left the cemetery and he stood alone in front of a stone in the ground that readKatelyn Dessing 1994-2012. He was nervous, glancing down at this rock. He hadn't known what to say, whether he should have said something or not or simply dropped the daisies in his hand onto of the patch of grass.

Now, Harry stood in front of something that seemed a lot less terrifying than a simple rock in the ground with a few words written across it. His fingers didn't tremble, his chest didn't ache and his eyes didn't water as he stood in front of it. It- being the crowd of people who waited for him to go on.

Just as he had at the funeral, he felt like he couldn't speak of her in front of all these people. Simply because his words could do her no justice.

His fingers fiddled with the strings on the guitar, feeling them as though he had to remind himself what to do. He hadn't done this in so long, he was almost scared he'd forget.

The rest of the boys were off on side stage, all watching him with careful but sad eyes.

The crowd was silent. An eery silent, but somehow comforting. He had never seen such a mellow and patient crowd before as everyone looked at him with patient and awaiting eyes.