Possession [H.S] ✓

Chapter Twenty-Six

"I found myself the moment I found you, and I'm petrified that if you stop seeing the beautiful in me then I'll stop seeing it too."

(Submitted and written by: @1D_COME_IN_1D)

Layla.

The sky above me matched my mood; some parts of it was cloudy and dark while others were clear and blue. I was in the in between, and slightly on edge. Being alone with someone I'd only met once did little to help me feel better, however, I was grateful that I was with Niall and not Zayn. Something told me that if I was with the latter then I'd probably be dead right now.

"Do you know exactly what you're wanting out of here?" Niall asked as he guided me into the large blue crate. It was chilly, and I started to move closer to him before realizing that his skin was colder than the actual room.

I bit my lip slightly, and glanced around at the various items that were scattered around. Harry has a lot of junk, I thought humorously to myself. "No, not really. I just want a few things, not much," I said, and silently prayed that I would find my journal before he did. I didn't want him looking through it and reading my most private thoughts.

He nodded slightly, and turned a corner, tugging me with me. He stopped in front of a larger white container near the back corner, and pulled the door open, then gestured for me to walk in first. "After you," He politely said.

I smiled a bit at him as a thank you, then slowly walked inside. My breath was caught in my throat as I looked around, memories clouding my mind my entire bedroom was almost completely recreated in this smaller space. "Wow," I whispered.

Niall chuckled as he closed the door, and came to stand beside me. "Were you expecting everything to be in boxes?"

I nodded slightly, and bit my lip. "Yeah, I didn't expect an actual recreation."

"It makes things easier to find though, yeah?"

I nodded again, and slowly walked over to my bed, letting my fingers run over the soft comforter that I had coveted years ago. I smiled sadly, and remembered all of those times that Damaris and I would just sit on it, and talk about random things. Those memories felt as if they belonged to someone else now, they didn't even feel like memories.

"So what did you think about bringing?" Niall interrupted my thoughts. "Clothes? The bed? Other girly things?"

I laughed quietly. "I'm not really that girly, actually." The words came out sadder than I wished, clearly showing the emotional break down I was inevitably about to have. God, I wish Harry was here instead of Niall. I felt like an idiot for wanting to cry around him.

"Hey," He said, appearing in front of me in seconds. "What's the matter, Layla?" He asked, tilting my head toward him, much like Harry would do when I refused to look at him. 

I stared at him for a moment, and bit my lip. Slowly, I eased myself down onto my bed, almost wishing that the softness of the mattress could comfort me. But sadly, it did little to take away the ache in my chest. "None of this stuff even feels like mine anymore," I whispered, and shook my head.

He sat down beside me, and offered me a small smile. "I understand that, and you have every right to feel like that, Layla. Your life has been completely turned upside down, and it's not fair."

"Why don't you have a blood servant? Harry told me that you refuse to feed directly from someone," I said, quickly. My cheeks flushed. I didn't want to seem like I was trying to pry into his personal life.

He laughed slightly at my sudden subject change. "I prefer to preserve human life instead of forcing them to preserve mine," He said, and shrugged.