Complicity [h.s]

16

After realizing nobody is in my room, I tilt back down to the bedding out of pure drunk exhaustion. My mind ballets with darkness as my skull believes it weighs absolutely nothing. I'm a living rag doll with a slight throb behind my eyes.

"You're such an angel when you sleep..."

I open my eyes to my empty ceiling, hearing a whisper in my head and questioning if it's real. My head falls to the side, glancing at the clock again.

3:57

I'm sleeping more than I think I am. I shut my eyes for what feels like a second and suddenly it's been thirty minutes. I'm stuck between reality and my imagination.

I roll my head to the other side, meeting his pair of shadowed green eyes laying next to me. A gentle smile with dimples engrave in his cheeks, dark disheveled hair escaping from a black hood. His head sits propped up from his elbow, laying casually on his side next to me.

"Hi..." He whispers to me.

Laying on my back with my head drifted in his direction, I stare blankly with heavy eyes. My vision spins, perceiving doubles of him. I can't help but keep slowly shutting my eyes, intoxication making it hard to keep them open. I feel a repeated touch of his fingertips grazing across my temple and into my hairline. It's soothing.

His finger slowly transitions between my eyebrows, slowly drawing down the bridge of my nose and off the tip. Eventually, it toys with my parted lips. He pulls the bottom one down before grazing my chin and up my jaw. He traces my face in all the gentlest spots.

Wait—

Realization hits, my heart clutching itself in utter startle that I'm not dreaming. I gasp and shoot upright again, realizing that Harry is in my room and on my bed. As I sit up straight in a dizzy fright, I turn my head down to see that he seized to ever exists. Chest rising up and down, my eyes stare at the empty bed. I'm alone. There's no one here.

He's not real.

My head turns left and right around the dark room again, lungs clawing for air as sweat breaks out down my uneasy body.

He was just here. He was just laying next to me, playing with my hair and smiling at me. I can see him so perfectly in my head—yet the longer I think about it, the more I start to believe I was dreaming. Because suddenly, he was gone. How can he vanish like that? It's impossible. No one can disappear in a second.

I turn my head to the clock again.

4:49

Oh my god, it's been an hour? I just looked at the clock and it said it was 3:57. How has it been an hour? Was I actually asleep this entire time?

I start to understand that I've been dreaming. The figure in my balcony, Harry laying next to me on the bed. It's all not real. I'm falling in an out of a sleep without realizing it, the lines between real and fake becoming blurry to my distorted thoughts.

Discomfort takes over my blood, these visions causing me to feel on edge in my surroundings. The hairs on my arms stand up as I start to realize how cold it is in my room now. My arms cross as I rub them up and down for warmth, turning my eyes to the open balcony doors. I leap up and stumble over to shut them, muffling the night wind. Something in me tells me to lock the doors, so I do.

He's wasn't real. He wasn't here.

Arms crossed, I turn back over to my bed. This time, I pull back the covers and actually get in it rather than laying at the foot. Still in my dress, I slip under the satin sheets, resting my head down on the pillow and gripping the gun I have underneath it. My imagination has left me feeling on edge, even if it's not real. Shutting my eyes, I try to fall back to sleep.