The Girl in the Mirror 2 (Harry Styles fanfic)

Chapter 38

"What the fuck have you done?" I ask harshly.

My heavy voice echoes through the room, making it feel even emptier than it already seems. I don't expect her to reply, she stays silent, like I knew she would. She's too self-absorbed to pay attention to anything or anyone else. She doesn't care that I've found her like this. She isn't sorry that I've got to deal with this now. She's never sorry though.
I run my hand through my messy hair, not caring about how I look. Do materialistic things matter at all now? I suppose they don't matter at all, maybe they never did matter, but it's taken a tragedy for me to realise it. If I'd lived differently then maybe we wouldn't be here now. Maybe we wouldn't even be together and I wouldn't have to deal with this overwhelming harshness of loss. Maybe there wouldn't even be a baby to have lost.

"You're fucking selfish" I tell her.

I don't know why I'm wasting my breath on her. She doesn't care about being selfish, she's never cared about always putting herself first. I just hope somehow my words sink in and she feels some remorse for being a shit partner and a shit person.
I don't bother ringing an ambulance, I don't want to bring any more attention to us. I don't want everyone to see how badly we're crumpling and how quickly we've fallen apart. I don't want everyone to think any worse of us than they probably already do.
I leave the room, searching the cupboards until I find a first aid kit. I don't know the first thing about first aid, but I know how to clean cuts and put a bandage on someone. It isn't exactly rocket science. I go back into the bedroom, first aid kit in hand. She still lays in the exact same position as I left her minutes before, she hasn't moved at all. I can still hear her weeps, telling me she's fine, like I knew she would be.
I reach her, bending down beside her and I take hold of her arm in my hand. I remember the days when the feeling of her skin on mine would send electricity through my body, but those feelings have long gone. We've been through too much for electricity to remain. I carefully use the antiseptic wipes to clean up the blood, gently wiping over her wounds. She doesn't wince in pain like I'd expect, she just closes her eyes, ensuring she doesn't look at me. She doesn't expect any love or affection from me, which is good because she wouldn't get any. I go through several wipes as I try to clean up her arms, but some of the wounds still leak blood. I give up in the end, knowing I can only wipe the cuts so many times, before I have to accept the blood isn't going to just stop. I simply wrap her arms in the bandages, hoping for a small period of time the blood will be kept at bay and the pressure will eventually stop the blood from flowing freely.
She doesn't say anything to me, not even when I secure the last bandage in place. I feel remarkably calm, considering how worked up I was before, but I think it's because I don't give a shit anymore. I don't care. I'm just ashamed, ashamed to call her my fiancé. I'm ashamed that I considered marrying this fuck up. I can't be with someone so unstable. So, when the time is right I'll leave her. I'll leave her alone because it's not like we're even on different pages anymore, we're on different books. I know she's hurting, I'm hurting too, but I think in all honesty this was over for us both a long time ago. It's just taken us both along time to realise it.
I stand up, without a word spoken and I leave the room. I leave her to grieve alone. I give her time alone, which she'll have to get use too. The moment the time is right, the moment I can I'll leave. I'll leave her and I'll leave her to cope on her own. I'll make her realise how much she needed me, but by then it'll be too late.

Sienna's POV

I can't feel a single thing, I can't feel any ounce of pain. I can't even feel the blood slowly trickling down my arm. It's like it's not even there, like I'm not even here. I know I'm covered in cuts, my arms slashed, but I can't feel any wound I've created. I repeatedly ran the razor over my wrists, then my arms, wanting to feel something. I wanted to feel the pain, but the feeling never came back. I don't think it'll ever come back again. I could keep damaging myself, pushing my body beyond its limits and I still wouldn't feel it.
There is one thing I can feel though, something excruciating and beyond any pain I've ever felt in my life. The pain in my heart, a pain so intense that it feels like a gaping hole has been left there. It doesn't matter what I do to myself, no matter where else I inflict the pain it's nothing compared to the pain in my heart. I didn't want Harry to find me, not like this, but I didn't have a choice. I just wanted all of the pain to stop, I wanted to end things, so I could just go to sleep and never wake up. I couldn't see beyond wanting to be with Freddy, wanting to hold him and tell him I love him, again. It kills me knowing I can't do that, not now, not in this life. I know he's waiting for me though, he's waiting for me in the afterlife and that's where I want to be. I want to be with him, no matter the costs and no matter the hurt caused to others.
Harry leaves the room, disappointment and disgust on his face. I don't care how much he hates me, I don't care about anything anymore. I see the way he looked at me, he feels nothing towards me and I nothing towards him. We once shared something special, but all of that is just a memory now. We shared the love for a sweet boy, who made us love one another again. In the end Freddy was the only thing that kept us together after years of turbulence.
I lay on the bed, not moving or speaking, nothing at all. I can't do this, I can't live without the only person who meant something to me. I close my eyes, picturing Freddy's face and I wish for death to take over me. I want it to come and swallow me up, but it doesn't. It didn't come before, no matter how many times I ran that blade over my wrist. The blade wouldn't cut deep enough, not deep enough for the wound to count. All I'm doing now is bleeding, just bleeding and that's not enough for me, anything other than death isn't enough. Anything other than being with Freddy isn't enough.