Stockholm Syndrome | H.S. |

Twenty One

"He killed your parents, your best friend, and his sister, how do you love him? How do you forgive him?" Agent Brooks asks Desiree not understanding how the young lady can love someone who's taken everything away from her.

"Do you think I forgave him?! I never forgave him for killing who he killed. I pushed past it. I had to remind myself that it wasn't himself who killed all the people he killed, it was the goddamn voices!" Desiree yells tears threatening to spill. She didn't understand how the agent couldn't get it through her thick skull that she loved Harry for who he was not for what he did. "At one point I hated him for it. I resented him! He went through his struggle and so did I. We went through a phase where we didn't speak for a really long time because he couldn't understand why he murdered his own sister," Desiree says informing the agent.

***

November 11 12:18 pm

Desiree's POV

I wake up on the couch. I can't seem to remember the last time me and Harry slept together in the same bed. Or even when we last spoke. After he killed his sister he completely shunned me out. He doesn't want to speak to me or even sleep near me.

My only thought is because he's scared that he'll do what he did to Gemma to me. I wouldn't mind. I have nothing to live for anymore. He killed my parents, best friend. Me and Gem were getting closer and closer everyday. We were planning a baby shower and everything.

I'm getting bigger. I don't know how I'm supposed to hide it any longer from Harry. I don't want to tell him and he gets upset. I don't want any harm to come to this baby.

I sit up and relax on the couch.

I need to check on Harry. I make sure I'm the first to wake up and the last to go to sleep. If I stop watching him, he might do something he'll regret.

I stand, my bones creaking and cracking as I walk. I climb the stairs and enter our room. His back is turned to me. I sigh. I miss the old him.

"You don't have to keep checking on me Desiree." I jump at his sudden words.

"How long have you been awake?" I ask him as I step inside the room a bit.

"For a while now. But you don't need to keep checking on me. You've been doing it for a month. I'm not going to kill myself," he blantantly says.

"I-I have to make sure Harry," I whisper surprised by his blunt outburst.

"I'm fine."

"I have a very hard time believing that honey," I tell him stepping a bit closer to the bed. I'm happy he's deciding to speak to me.

"Don't you think I would've killed myself by now instead of waiting a month to do so?!" he shouts at me. I stay silent not sure of what to say next. He let's out a sigh himself. "Desiree can you just leave me alone?" he asks me.

"I'm sorry but I can't do that. Kill me, beat me, I don't care but I can't let you kill yourself slowly," I tell him even though I don't understand why I even told him the words I did. He's full of surprises. One minute he could love me but the next he could want to kill me. I walk stealthily to the bed and climb up. I tediously place my hand on his shoulder, hoping I don't trigger something.

"Why are you so good to me?" he asks after a while turning to face me, my hand sliding from his shoulder to his chest.

I look deep into his green orbs preparing my next words.

"Because I love you. And it's me and you. I'm here for you. You don't have to keep running. You found me. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere," I tell him.

"I'm sorry," he tells me and I give him a baffled look. What was he talking about?

He opens his fisted hand and my heart falls to the pit of my stomach.

"Oh my god," I whisper eyeing the empty pill bottle. "How long ago did you take this?!" I yell at him but he just looks at the ceiling. "GET UP! C'MON WE'RE TAKING A TRIP TO THE BATHROOM!" I yell as I grab his wrist and pull but he doesn't budge.

"Just leave me," he says.

I rush to the bathroom turning the cold water on the shower head. I dash back to the bedroom.

"C'mon Harry! I'm not losing you!" I cry out pulling on his arm. "I CAN'T LOSE YOU!" I pull and little by little I drag him off the bed. He hits the floor with a thud and it seems much easier dragging him across the floor. Less friction I guess. "Okay. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay," I repeat not only for his sake but for mine. I can't lose him.

I get in the chilly tub and try to pull him in the tub but gosh he's one heavy guy. I eventually get him in there, our clothes starting to get soaked. I sit as he sits in between my legs. I stick my fingers down his throat and he regurgitates. It comes up in half pills and white powder and food particles. I stick my fingers down his throat again. I continue to try to make sure I get all of the pills. "Harry!" I ask him as he lays limp in my arms. "Oh god," I cry and I press my hand against his chest. His chest is still beating. "HARRY!" I scream. "HARRY!!" He wakes slowly and looks around. His eyes land on mine and he breaks down. "It's okay," I cry as my tears are merged with the shower water. "Everything's going to be okay," I whisper as I pet his soaking wet hair staring at the wall in front of me. "It's going to be okay," I repeat.

**

6:34 pm

I change into Harry's grey sweatpants and a black long tee. I changed him earlier and am just getting out of my half dry, half wet clothes. I made sure to watch him and monitor him as he sleeps. I sniffle. I might be getting sick again for staying in that cold water. I glare at him from the window seat.

I'm angry at him. Why did he do that?! He could've died! I guess that was the point but god! That was wreckless! I could've lost him! I run my hand through my hair. It's matted and a bit wet. I sigh shaking my head. I'm so glad I woke up when I did. I should've known something was off. He must've known that I always got up before him. He's never up before I am.

I let out another deep sigh.

I'm not letting him out of my sight. Ever.