Distract and Sedate H.S

Chapter Sixty Nine

A/N

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'So we're slaves to any semblance of touch.'

Harry.

As the elevator gently moved along its wires and chains, all my thoughts swarmed over my head like a black cloud. I clutched the ring in my fist, its embedded diamonds piercing my numb skin.

I blinked and stared at myself in the mirrored walls. My face was tired and drained, a good suggestion to my mental health. My heart was pounding after I virtually sprinted across Times Square to the nearest jewellery store in the early hours. You'd think I had gone mad, totally out of touch with what was going on around me. I only had one thing on my mind.

My mother's words floated across my eyes. 'How far that girl has crawled from the hell you showed her...'

I felt myself getting angry as I looked over my stained white shirt and wild hair, the dark shading under my eyes. I couldn't think of anyone else to blame for this. Fucking idiot.

I found the bedroom door unlocked and quietly stepped into the dark room. I jumped to hear her gasp.

"Relax, baby. It's just me..."

The lights blinded me. I blinked to frantically catch her image again. She had pulled herself up to peer over the duvet.

I made a massive mistake this time. I had no idea how to explain myself. All I had was the ring. I don't know why I had thought that would be enough before now.

"Hazel, there's something important that I need to tell you."

"Do you realise how impossible it is to love someone like you?"

Her throat was raw. She must've lost her voice after hours of loud sobbing. It haunted my brain when things got quiet.

"And I still found a way for you."

"I know, I know," I murmured faintly. I wanted to comfort her. I stepped toward the bed and she cowered back into the bedsheets, stopping me in my tracks. I felt the vertex of a dagger toy across the centre my chest.

"You have no idea, Harry," she whispered. Her plump, flushed lips quivered with her pained words.

Her cheeks were rosy and her long hair was in tangles over her precious body. I couldn't explain how beautiful she was, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't even bring myself to tell her now. Not that she wanted to hear another word from me.

"I'm trying, baby-"

"Don't give me that bullshit, Harry."

I knew she wouldn't want another excuse. I didn't have another in any case. I fucked up. The alcohol was still coursing through my veins, driving my nervous system and thoughts.

We stared at each other silently. The more I gazed into her lonesome, blue eyes the emptier I felt. They were usually so full of life and intent. They fed me energy. Without that spark, I was dead. And I was.

"I'm sorry. You're right. It's absolute bullshit," I mumbled.

She wiped her wet eyelashes and hugged her arms around her knees. "I can't stay here."

"But-" Now I was at a loss for words. "Th-this is your home. With Darcy... and me."

She shook her head at my words. "I want to leave."

Another knife drove into my flesh and ripped me open. This one just missed my heart.

"But, I love you. I swear with everything. I love you."

She shut her eyes tightly and another tear rolled down her cheek to her chin. I kept my eyes on it, watching it drop onto her knee. I caused that tear and each one before it.

She deserved so much more than my love. Most of me wished I didn't love her, that she was free from me. I wish I had been kept from her.

"I love you, Harry," she murmured. My head arose and a selfish part of me rejoiced. But it was short-lived. "That's what makes it so hard," she soon after added. "You've caused me so much pain. I know you don't love me back."

This blade sliced straight into my heart. I felt the pain strike immediately; through all my years and the trauma I endeavoured, I had never known anything like it.

My eyes burnt and watered. It was so foreign to me, yet I hardly recognised it over the harsh, suffocating tightness of my chest.

She brought herself to her feet and tugged my sweater over her thin top with weak hands. I bit my tongue not to cry out her name. It was screaming through me, echoing along my bones. It begged for me to do something.

"I'm leaving," she said, shattering me. Every last bit of me.

What else could I have said? Stay? I was disgusting to her, a broken person whom she had cut herself on trying to fix. My eyes blurred and I blinked at her rapidly, so desperate to verbalise from numb lips.

She was out the door in a second and I was on the carpet the next. Sobbing. I dug my finger nails into my palms to stop it, to deter the greater anguish. It was inescapable. What I had done, how I had hurt her.

I forced myself not to get up and apologise and beg for her forgiveness. I forced my wretched self not to bring her back. She was crying for my love, but she had always been better off without me and the baggage I carried. It was the greatest way I could have shown her my love. I had to let her live her life.

The ring lain across the floor. It began to blur as I clenched my fists. I wished I had found the words to tell her just once. I wanted to marry her. I wanted her kiss and her touch and her mind for the rest of my life until the last breath I claimed. Just her, Darcy and I somewhere quiet on the English country side. We could've hidden from the world forever.

But a selfless part of me-a part that she had created-it knew that she would be safer from me than with me. I had to accept that.

I slumped down, my body trembling, and my forehead impacted the carpet. This was my wall. I had hit it. She would be gone from the life I knew. They were going to try taking Darcy from me as well.

And it was all my own fault.