Rupture // h.s au

64. "I fucking need you,"

Autumn

The ground was unkind, it tore at me, clawing at my skin, drawing blood, leaving marks and burns and wounds. I felt weak, like everything that was keeping me together, was now bringing me apart. There were no hands holding onto me, no restrains keeping me away, and that pull was tugging at me, urging me on, to just get to Harry and everything would be okay. I could fall apart or remain whole. I could fade or stay. I could collapse or be put together. It wouldn't matter. I just needed to hold him. Needed to reach him.

My lungs burned with exertion, eyes taking too long to open every time I dared blink, but Harry was right there, hanging in a way that couldn't be comfortable, and he deserved better. So much better. So I bit down on my lips, preventing any cries of pain from escaping, as I stood myself up, leaning onto Harry, as I shook him. He had to wake up. He had to be okay. He couldn't just go, couldn't just leave me. Not when I'd just gotten him back. Not when I loved him the way I did.

" Harry, Harry, please. It's me, come on. I'm here. I'm right here, Harry. Open your eyes. Fuck. Open your eyes, Harry. Don't do this to me. Don't leave me again." I rested my forehead against his, moving my fingers over his face, touching at every rise, every fall, every feature that made him so incredibly... him.

" I love you. Please, Harry. Please."

My lips trembled, tears falling against my face, onto his, molding into the dirt and blood, and I didn't know if they were cleansing him or tainting him further. I longed for another kiss, another touch, another breath of fresh air. I longed for another lifetime to spend with him where the world wouldn't be falling apart and neither would we. I longed for another version of reality where it all made sense and he didn't have to go so soon. I longed for another anything with him. Just anything.

I moved my fingers across his bruised lips, closing my eyes and taking in the way they felt. A cry went past my lips, before they fell against his. I wondered if he could feel it. I wondered if I'd ever be able to feel anything again. A groan was released into my mouth, then a cough, and I could finally breathe.

" Oh God, Harry. Oh my God. You're okay. Hold on. You're okay." I couldn't stop my hands from shaking, as they desperately attempted to release Harry, to free him. I broke through his handcuffs, and his body immediately fell against my own. We both fell to the ground, a heap of broken bones and wounds that would always leave marks behind. But it didn't matter. He was alive. He didn't leave.

He buried his face into my chest, his arms circling around my waist, and I didn't know if I was holding him, or being held by him. Everything was still hurting. God, did it hurt, but it hurt a little less now. I felt a little stronger, like maybe this wouldn't completely end me. I held onto him, because it felt like he was my lifeline. Like if I wasn't holding him, I'd float away and burn the world to hell. And I'd never find my way back to this. To him. To who I was when he was around. To who I should have always been.

" Oh my God, Harry, are you okay? Huh?" I pulled away, only slightly, as he nodded, an ugly cough escaping him, before he tiredly rested his head against my chest again.

" I'm fine. Don't remember much."

And I remembered that a world was fighting to exist outside of us, and that just because time had stopped between us, didn't mean it had stopped all together. I looked away from Harry, and chaos unraveled itself. Louis and Zayn were pointing their guns at the guards that remained. Niall was standing by the door, yelling out orders. I felt like I was underwater. Everything looked blurry, sounded so very distant. And I wondered if I was really there at all.

But then I saw Liam on his knees, with a used gun barely held in his hands. His eyes were wide, fearful, as they took in our father's dead body. Liam remained motionless, except for the tremble of his figure, and the staggering movement of his chest. He barely blinked at all, seemingly afraid of letting any tears escape. I could feel him shutting down, recoiling upon himself, as I realized that Liam had shot our father to death. Liam had killed the leader of the Bureaucrats. And he'd have to live with that.