Aflame - (Heated's Sequel) - [A Harry Styles Fanfic]

Chapter 60

{Start song now}

"There is a particular kind of suffering to be experienced when you love something greater than yourself. A tender sacrifice. Like the pained silence felt in the lost song of a mermaid; or the bent and broken feet of a dancing ballerina. It is in every considered step I am taking in the opposite direction of you."

- Lang Leav

Aflame - Chapter 60

As the lukewarm water falls around me and the steam clouds up the little box in which I am sat in - knees to chest - I can't help but to be smothered with the thoughts that are just aimlessly swimming around in my mind.

Is he lying?

Where has he wandered off to?

It's hard... Trying to trust him with all of this dark clouds surrounding me, is hard.

The tears gets morphed in with the droplets of water that are falling around me.

Why do I get this feeling that something bad is about to happen?

Why hasn't Chrsitians' showed up yet?

What is he planning?

Is Madison apart of it?

... Is Harry?

I try to shake the thought off as I get up from the ground and let out a breath before turning off the water.

I make my way out of the shower as the steam cascades around the room. Reaching for the white towel, I wrap it around myself before walking the cold tiles and making my way towards the mirror.

I watch myself for a moment, my eyes dark and emotionless... Drained.

I then look down as I have both hands on the sink before me as I shut my eyes and then turn around to make my way to the bedroom.

Thoughts following behind me like my shadow that can only be taken away by darkness... Or death.

After getting dried up, I throw on a gray t-shirt that was found in the drawer, and as soon as it reaches over my body, wrapping itself around my skin... I remember the phone.

I bite my lip, wondering if it's still there.

Maybe there's something that I can find on it, maybe there's something that can help.

I walk on the soft carpet, making my way towards the drawer. My heart beats faster at the uncertainty - the fear of what I might find.

As I open the wooden drawer, I lift the clothing once more, only to find the phone missing.

I furrow my brow as I scratch around the drawer, hoping that I will soon find what I am looking for - but nothing.

Where has it gone?