Incomplete (Hollow Sequel)

Chapter 11- Die From Love (Muero de Amor)

Songs:

Muero de Amor: Jesse y Joy

Yesterday: The Beatles

Harry's POV

I tried to follow, Katarina after she scurried off, but by the time I was able to get fully dressed once more, she was gone. I searched the party and even asked around, including her friend, Dylan, but no one seemed to know where she was or that she hadn't even been around until I brought it up.

Once I figured she wasn't at the party any longer, I headed out, being met with the harsh cold, looking to my left and right, wondering which way she had gone and how long ago she had left. I tried to go either way, but my indecisiveness rendered me still.

It didn't matter which way I went, I didn't know where she lived or where she was going. She probably took a taxi, she wasn't so reckless as to walk home alone so late at night, especially after she had drank, so that put me somewhat at ease.

I sighed and walked off towards my hotel, preferring to walk and clear my mind, but all I could think about was, Katarina. Her soft, healthy, tan skin. Her supple curves, her beautiful hips, her healthy thighs, the crook of her neck I once considered home. I had it all except her lips.

Both times we had sex, she avoided my lips on hers.

At first I thought , maybe it was just her in the moment, letting her body react naturally to our motions, but it soon became evident that she was avoiding me purposely. It was odd not kissing her during such an intimate moment. I missed the seemingly simple act.

I never knew I'd miss her lips this much. My mind raced back to happier times, when I would visit her in her London home and spend the night, greeting her and leaving with a shower of kisses. The amount of time we spend just making out on our couch when we had moved in together, just because we could.

Good morning kiss, good night kisses, I'm pissed off at you but I still love you, kisses. Shower kisses. Rushed kisses. Slow kisses. Sad kisses. Makeup kisses. Painful kisses. Lustful kisses. Angry kisses. Kisses that turned into a smile. Kisses that made us feel better. Kisses that made me feel closer to each other. Kisses that erased the pain we felt. Kisses that lead to lip biting and pulling. Lengthy kisses that started off as small pecks.

So many kisses.

So many times I had her lips all to myself.

This was my torment now.

Her lips.

By the time I had reached my floor to my hotel room, I realized I was fighting back tears and an unappealing, large lump in my throat.

"Um, excuse me," I heard the sound of a female voice calling for my attention behind me, just as I was about to step out of the elevator.

I turned to see a small group of girls I hadn't noticed before, all of them staring at me with large, but nervous smiles and all their phones out and ready, some looked like they were recording. I wondered what the hell they were doing out so late. It was well passed midnight and they looked rather young. Probably around Odette's age, if I had to take a guess.

"We were wondering if we could get a picture?" Another blurted out when the first one wouldn't speak. "We're huge fans," she added.

I internally debated with myself. Part of me didn't want to disappoint the young girls, but I could feel myself breaking as each second went by. I wanted nothing more than to climb in my bed and try to forget all of these thoughts I had just concocted of my Katarina, knowing full well that I wouldn't be able to sleep.

"Please," the first girl spoke once more.

I swallowed hard, faked a smile and nodded. I stood with them as they all snapped various pictures and tried to remain as polite as possible, though I wanted to scream out at the top of my lungs to be left alone. It wasn't them, I just didn't feel deserving of their affection, not when I didn't have the affection of the only person that mattered.

"Just don't tweet it or anything until after tomorrow," I begged as I left them, hoping they would understand and respect some of my privacy.

They nodded vigorously and agreed, seeming genuine in their promise. I gave them each a quick hug to make up for my possible rudeness before making my decent to my hotel room. Finally.

I shut the door behind me, switching on the lights and made my way to the mini bar, prepared to drink every single bottle available. Except, I was met with a fridge filled with water, at my request. I mentally cursed myself for trying to get off the juice, desperately needing something to erase the thoughts that were clouding my mind.

I thought about calling room service to get some alcohol sent up, but ultimately decided against it, remembering the promises I made to Odette about my excessive drink and the promise I had made myself.

I had put myself in this situation. This loneliness. This emptiness. I had created this hell for myself when I pushed Katarina away. When I blamed her for something she had no control over. The way I treated her like an object instead of what she was. My whole world. I had no right to drown myself in the numbing liquid and forget, even for a few hours of the pain I was in. Not when Katarina had suffered so much more.

I sighed and threw myself back on the center of the mattress with my legs dangling off the end. I placed my hands over my forehead, inhaling deeply, just trying to slightly ease this pain I was in now.

It always came stronger, with a vengeance, when I was alone. I had no one to keep me distracted, so I only had a mind to wallow in my self pity.

A memory of her smile ran across my mind, causing my lower lip to tremble. I looked over at to my right where she would normally sleep, a tiny part of me hoping that she was there, where she belonged.

I chuckled darkly when I saw the empty space, sitting up from the mattress. I leaned over, placing my arms on my thighs and my face in my hands. Of course she wasn't here. No matter how much time I spent trying to forget her, she was always there, but no matter how many times I looked over, she wasn't going to be beside me.

But, her presence was still so strong. If I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply, I swore I could smell her scent. A beautiful mixture of her own scent and her perfume that just seemed to resemble warmth.

I hated the hope I allowed to build up inside me. Despite my claims to want to get over her, she wasn't going anywhere. I still had hope. Hope that she'd forgive me. That she never left. It varied, but it always ended up with her and I together and I hated it. It was as if it was taunting me. Enjoy the torture it was putting me through.

I had let hope personify itself and it was cruel and slowly becoming my worst enemy.

The constant ache in my chest that had become a part of my existence, the twinge my heart felt whenever I saw her or even heard her being mentioned, all these feelings, they were killing me. Emotionally and mentally, but the worst part was, it wasn't physical. Physically, I was fine. Just fucking peachy.

I was just a shell of a man. I tried to be the man I was before her. I had gone nearly twenty two years without her, it couldn't be possible for one fucking person to take such a hold on my life the way she did. It was over dramatic and unhealthy, but it was true and pure. Before her, I was just living life the way I thought I should. Parties. Girls. Alcohol. Music. Tours. It wasn't until I met her that I truly figured out what it meant to actually love and live fully and wholeheartedly.

Yes, I was living the dream life of any person my age, but what did any of it mean if I had no one to share it with.

"I shouldn't have gone to that fashion show," I sighed to myself, pushing myself up off the bed and headed towards the bathroom.

I needed a shower. Hopefully that could help clear my mind so I could get at least some rest before my flight back to London tomorrow.