Chapter Twenty Eight

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When Mila wakes up she finds herself in her own bed, inside her own bedroom. She doesn't even bother thinking about how she got there, knowing Harry most likely carried her home or something like that.

She sits up in her bed letting the cold air of the night brush against her bare back making goosebumps appear on her arms. Instead of covering herself up she embraces it, because right now it is the only emotion she is able to feel. The rest of her is empty. The thought of what she did doesn't even make her feel sad, just numb.

She looks to her left to see Harry sleeping peacefully beside her. The faint white light from the moon is the only source of light in the room. Mila glance down at his wrists to see red marks from the rope that kept them tied together. The same marks she has. Images of him falling into the pool helpless flashes before her eyes making her flinch. Mila takes his hands carefully, and kisses along his marks.

His hands falls down softly on the covers once she lets them go. The urge to move consumes her, making her throw her covers to the side, and stand up. She notice one of Harry's shirts on the floor, and moves to pick it up. The soft fabric brushes against her skin as she slides it on, and lets his familiar scent fill up her nose.

She walks towards the door with silent steps, not wanting to wake up the beautiful man in her bed. He deserves to be peaceful if only for a few hours. She opens the door, and closes it behind her soundlessly. The emptiness of her living room suddenly feels like a taunting reminder.

She moves into her kitchen, and pulls out a bootle of liquor. Her whole body falls to the floor. It's as if the bottle brings itself to her lips, and forces it's liquid down her throat. It burns, but the feeling is better then none. She drinks more, and more only to feel the same burn again, and again. After some time another sensation takes over her body. The kitchen spins, and her body feels tingly.

Mila pushes herself up of the floor with much struggle, almost tripping back to the floor. She drags herself out to the living room by holding onto the wall with one hand, and the flask with the other. She has no idea where her body is taking her, but she quickly finds herself in front of her murder board. Her body freezes as she reads the words on the top of the board. Who killed them? It says, and it was the big question during most of her life. Mila laughs as she looks at who her main suspect was; M.E. She picks up an eraser, and removes the dot between the two letter, and stares at the new words. ME. She had the answer there all along.

She takes another sip from the bottle. "Me. I did it." Her words come out in slurs. The familiar growing rage builds inside her body. She wants to punch something, anything, but this time that doesn't seem like enough. Instead she raises the bottle, and screams, "me!" As she throws the bottle at the board making a loud crash fill up the silence around her.

As she watches the liquor run down the board she feels tears escape her eyes. A sob falls from her lips before she throws herself towards the board, and tare it down peace by piece. Suddenly arms wrap around her, and drags her away from the half broken board. She struggles against the arms, but once she falls onto the couch, her head spins too much to fight.

"Mila," Harry says trying to get her attention, but it's as if she is somewhere else entirely. He grabs a hold of her chin, and forces her tear filled eyes to meet his worried once. "I need you to breath," he says, and Mila didn't even know she held her breath until he said so.

"It's too much," she says, her voice cracking. Harry opens his mouth to speak, but before he can she runs off to bathroom, feeling something build in her throat. She throws herself over the toilet, and empties her stomach inside it. Tears falls of the tip of her nose. Once she feels that her stomach is empty she falls down completely drained beside the toilet. The words didn't make much sense to her anymore.

Harry suddenly picks her up, and sits her down on the sink. She can't hold herself up, so he supports her with one hand while picking up a toothbrush with the other. With much struggle he eventually manages to get toothpaste on the toothbrush, and wets it before telling Mila to open her mouth. He begins to brush her teeth.

When Mila's eyes meet his all the bad feelings wash away, because no matter what she did she knows she would have lost her parents one way or another, but if she hadn't done what she did she would have lost him. This time when tears fall from her eyes it's from happiness over having Harry, knowing he will always take care of her.

When he is done he throws the toothbrush away, and she doesn't protest. A big breath leaves his lips before he look up at her, and it's not until now she notice that he is only in his boxers. He straightens up a bit as he wraps his arms around her waist, and pulls her closer. She immediately places her arms around his neck. "We'll get through this," he says sincerely.

"Harry Styles," Mila says playing with the back of his hair. Her love for him consumes her, and she needs to tell him before she explodes. "I love you, and if those words still scare you then you can run away again, but nothing will ever make me feel differently. When I was so lonely you came into my life, and made me feel new. You made me feel all these new things. I often chose to talk to you over reading a book, and that never happens." Harry laughs. His eyes are glowing, and there is no sign of that coldness he sometimes beholds in his eyes. "You have been there for me more then anyone, and I know that if you choose to stick around, and let yourself be loved we will indeed get through this. Together."

Instead of answering he crashes his lips onto hers. Harry lifts her up, and carries her back into the bedroom. They pull apart before he lays her down carefully. Both of them crawl under the cover before resting their head on the soft pillows. "I'm not going anywhere," he says as he plants a kiss on her hand.

Even though what she did will forever haunt her in some way she knows that as long as Harry is there it will be bearable.

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