Light To Guide Me | zourry au

SIX

The first time he sees it focused and clear, a visual vibrant and vivid, is during his sleep with Zayn. A depiction of two children in long raggedy dressed with red hair and an eye color that Harry can't distinguish. Despite only seeing them once, he can't tell the shade but feels like it should be important to remember.

They aren't as dangerous as they made an impression with ─ being in the restroom, during the dog walk, and in the water ─ because their smiles shine from ear to ear and their piggy tail braids with bows hold no intimidation. He doesn't catch on to they're telling him, all he knows is that they're almost begging in someway but they aren't out to get him.

It's a dream setting in this house, he knows he's in a deep sleep but he can practically feel himself walking around the room where he lays, watching himself sleep next to Zayn. Looking at himself, it's the most peaceful he's see himself. It's a shame when something's pulling him back, pulling him by the arm and shoving him to the point where his wounded cheek meets the pavement. But he doesn't know how he got there, only seeing the the two girls on either sides of him, leaving him with a dizzy hallucination. He doesn't know if it's his blood, or theirs but there's a pool on all of their palms, dripping down their ring fingers. Even Harry's lips stain their flesh with a bright red every time he tries to get a scream out, but with no avail.

Harry's thrashing around, as if there's restraints holding him back ─ incapable of moving. It must alarm Zayn because Harry feels a hand rubbing against his face, a light pat on it, possibly to get Harry's attention, as goes when Zayn's is raising from his groggy voice, "Harry?"

It's an instinct in his dream, he doesn't actually believe his hands are wrapping tight around Zayn's neck with his thumb prodding deep below his Adam's apple. But when he's feeling his body shake in momentum, he's trying to wake up to see if it's really happening. It's torture to feel his hands gripping the neck of someone he cares about, knocking the air out of Zayn. Tears cloud Harry's mind and vision, feeling his pressure of his thumb press down even harder. Harry feels fingernails clawing at his arm, hands tugging at his hair, but when he feels his his cheek throbbing so suddenly, he's out cold all over again.

Harry's jolting up, sweaty like the day before, nobody on the other side of him, only this time his bones ache terribly and he's panting faster than ever with his chest heaving and falling like nothing can compare.

"Harry? Fuck, you're awake." Zayn almost says it breathlessly, relieved as he kneels down the side of the bed with a tall glass of ice water. Harry reaches for it and sips lightly, his threat feel swollen as well as if he were to speak, it would sound like a little squeak.

"I don't..." Harry's voice is a little hoarse, deeper than his morning voice, sounds inured like having a sore throat sickness, "I just remember I had a terrible nightmare and I cried and cried and ─ how'd you get that?"

"It's nothing Harry." Zayn shrugs it off, walking over to where Harry thinks Zayn's about to avoid the whole conversation, but instead he's got a tray in his hand coming back sauntering shyly, adjusting it onto Harry's lap.

"It happened in my dream, unless I really did that to you. I did, didn't I? I'm so sorry." Harry's squirming in place, adjusting the breakfast to side despite the aroma smelling delicious and enticing. He looks at the spoon for a second, remembering more of his dream because of the dull reflection, "That means you punched me."

"You know I felt awful, and still feel awful about that. But I needed to, I couldn't breathe. Was seriously about to pass out bad, Harry. I'm still sorry though. But I didn't know how to push you off."

"Don't be sorry. It's my fault."

"Never. It isn't. You had a bad dream and needed to let that frustration out. Happened to let it out on me, but it's fine. Really." Zayn's reaching for his hand, giving him the right comfort he needs right now to draw attention from the residual guilt.