Not A Bad Thing

Finding One Another

"Scan this card when you are on the elevator- it will allow you to enter the 8th floor you'll be staying in."

Harry nodded and started to the steps to the elevator that stood above them.

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Harry dozed off on the elevator after he swiped his card to make his descent.

He was fucking tired as hell.

He closed his eyes.

His backpack fell off onto his elbow.

He stood and stumbled at the back of the elevator, facing the door.

He breathed out slowly.

"God. Why is this life so... prominent?" He said, breathing out his words.

The elevator came to a stopping jerk.

Harry cursed at the wobbly, cheap elevator. Only the best!

The elevator stopped, and didn't move for a second, but then a ding came to the elevator, whisking his presence to be gone already.

Harry rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand and started out into the loft.

He didn't carry but one bag, and that was his black backpack. He was too forgetful to carry a suitcase anyway.

He blinked quickly and walked quickly out of the elevator.

He didn't really want to unpack- he didn't have anything to unpack anyway.

He threw his bag on the floor- not looking where- and tried to keep his eyes open as he quickly pulled his Rolling Stones shirt off with one swift movement and threw his shirt onto what he thought was the couch and left his jeans on, taking his shoes off. The loft had a soft scent of some smell.... a smell he couldn't forget but to smell.

Flirty and fun. His eyes couldn't make out anything quite frankly. Must be side effects to the alcohol, Harry thought.

He shook his head, and touched many different walls before making out the king sized bed in the middle of a room.

He smelt sea salt wafting from a nearby window. Something like that.

He put his hands on the bed, making sure not to fall yet again.

He collapsed onto the bed-- not caring where he was. Harry blinked thoroughly, before falling asleep. Bracing himself for another nightmare.

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***HARRY'S NIGHTMARE**

"But you can't have me Harry"

"Why?"

There was no personality behind the voice.

"Because I.... you don't really love me. Never the way you are supposed to ,"

"You don't know that. I can change, listen-"

The scene shifted and Harry stood on a beach.

"Harry"

A dark, menacing voice struck Harry.

Harry said nothing.

"Harry!"

Harry's name was repeated. Over and over, sounding from a booming voice to a crow. Begging for Harry's death to come.