Paperdoll (Haylor)

t h i r t e e n

- t h i r t e e n -

Harry's blood ran hot inside his body, his fingers began to hurt from the tight grip he had on the old wood.

His jaw was clenched in anger as he watched the inebriated man, stumble through the lone street.

A bundle of bad thoughts clouded his thought, most curses, and desire to kill him, then and there.

He'd seen it all, the dammed man had the nerve to lay a hand on his Taylor.

In a matter he never thought was possible to do to a woman.

He could now never forget her face while he was up to his no good, fear.

Suffering, pain, and sorrow.

Her eyes reflected so many things, the fright in her eyes was unbearable.

His thoughts and heart wouldn't know how to respond, what to do.

But he knew one thing.

He now wanted to hurt that man more than he has ever hurt Taylor, he didn't deserve to walk on this world.

He caused Harry shame to be living.

Resisting the urge to chase after him, take his bottle away and ban him from ever going near Taylor. He simply watched him retreat with anger.

He also didn't want to cause Taylor anymore trouble than he already had.

And he felt guilty.

Harry wanted to comfort her, seeing her tears in the most brutal way, made him hurt.

For he knew all of this was his fault.

Suddenly it all came to him, why she always hesitated to tell him anything.

Why it was that whenever he was so close to getting what he wanted, she couldn't continue.

It was her fear that made her decisions, not her.

He didn't care that everything he was wearing was now soaked, his coat now many times heavier with the weight if the rain.

He needed to see her.

Walking up to the front steps turning over to see if the man had left, after confirming, he shook the door knob.

Locked.

The only way to open it was by kicking it down, but he wouldn't.

His feet tapped inpatient as he looked towards the sky and let the rain hit his face.

What could he do.

Suddenly, as he was about to lower his gaze down again, his sight struck on a window that shed light.

She was there.

He wondered his eyes all around and he was going to get in.

If he had to climb up on the roof, and slip inside through the window, then damn right he would.

Just for her.

Harry, searched for ways to mount on the top.

Grabbing a hold of the trash bin by the old mail box, he could lean it towards the wall in the garage, mount on, and if he could jump high enough, he could grip the metal railing and throw himself over.

Then he would carefully walk over, hands carefully balanced on the side, knock on her window, and comfort his love.

Of course to anyone it would sound absurd, but to him, it meant everything as long as he could reach her, especially now that she needed love so desperately.