Sacred Heart

Chapter 1:

Taylor's POV:

"NO!" I scream. His dark, lifeless eyes stare me down, his lips twist to a smirk. He snickers. Then he swings his fist forward, slamming against my cheek. My head hits the wall, causing me to fall to the floor. He looks me right in the eyes, as tears spill out of them. I try to hold it in but I fail to do so.

"It's your fault I do this." He says, his voice raspy and low. He slams his foot in my ribs. I cry out, and nod.

"You could have stopped this. It's for your own good." He says, I can hear the pain, and joy in his voice. I curl up, expecting him to kick me again. But he doesn't, and when I look up I don't see his foot, I see a gun. Pointed at me.

"You deserve this." He says, his hands shaking. His voice cracks.

"No." I whisper. "Harry please, I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you want, I swear." I plead. He just shakes his head.

"You deserve this." He says again. I don't think he's trying to convince me anymore, I think he's trying to convince hisself. His finger slowly moves over the trigger.

"I loved you. And you hurt me." He says. Then he shoots.

"NO!" I scream. I shoot up in my bed, tears streaming down my cheeks. My heart is pounding against my chest so hard it feels as if it's going to burst. I take a deep breath and grab my phone.

I know what to do. I've done it before. I scroll through my contacts until I stop at one name. Ed Sheeran.

"Taylor?" He answers, yawning.

"Ed, I had the dream again." I say frantically. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and get out of bed. I turn the lights on in my room and close my curtains.

"Was it exactly the same?" He asks.

"Exactly. Except this time, it went until he shot the gun. But I woke up before the bullet hit me." I say. I pace back and forth, taking deep breaths.

"Okay Taylor, Calm down, take deep breaths. Your going to be okay." He says. His voice is always so soothing for me. He can always calm me down.

"Ed, I'm scared." I say, my voice cracking. Then the tears start. Quietly, and softly.

"I'm on my way over. Just calm down, it's okay, he's not here. He can't hurt you." His voice is so relaxing. So calm, and gentle. He's always so reassuring, always helps me when I'm in need.

"What if it's a sign. What if he's coming back. What if he found me." I say, my mind swift lung with different theory's. I run my fingers through my tangled, messy hair.

"Okay Taylor, I'm here so don't freak out, I'm coming in." He hangs up the phone, and seconds later I hear the door click open.

"Ed!" I yell. I run to the door and wrap my arms around his neck. I bury my face in his shoulder. He hugs me tightly for a minute, until I stop shaking. He pulls back and closes the door. I glance at the clock, realizing I haven't even looked. 2:00 a.m.

"You okay?" He asks, his hands on my shoulders. I nod. I look into his eyes. They're filled with concern.

"Yeah." I say, looking away. We walk over to my couch and sit down. He sits close. Too close. I move over, slightly. I feel his eyes on me. I try not to look but I can't help it. I smile slightly. My eyes search his, trying to read what he's thinking, but it's impossible. I can never read him. That's a feeling that I'm very unfamiliar with. Every other guy that I've ever had feelings for, was extremely easy to read. I always knew what they were thinking. Not that I have feelings for Ed. I feel his hand reach toward mine. He squeezes it gently, then intertwines his fingers with mine. I move over, and lay my head on his shoulder. I'm not sure what it is about him that makes me feel so safe. Maybe it's his kind eyes, or his gentle touch. Or maybe it's just the fact that nobody has ever been this way with me before. So careful, and gentle. Nobody's ever cared to do so I suppose. But Ed does. He's the only one who knows about my past. What I've gone through before. He's the only one who knows that what I need is to be treated gently. I feel his fingers run through my hair. I feel my eyes get heavy, closing and opening again. Until I can't gather the strength to open them again, and I slip away into inner workings of my mind. Into my imagination for the night.