Lush Expiration | Harry Styles AU | BOOK 3 ✓

23

Vicky West

I remember Harry taking me home that evening. I hadn't stopped crying until we were in bed and he was holding me so tightly.

He tried to stay strong himself, but I knew Harry had a hard time dealing with this loss. We kept silent the entire evening. We didn't know what to say, so we drifted away after a few minutes.

I had a terrible nightmare that night, and I went downstairs to get some water.

As I walked down the stairs, I saw all the pictures on the wall. I spotted Marcel's face in a few, and I felt this lump in my throat. My jaw was clenched as I observed the pictures, and a tear strolled down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly before I continued walking to the kitchen.

I rested my hands against the kitchen counter and sealed my eyes for a while. I couldn't help but see all the memories of Marcel and I pass by. From the moment he did my make-up, went shopping, having unbelievably funny evenings with Red to the day we said goodbye at my place.

Never, in a million years, I expected it to be our last.

After I had a glass of water, I took a seat on the couch. It was dark in the living room, and I could hear myself breathing. I pressed my legs closer to my chest and simply thought of the years I got to spend with such a beautiful soul.

Marcel was way too good for this world.

I sat on the couch for a long time, at least it felt like it.

But I was ripped out of my thoughts when Harry walked over to me. My watery eyes looked at him coming closer. He didn't say a word when we locked eyes, but he sat beside me and put his arm around my body protectively. I let myself fall against his bare body carefully.

"It's okay," Harry whispered.

But we both knew it wasn't okay. We lost someone who we loved deeply. Someone who played an active role in our lives and had seen us grow up. Knowing that he wasn't going to return – ever – broke my heart into thousandth pieces.

"Babe," Harry breathed. "Let's go back to bed, okay?"

I nodded before we got off the couch slowly.

Obviously, it was useless to stay downstairs and keep myself awake. I thought that if I closed my eyes, I would see him again and perhaps think him passing away wasn't real. I couldn't stand the idea of waking up and be faced with reality.

Harry was behind me as we walked to the bedroom. I crawled back into the bed and he wrapped his arm around me, again. I felt a warm feeling inside of me.

I knew life was too short and we had to enjoy it thoroughly, but once someone passed away it hits you more than ever. And for a split second I let the thought invade my mind how it would be if it was Red, Louis or Harry.

"Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that." Harry whispered smoothly.

Slowly but surely, I fell asleep.

The next day was heavy. I realized more and more that Marcel was really gone. Harry made sure to give me some space to let it all sink in, and also closed the Moulin Rouge for two weeks. We weren't going to give a show if all of us were mourning.

A couple of days later, we heard the funeral would be in Los Angeles – a place he left but wanted to come back to.

Harry had been in contact with Marcel's brother, and he told him he died because of a heart attack.

It saddened me how he left Los Angeles to live his life to the fullest, but he never got the chance.

The morning of the funeral, I opened my closet and searched for something appropriate to wear.