Modest Absolution - Book 5 (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter 25 - Can't tell the difference between myth and man

‘There’s No Sympathy for the Dead’ – Escape The Fate

Can’t tell the difference between myth and man

‘This isn’t your fault,’ Dakota squeezed her eyes closed. Zayn’s voice in her head clear as day. 

The crack of a gun and her knees buckled. 

‘Please don’t die, Dakota, please!’ Louis’ whimpers rattled her to the core and a shiver slithered down her spine. 

‘The baby’s coming!’ Jennifer’s sobs burned into her soul. 

Dakota rested her back against the cold glass as she came undone at the seams. Her mind was rattled and her heart hammering in her chest. She was having such difficulty making sense of her surroundings she had to squeeze her eyes closed and swallow the bile that rose in her throat.

‘Kill me, please kill me,’ Zayn begging for death flashed before her eyes.

Her hands shook violently and she raised one to her lips to stifle a sob. Am I dead? What is happening?

She looked down at her hands, the torn flesh around her wrists was gone and she frowned shaking her head in utter confusion. “I saw them die…” she looked over at Louis still glaring at her. At Zayn asleep and her frown deepened. “How?” She whispered, disbelief running through her mind like adrenaline. 

Confused was an understatement, she ran her hands along the hot glass and stared out at the plethora of people working away like tiny ants on the runway below, Niall was avoiding her just like before and she stared at the group. Her jaw dropped when her eyes rested on Porter, he was talking to Louis with a smile on his face and a beer in his hand. Sunglasses pulled over his face, smile on his pink lips as he threw his head back in laughter. The waiting bay they were situated in had been closed off for privacy, so it was easy for her to pick the group out of the small crowd. Zayn was stretched out on a row of chairs, head on his backpack and arms folded, he had headphones in and his hood pulled over his head but she knew he was awake because he was tapping his foot to the music in his head. 

Dakota sucked in a breath, her friends were here and alive. How is this possible?

Louis was glaring at Dakota from behind his coffee, his lips twisted into a smirk when he saw her sitting alone. She looked down at her body, unmarked by the knives and fists of those brutal men. Then she remembered the feel of his hot breath on her skin, the sound of Zayn’s screams as he held her down and did unspeakable things. She slumped down once more, unable to hold herself up on unsteady knees. 

She stared at Porter, at his hair all mussed from the long flight and the way his deep blue eyes scanned the room and rested on her. He saw the look on her face and stopped smiling, she noted the frown between his brows and she couldn’t stop the tears that dripped down her flushed cheeks. He was alive, Porter’s alive! 

Watching him die, was…

She shook her head and there was Harry walking over with a worried expression etched on his tired face, bags under his eyes and his brown hair a mess atop his head. He stood inches from her, kneeling onto his knee’s he looked up at her. “Hey?” He whispered. 

“You don’t understand I saw–“

“Hey,” he frowned, his voice stern as he rested his hands on her knee’s. “What’s wrong?”

She was silent, staring at his hands on her knees and the ring on his finger that Louis had given him, elephants dancing along the silver that glinted in the light. She shook her head, what can you say? No one will believe you.

“Dakota?” He whispered, the pads of his thumbs running along her torn jeans. “You feeling sick?”

She met his eyes about to open her mouth but began to wonder if maybe it was all just a bad dream. Niall hadn’t come over to break her heart, Louis and Harry weren’t fighting. Maybe if she stalled them a little longer, if she shut her mouth and didn’t try to get Louis and Harry fighting then none of this would happen. 

“Dakota?” Harry put a hand on her chin, his other hand brushing her long hair from her eyes and gently placing it behind her ear. “What’s wrong honey?”

She shook her head, “Bad dream.”

He studied her face, a small, knowing smile played on his lips. “Believe me, I know about bad dreams,” he gestured to Logan’s necklace that peeked out from under his shirt. 

She smiled, shaking her head. “Sorry, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” He asked with a sigh as he sat down next to her on the windowsill. “Just think of the tan you’ll get in a few hours.”

She laughed but it was forced. Though she was here, in the present her mind kept wandering back to that place. She could hear the boys screaming and the gunshots cracking like fireworks through the air. 

“Dakota?” Harry broke her reverie and she jumped. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled shaking her head and gesturing to the spilt coffee. “I am a mess.”

“Is it the,” he sighed, wrapping an arm around her, “You know, the robbery?”

“No.”

“Sasha?”

“No,” she gritted her teeth. He won’t believe you. You’re going insane. None of that happened none of it will happen. 

“I’m here,” he whispered, rubbing her arm and then planting a kiss to the side of her head. 

She nodded, not saying a word but as her eyes scanned the room and she saw Louis glowering at her she shuddered. Dakota shut her mouth about Louis calling the tail on her, Harry wouldn’t find out from her. She had learnt her lesson the first time. 

“I’ll go get you a new coffee,” he whispered and when he caught Louis glaring he sighed. “Ignore him.”

She smiled, “Always.”

Then Harry groaned as he got up off the windowsill in his tight black jeans and baggy green jumper, as he walked away with a loud yawn he yanked the jumper over his head. His white t-shirt came up with the jumper revealing his muscled back, before it fell down once more. He threw the jumper at his back pack at Louis’ feet as he ambled singing to himself for the cafe’ across the hall. 

Dakota looked at the time, it was ten past four and she couldn’t stop shaking. It’s not real it’s not real it’s not–

“Dakota?”

She froze, Niall was standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes red from crying. 

Oh no, oh God it’s happening.