Of The Darkness (h.s)

twenty eight

Leslie.

The sheer stupidity I used caused Harry to have a panic attack. I’ve never been so scared in my life and I haven’t let him go since. My arms are wrapped tightly around him and his head of curls lies on my shoulder, his body so over-heated.

“I didn’t want you to leave me,” he whispers, my body seated in his lap.

“I wasn’t going to. I didn’t know what to do and you stopped breathing. I was so scared,” I whisper, kissing his shoulder as we sit in the deserted room in Ed’s office.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me. Nothing like that has happened since that and I promise you, I will never do that again unless someone hurts you. If someone hurts you, I’d beat the shit out of them,” he says, my thumb brushing the curl in front of his ear.

To think he was subjected to unfair treatment because of a bully whose father was the sergeant is so painful. I never knew the complete story about the scars, only knowing they were inflicted due to his dyslexia. But he was in an unfair situation and I want to hold him to take it away.

“There is nothing you need to do right now except get better. I’m never going to leave you as long as I’m alive Harry,” I whisper, his fingers running over his shirt on my body.

“I thought you weren’t talking to me because you regretted making love with me,” he whispers, my head shaking.

“That was one of the greatest moments of my life, Curls. I would never take that back. The only thing I was scared about was what you would say when I told you I was encountered by that guy,” I whisper in his ear, running a hand through his mess of curls.

“I would never yell at you if you were forcefully pushed into something. I trust you and your word; I know you would never lie. I just can’t believe he’s still alive. Where has he been hiding?” he says, and then everything hits me.

“Harry, it’s not him,” I say, his head lifting to meet my gaze.

“What do you mean? Of course it was him,” he says, my hands grabbing his cheeks.

“No. It was someone who looks a hell a lot alike him. It’s a freaking creature,” I say, his hand covering his eyes. He chuckles before smiling, his head nodding.

“Why the hell didn’t we think of that before?” he groans, my hand grabbing his.

“Because both of us were too worried about other things.”

He smiles and takes my hand in his, his IV plugged into the back. “I want to leave,” he groans, moving his head back onto my shoulder.

“Ed said to stay here and let the pain killer work through you. It’s not that bad,” I say, his thumb brushing against my knuckles.

“It would have been much worse if you weren’t here,” he says, his eyes casted down at our hands. His long eyelashes are moving as he looks at our hands, his beautiful features soft.