WEAK // (Harry Styles)

3

I am cold. Cold with worry, fear, pain...

I can't let this happen again. She nearly didn't survive it last time. I lean over and pick up the note. Seeing his handwriting makes me nauseous.

See you soon, my love.

- Z

I get up from the floor and I kiss Claire on the cheek. I have to do... something. I can't just sit here in this room and give whoever gave this note to her time to plan how to hurt her. The thought of what they did to her last time is infuriating. They took away her memories.

During that time, I used to watch her sleep. I wasn't supposed to, and I always feared her waking up and catching me, a guy she'd known for a few days gazing at her in her sleep. I remember how her eyes looked. They flickered violently, her brows furrowing. She was afraid. Even in her sleep.

And after I shot Zayn and we returned back home from the hospital, her eyes were calm. They were completely serene. It's an amazing sight.

I will do anything to get them back. Because I'm watching her eyes right now, and they're flickering. She's afraid again.

And someone made it so.

I type the code into the door, and it unlocks. I get out of the small room and I lock the door behind me. No one can hurt her while she's in there. She might be mad at me later for locking the door, but so be it. If it ensures her safety, I'd do it again and again.

Stop it, Harry. Stop thinking she can't take care of herself. That's how you almost lost her last time.

But once my hand reaches out to unlock the door, I freeze. I can't. I can't give someone else access to her right now. She can be mad at me all she wants, but at least she'll be safe. She's safe.

I hurry up the stairs and into the lobby before I change my mind. I built the safe room just beneath the apartment building. That way it's a quick escape if she's in the apartment. Although, I doubt I'll let her out of the room before I figure this out.

I take the elevator up to the apartment. If someone can put a note in her coat without her knowing it, they can surely break into our apartment without us knowing it too. I have to check if there's any clues.

The doors slide open and I walk straight into the living room, and I'm reminded of the time Zayn had gotten in here, and drugged her once more.

Claire returns with the pizza boxes, opening them on the table. She takes a bite, and looks up at the screen. Her eyes widen and she points at the picture of him, a wide smile on her face.

"Oh my god, that's the pizza man, he was just here!" She laughs, and my lungs deflate of air immediately. Every limb in my body locks in place, and I stare at her warily, waiting for her to realize who she's talking about. But Michael has to remind her.

He was here. He was in the apartment. But...

"Did you see him leave?" I ask, and her lips part without her uttering a word.

I clench my hands onto the head of the couch, shutting my eyes tightly. That was the moment everything changed. That was the moment I changed. For the worse.

Ever since that moment, I was consumed by fear of losing her. There wasn't another emotion in me. And it pushed her away, almost so far to where I didn't get her back. I locked her up, stripped her of her independence and it made her miserable. It made her hate me.

I have to get downstairs again and unlock the door. She can't hate me. I wouldn't survive it.

My eyes sting as I open them, the bright sunset glaring onto the floor. Particles of dust are illuminated, floating through the room. Even though my heart is desperately pumping and my mind is scattering by the second, I find a moment of calm as I feel the sun on my skin.

Just calm down, get downstairs and open the door. Don't worry her. Don't give her a reason to be afraid.

Once I reach the safe room, I drag my limp hand out of the pocket of my jacket and I type the code with cold fingers. I hope she hasn't woken up. But once I open the door, the first thing I see is her in the corner of the room, her arms crossed.

"You can't do that," her low voice speaks.

"Claire, it was just for a few minutes, I went up to the apart-"

"I don't care. You can't do that ever again. Please," she insists, shaking her head slightly. I take one step towards her, and she doesn't budge.

"I'm sorry, but-"

"Harry! You seem to forget that you were in danger the last time too!" she bursts, taking a firm step towards me.

"Zayn wanted you to kill yourself and he nearly succeeded! Do you really think that doesn't haunt me?!" Her voice breaks apart as her eyes water. She grabs my arms, shaking me.

"I'm not the only one in danger, yet you only lock me up! We are in this together. So if you want to go out there and try to find out what's happening like a goddamn vigilante, take me with you! I know you'll do anything for my safety, but I'll do anything for yours too. Do you really think I wouldn't?!" She shouts, and lifts her top.

The scar beside her bellybutton causes me to shut my eyes tightly.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry Claire, I'm sorry!" I plead and grab her. She puts her hands on my cheeks, her uneasy eyes locking into mine.

"Harry, the note." She speaks with a hoarse voice, and I'm reminded of the small piece of paper weighing down my jacket. I bring it out and she takes it out of my hand, watching me.

"This note is from Zayn," she confirms and my stomach squeezes to a pebble.

"But I got this note six months ago, on my birthday."

"Is she okay?" I ask Michael weakly, and he frowns slightly, examining my eyes. Claire has been outside of the apartment all day, without me knowing.

"Yes, she is. But... Zayn was there," he says, and my heart sinks down to my waist. My eyes widen and my knees tremble, and I have no choice but let the fear be eaten by fear. The fear is too painful, too heavy, too much. The anger is easier to handle, and easier to do something with.

I stare at her, feeling my eyes widening. She sighs heavily, walking to the other side of the room, crumpling the note into a ball in her hand.

"Michael and Niall had thrown me a birthday party in this art gallery, and there were hundreds of people there. Amidst it all, Zayn had managed to get into the venue and put this note on my shoulder," she explains, and I wonder why she didn't tell me this before, in the car right after I had dragged her out of the classroom.

"When I came home that night, I didn't have it anymore, because..." she continues, and my brows furrow. If she didn't have it, who did?

"I gave it to Niall."