The Bodyguard // h.s (Hariana)

27// pull me out of the dark

One week later...

Ariana Grande

I knock on the door to Harry's bedroom. It sounds hallow, like the hallways, the kitchen, pretty much the entire house.

My boyfriend opens the door, his tie not yet straight. I can't meet his eyes, so I simply help him fix the tie. I'm wearing a black dress, my hair down.

"Are you ready?" I ask. Harry remains quiet. No one can ever be ready to say goodbye to a parent. Especially not one that was as great as Edward.

I decide to give him a few more minutes, turning on my heel to leave the room. Instead, I feel my boyfriend grip my arm, stopping me. My head turns slightly, seeing his broken expression in the mirror. He wraps his hands around my waist from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder.

I could hear his every breath, slow and shallow, like it hurt. He had barely spoken to me this whole week, which I couldn't blame him for.

"What do you mean, you don't know what happened?" Harry yelled at me in the hospital. "You said you were going to see him. Where were you then?"

"I got called to the office for a meeting. I came late." Harry would've gone out of his mind if he found out that I didn't go to see Edward because of my ex-boyfriend. I didn't want to lie to him, but now was not the time to tell.

"You should've been there." I backed up a few steps when he threw a finger to chest. He drops it immediately after, voice cracking. "I should've been there."

"What do you need right now?" I ask softly, not daring to move. This was the most contact we've had all week. I couldn't tell if he was angry at me, himself, the world, or all of the above. When Harry doesn't answer, I turn around to face him. The ends of his hair cover his darkened eyes. "It's time to go."

He gives me the smallest of nods and allows me to take his hand.

Throughout the funeral service, Harry is zoned out. I could feel him scrunching his written eulogy nervously. When it is finally his turn to speak, I expected tears, or even a full-on break down. But instead, his speech is bland, like he hadn't put effort into it at all.

He ends by saying something that I couldn't believe, "My father will be remembered by everyone who loved him, and whom he loved. I will be the one to continue his business, his legacy." Harry had discussed with Edward that he wanted to explore other careers, and now he was changing his mind yet again. This is because he is guilty.

When it was time for the burial, tears were already streamed down my face. I put my hand in the pile of dirt, speaking to it. "I'll take care of him Edward, don't you worry. And I don't know if this was a force of nature, or someone did this to you intentionally , but I'll find the truth."

The service then moved indoors, where people talked quietly amongst themselves and had a small meal. After comforting Harry's distant relatives, I searched the room for my boyfriend, who had yet to shed a tear for his father. I saw him heading upstairs, to one of the quiet rooms for people to take a break.

Niall Horan comes up to me, concern written all over his face. "How is he?"

"I don't even know where he is. Both physically and emotionally."

"Harry's not the type to tell people how he feels, except when it comes to you." I could tell he was trying to reassure me that my Harry would come back eventually.

"The only problem is, he has shut me out. I feel like he blames me." Niall shakes his head. "And even if he didn't-" Flashbacks of my hand hovering over Edward's body can't seem to escape my mind. "I blame myself."