His hand snuck down to my sides and I jerked away from his prodding fingers.
“Come on, Angie, don’t you like to be tickled?” he asked with a smirk.
“No, not really,” I shook my head and laughed.
Softly, he pressed his lips to my cheeks and the corner of my lips again and again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting my fingers tangle in his dark curls. Harry smiled and kissed my neck.
I took his hand and intertwined my fingers with his. He took my hand and brought it up to his lips.
“Now I can’t ever let you go,” he told me.
Harry pulled the covers up and we spooned. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me gently to his chest.
I felt his heart beating gently against my back. I closed my eyes, listening to the rhythm of his heart drift me to sleep.
And I knew there was nothing else we had to fight to be together.
***
There was loud knocking at the door. I jolted up in bed and pulled the covers up to my neck.
“Mr. Harold Styles, we know you’re in there. This is the police department for the state of New York, here to arrest you on the charges of illegal drug trafficking, police assault, and the rape of Miss Angela Lorenzo.
Police? Arrest? Rape!? What on God’s green earth is going on?
Harry woke and sat upright, staring at me with wide eyes.
“Harry?!” I whispered loudly.
He reached down next to the bed and pulled on his boxers.
“Harry, what’s going on?” I asked, my voice failing to mask my worry.
They pounded on the door. I grabbed my bra and underwear and I slipped them on quickly.
“Angela,” he spoke calmly, taking my face in his warm, steady hands. He looked into my eyes. “I need you to do exactly as I tell you” he commanded calmly.
“Harry-” I started, but he interrupted.
He took my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him.
“Listen to me, Angela,” he ordered, not asked.
“You need to leave before they break this door down. You need to go to Danny-” he told me calmly. He picked up my shirt and pants and handed them to me.
“No, what about y-” I tried to protest, but Harry shook his head quickly.
“Angela” he said as he began to button up my shirt.
“They’ll take you away” my voice cracked. No, they’ll take him away. Away. Away, it echoed in my head, making my mind whizz and whirr.
“They’ll take me if they see you. Now go down the steps from over the balcony” he said as he led me to the balcony.
“Skip the third step, it’s broken. And turn left at the bottom” he ordered.
I looked down the spiral staircase. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go. I refused to go without him. I turned around.
“But Harry, when will I see-” I tried to ask but he pressed his lips against mine and quieted me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer, wishing I had half his strength and could keep him hostage in my arms- as he could do with me.
He eased my arms off of him and held my hands in his. I stared into his green eyes. He was afraid. I could see it. But he was not about to show it. He was determined not to go down without a fight.
He looked at me, looked at me as if it were his last glance, like he was moments away from his last glance. And he wanted his last glance to be of something- something golden.
“Angela, I’ll see you soon, ok” he said as he got me to go down the stairs.
I went slowly, begrudgingly.
I made it to the bottom. The police sirens screamed bloody Mary in my ears. My heart caught in my throat.
Red and blue lights flashed, blinding me.
In the distance, I saw a tall, lean figure running.
Men in dark uniforms clustered around the figure, aiming objects I refused to pronounce.
The figure ran. He ran toward me and I ran to him. I could see his face. His shining ivory skin in the rising dawn. His marble-like pale green-grey eyes shone brightly. His white t shirt was unbuttoned. He didn’t have his jacket, his armor.
Then he stopped.
As did I.
I could barely make out the sign: the corner of 21st and H street.
A shot rang in the air.
Something in my chest stopped and shattered.
The shot missed him by a sliver.
Another shot rang in the air and grazed his knee. He staggered back- losing a bit of his balance.
I fell to my knees, crawling toward him.
“Harry” I whispered with the limited breath still left in my lungs.
Another shot hit his chest- point blank on his heart.
I swallowed, but it tasted like blood.
Then I saw him. I saw him on the cold, wet grass. Crimson blood spilled down the front of his chest, staining his white shirt.
I propped him up against my lap, wrapping my arms around him, keeping him together. My eyes glazed with tears, clouding my vision. And I was glad for that. If I truly saw the blood spilling from his body, I would never recover.
“Angela” he whispered in his hoarse voice. I kissed his cheek, his neck, his dimples. I wasn’t ready to let go. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. I’ll never be ready, I kept repeating in my head.
“Harry” I cried. I put my hand over the bullet in his chest, praying that the bullet would disappear and the hole would close up somehow. “I’m sorry, Harry, I’m so, so sorry” I apologized, kissing his chest.
“Don’t be sorry” he said slowly. He toyed with a piece of my hair which had come over my eye.
I took his hand in mine and kissed it a thousand times.
“Harry, you’re going to be ok. You’re not going anywhere. You’re not leaving me” I told him, almost ordering him to stay put.
“You’re my trouble, Angie. And you’ve found me. You’ve found me and now I have to go” he whispered quietly. He smiled weakly. A tear fell from his crystalline green eyes and slid down his cheek. I kissed the tear just before it disappeared down his neck.
“NO! Harry, you’re not leaving. I won’t let you,” I shook my head hopelessly, then furiously.
“Fly away, Angie. You can be free,” he whispered in a sing-song voice, closing and opening his eyes every few moments. He watched me with such optimism and hope, that it made me want to cry even more.
I nodded immediately.
“No, Harry,” I shook my head violently.
“I will never leave you,” I repeated in a shaking voice.
He smiled and his dimples showed through.
I wrapped my arms around his head, hiding my face in his neck as my own tears became uncontrollable. He laughed lightly as my hair tickled his Adam’s apple slightly.
I love his laugh.
Then he was quiet. His eyes fluttered. Then they closed. He was quiet.
I stared at him as if he had committed a crime. Of the list of things they had convicted him for, the only real crime he had committed in my book was being human and being blinded by his heart.
I pressed my ear to his chest and heard nothing. I pressed harder, ripping the rest of his shirt off as if that was what had gotten in my way.
His face, so beautifully carved was now so serene. I kissed his eyelids and lay down next to him in the grass.
There, on the corner of 21st and H street.