"Should we bring him to the hospital?" I ask Louis from the backseat, Harry laying his head on my lap and looking silently up at the ceiling of the car.
Harry hasn't said one word since he came back from his death. He has been dead silent, staring into space like something was prohibiting him from communicating and it's scaring the hell out of me. We managed to walk him I the car and got him to lay down in the backseat, but he won't say anything.
"No, he's just in shock. He'll be fine if we just get him into the warmth." Louis says from the divers seat, looking back at me through the rear view mirror.
I run my hand repeatedly over his forehead to run the wet hair off his head, looking down at him with glossy eyes.
His skin was pale, his dark lips were still a bit purple and parted slightly. His eyes were light green, but looking like their was so much hiding underneath them. He looked like he's seen so much more to life from when I looked in these same eyes earlier today.
"Harry, please say something." I whisper down to him on my lap.
He doesn't move, just blinking every once in a while. His vision is stuck to the roof of the car and out the sunroof, almost like its got him in a trance. I was so worried; I hope this was just something resulting from the shock and it will wear off soon.
"God baby you're going to be okay." I whisper while crouching over to plant a kiss on his icy wet forehead. His skin was so cold, the pigment so pale and ghostly.
I kiss his cold lips to try and get him to communicate somehow, but he doesn't kiss me back. He keeps his lips frozen like a wax figure- I feel like I'm not even looking at the same man whom I've known so well.
I know he's in shock, he just went through a traumatic situation. But I can't not worry about him when he's like this. He's like a robot. Louis and I were trying to resuscitate him to bring his soul back in his body- to resurrect him. And when we did, I was over the moon. But when I look into these corrupted eyes, it makes me feel like he's still not alive- like his soul is still gone from his body and he's just a bunch of breathing organs and bones.
I stroke his cheek with my thumb, can't help but let the tear escape my eye. I sniffle lightly, watching him stare up through the car's sunroof. The cut on his temple was washed from any visible blood, leaving just the nasty cut. It didn't look too deep- but I hope he didn't need stitches. I'll have to get a second opinion from Louis and Niall later.
"You Mr. Styles, sure know how to cheat death." I try to lighten the situation by smiling a bit at my comment. Thinking back to all the times Harry has been in a life or death situation boggles me. He has incredible luck to be alive after all this time.
We eventually get to the house and we both walk Harry inside to Niall sitting on the couch with the fire going. He looks at our direction and widens his eyes immediately. He stands straight up, a grey shirt hugging his body and loose grey track pants.
"What the fuck happened!" He walks over to us.
"It's a lot to fucking explain. You and I need to go on a search for someone." Louis says.
"I'll take him Louis." I whisper, referring to taking Harry upstairs. He nods and lets go of him, Harry's left arm still draped over my shoulders.
"We are going to go out and look for the prick in the area- making sure he isn't hiding out around here anywhere." Louis says while Niall gets on his shoes.
"Don't you want to get out of wet clothes?" I ask as Harry and I head to the stairs.
"No I'll be fine, their drying. It's already almost dark." He shakes his head.
"Okay- just be carful." I mumble while stepping up the stairs with Harry.
I get up the stairs and to our bedroom, shutting the door behind us and walking him to the edge of the bed. He still hasn't said a single word, and I'm getting more and more worried. But right now I just need to focus on getting him out of these wet clothes.
I sit him down, his head turns to stare out the window blankly. I start to undo his damp shirt, pulling the green ripped flannel off his broad shoulders. The shirt was all torn in the back, making me arch my brow. I look up at him and see how his eyes still haven't moved from the window. I walk around him and kneel on the bed to see his back is all scratched up. I suck in a sharp breath between my teeth at the pain he must've been in flying down that current.
"God.." I murmur under my breath. The cuts weren't deep to the point where he needed stitches or anything, but they still looked painful.
"You're home now okay? Things are going to be fine." I whisper while kissing his cold forehead.
I pull him back to his feet so he stands tall again, his frozen eyes still on the window. I undo his pants and pull down his wet jeans. They pull to his ankles and he takes initiative to step out of them himself.
I walk over to the dresser and grab his pair of black track pants. I looked for his red flannel he wears all the time, but I remembered I washed it and it was sitting in the dryer still.
"I'm going to go grab you a warm shirt." I turn back to him, walking over to place the track pants on the bed next to where he stood. "Stay here." I half smile, walking out of the room.
I go downstairs to the laundry room, opening up the dryer to the previous load I was doing. I see the warm red and grab it, walking back up the stairs to our bedroom again.
When I open the door, I'm surprised to see that Harry got changed into the track pants himself. It makes me feel a bit better because at least I know he isn't completely lost to the point were he can't dress himself.
I smile lightly and walk over to him with the shirt in my hand. I shake the shirt open and bring it to his back, putting his arms through it and slowly buttoning it halfway up his body.
The material covers his muscled body to keep him warm. I run my hand up to his shoulder, looking up at him looking out the window.
"Let's go sit by the fire so you can warm up. I don't want you getting sick again. I'll just get changed first." I whisper, running my hands up the side of his neck. He doesn't respond, but I don't expect him to- I'm just glad he can move.
I walk back over to the dresser and strip from my clothes. Once I get down to just my bra and underwear, I turn my head back to see him still staring out the window. He never doesn't watch me when I get changed. But yet he was acting like I wasn't even there. Usually he will burn his eyes on me with that playful smirk on his face, but not this time. I get into his black shirt and a pair of my black leggings, untucking my wet hair from the fabric.
I take his hand and lead him out of the bedroom. His hands were so cold and his fingers were limp. This all reminds me of months ago when Harry had to take care of me when he brought me back to the apartment from the holding cell. I was pumped with ketamine at the time and would speak a word to him.
How things change.
I get him to the living room and sit him down on the carpet in front of the roaring fire Niall put together earlier. I walk over and grab the blanket on the couch, bringing it to Harry's back so it sitting draped on his broad shoulders. I sit down and turn myself to face him, my side facing the warm fire. His eyes stay glued to the flames, his features quiet and undisturbed.
"Harry... please tell me what you're thinking." I begin, my hand extending out to sit on his leg. "It's killing me to see you like this." I whisper.
He stays silent, analyzing the fire like he's never seen a flame before. The orange light illuminating his face in the dark.
"Would you just like me to leave you alone for a bit? I'll understand." I say in sincerity. I'm not going to be hurt if he wants me to leave. He just went through a traumatic experience, and if he wants to be alone with his thoughts for a bit then I get it. I'm not going to take any of this to heart and think he's trying to hurt my feelings. He needs to cope, and if his way of doing it is by himself then I respect that. I just want him to get better.
I take his impending silence as a yes. I carefully reach my hand forward and brush the hair back from the side of his face, following my head towards him and kissing the side of his temple softly. His skin was still ice under my pecked lips. My hand was firm on the back of his damp head as I did this, just wishing he would relax.
With the final peck on his temple, I go to pull myself back so I can leave him be for a while. He was so distraught and tired looking, he definitely needed to sleep. When I separated myself from his side and started to stand up on the plan of leaving, I felt the familiar grip snap around my nimble wrist. I looked down at his hand firmly grasped around my forearm, not wanting to budge it. I trailed my eyes back to his face to suddenly see him looking up at me for the first time in what feels like forever. His green eyes were darker and I didn't even realize they were welting with tears.
"P-please don't go." His broken voice rasped in desperation.
I felt my mouth go dry and my body run with a painful shiver, he looked like he was about to breakdown in tears but tried so hard to keep it in.
"O-okay I'm not going anywhere," I say in partial shock from his sudden sense of plead.
I sit back down facing his side again, his hand still holding my arm like I was going to bolt any moment. He faced the fire again and shut his eyes, a single tear rolling down his rosy cheek.
"Hey don't cry." I whisper while inching closer and resting my hand on his opposing cheek, turning his direction towards me.
I've only seen this emotional side of Harry a very few amount of times in my life. He is not a cryer and decides to keep his emotions in rather then talk them out. When he cries, I know it's something really bothering him. Me on the other hand, I cry a lot. Every time we fight I cry at some point.
His eyes remained shut and his eyebrows were furrowed together to create tension on his olive skin. I felt my heart breaking for seeing his emotional wall break down, feeling myself start to get teary just from watching him like this. I turn his whole body to face me from his legs, gently crawling over to sit on his lap and bring his forehead to my shoulder, holding his built body tightly.
"You need to tell me what's wrong." I whisper while holding the back of his damp head.
He wasn't crying to the point where their was hyperventilation or anything. He was silent, only letting a few sniffles become audible. He quietly let the tears fall down his cheeks and burn into the shoulder of my shirt while I held the back of his head and circled my other on the space between his shoulder blades.
I felt his large palm press to my lower back, his other hand resting on my thigh as he gave into my embrace.
The burning fire was heating us up as he decided to stay silent into my shoulder. I'm so worried about him, I want to know what's making him so upset. Was it the experience of drowning? Or the long fall off the bridge? These things seem so scary to me, but I don't know if it would make him cry. Harry never gets upset over something physical that happens to him, he is usually so strong over that stuff. I watched him be tied to a chair and absolutely beaten to the bone and he didn't let one tear slip, that is until he saw me with a gun to my head.
He never cries in pain.
He would only ever cry in emotion.
"Harry," I lift his head up off my shoulder by my two hands firmly on his wet cheeks, revealing his bloodshot eyes and inflamed skin that covered the sadness underneath. "What happened? It's killing me to see you this upset when I don't even know why." My voice starts to become choppy in emotion.
His face held exhaustion and his eyes withhold trauma. I flick my sight back and forth between his two irises, not deciding what one I wanted to stay on. His dark lips parted to breath more steadily and he didn't take his gaze away from mine. The silence was deafening between us, I swear I could hear the sound of his racing heart.
"M-my mother died." He stutters.
I take a moment to analyze his words, not being able to understand. I wait for him to further explain but he doesn't, he just leaves me with that one sentence. Although those three words can be life changing to anyone, Harry already knew this; he had told me this before. He told me his mother died from a drug overdose when he was ten and he didn't care at all because she treated him and his sister like garbage.
"But you already know this." I say quietly, my eyebrows knitted together a bit.
"She died b-because her kids were taken away from her. She died because I ran out of that house one day t-to get help. She died because of me Amelia. She killed herself because of me." He spills out, tears falling down his crimson cheeks.
I don't know what to do or say in this fragile moment, simply because I have no clue how he got this information. Did he always know this and he's just thinking about it again?
"Why have you never told me this?" I ask quietly, moving my one hand from his cheek and brushing the hair back from the side of his head.
"Because I didn't know until today." He whispers like he didn't even want me to hear.
I arch my brow as his eyes narrow to our laps. I'm trying to connect the dots but their weren't enough to connect. For once in my life, I have no clue what to possibly ask next.
"H-how?" Is all the escapes my lips.
He takes a moment, sniffling a few before looking back up at me with the same calm yet distraught expression.
"I was dead," The words left his tainted lips like common phrase. "I was dead and I got to see part of the afterlife. I saw my sister, and I got to venture into my daunting past to see my mother. The woman who I thought hated us as much as our father, fought with him everyday on our behalf. She had issues, but she actually loved us. Axel beat her down every single fucking day when she tried to reach out to us- but she never stopped." He spills out all the information I've been clawing at to hear and now that I've heard it, I feel just as lost as him.
"You didn't kill your mother. You ran that day because you were scared and didn't have a choice. You ran to get help for you and your sister." I feel my eyes start to get teary as my vision gets hazy, just picturing Harry as a child running from his abusive father.
"My sister killed herself because I wasn't there for her. And my mother died of a drug overdose because I ran to the authorities. Any person that ever cared a fraction for me has died because of me!" His voice starts to get more raised and thick, like he's becoming more and more flustered. "And eventually I'm going to do the same thing to you and you'll leave me like they did!" He yells, tears gushing down his face as pure hurt floods his eyes.
"Harry stop-"
"I am a fucking shit show! I don't understand how you can be with me when I am the way I am because eventually I'm just going to corrupt you like I've corrupted everyone else in my fucking life!" His cheeks become inflamed as he gets more and more angry with himself.
"Harry enough!" I shout back, making him throw his head forward on my shoulder again in tears.
I hold the back of his head and feel tears start escaping down my own cheeks. Before I know it, I'm crying and more then him. I hate it when he says these types of things about himself. He is notorious for seeing only the bad in himself and it's awful for me to hear.
"You had so many chances to run." He coaxed into my shoulder, his voice so weak.
I widen my eyes and bring his head back to look at me.
"What are you t-talking about?" I say in fear of his answer.
"You had so many fucking chances to flee from me. You still could. I gave you so many times to run from your kidnapper and you didn't." He murmurs under his tears.
I sit dumbfounded on his lap, not knowing where any of these depressing words are coming from.
"Harry. You're not my kidnapper anymore, do you understand that? I know I had so many chances to run, but running was never an option for me because I love you. Did you give me all these chances because you wanted me to run?" I ask with shakiness in my voice, partially scared for his answer.
"Of course not- I don't know what I'd do if you left me, but look at our lives. Ive trapped you in this dangerous atmosphere and I wouldn't blame you for wanting to leave it all behind." He says in misery, breaking my heart.
"You need to relax. I'm not going anywhere because I don't want to go without you. I love you and I know things for us could be hard outside this house, but I wouldn't give you up so I can 'leave it all behind'." I shake my head, staring into his broken tranquillizing eyes.
He takes in all my words, looking at me in a way I can't comprehend what is going on in that carnival like mind of his. He obviously had some traumatic experience during the short amount of time he wasn't breathing, and I can only tell him so much to make him feel better. I wasn't there during this experience, it's hard to talk someone down from a spiritual experience they had.
"I don't deserve you after everything I've done." His worlds are choppy with affection, his tone quieter then a pin drop.
With the sound of the calming crackling fire and the desperate sincerity in his voice, I never felt so tangled in the ropes of his love. From the moment we met my heart was on my sleeve and now he had it safe in his soul; and that's why he became a piece of me. I was so terrified of loosing him to death today because once he died, my heart died with him. It could be obsessive, it could make me insane- but I didn't care, it was to late to care.
My thumbs wiped the tears under his eyes, feeling how hot his skin was all the sudden. He kept his eyes drilled to me, watching my every expression like this was the first time he's ever looked at me. His face was lit from the fire, everywhere around us was dark now from the sun going down. Between the pitch black around us and the fire being the only source of light, it just made me realize more that it will always just be him and I against the world. And as cliché as the sounds, it never felt more fitting to the situation.
His hand was rested on my back while the other was firm on my thigh. I looked at him in undeniable love, hoping he understood my thoughts without the words leaving my lips. His breathing was calm and heavy at the same time. It was a strange mix but I was quick to realize my breathing was the same. We both looked worn out, coming down from our emotions.
He gazed into my puffy eyes with his own bloodshot ones that were masking his usual bright green. Our breaths collide as his face inches closer and closer to mine.
The side of his nose softly ran across the side of mine, his eyes staring down to my lips. The anticipation of his actions makes my heart race and my limbs weak. I looked at his red eyes as he looked at my parted lips, our foreheads fragile touching. I watched him intently, my mind eager for his next movement. His face was so relaxed but his jaw was still prominent. His cheeks were red from the heat of the fire and his brunette locks started to dry from the humidity of the room.
His bottom lip barely brushed against mine, the feeling of his lip ring gliding against my upper lip.
His lips finally pressed to my own, a sharp inhale coming with it as his hand moved from my thigh and cupped my damp cheek. My eyes closed as I was lost in the darkness of my mind with his lips being the only thing giving me comfort. He kept them still for a moment, then slowly moved them with mine patiently. I left both of my hands on his hot cheeks as we kissed each other like it was something so much more then just a shape of desire.
It was out of love.
His lips moved so slowly and tranquil, leading the kiss through emotion. The deepness of the kiss was enough to make goosebumps run across my arms and legs as he moulded our mouths together with no sense of urgency. His thumb was stroking so softly along the surface of my cheekbone as he breathed out into my mouth.
He froze for a moment, pressing our foreheads together and separating our swollen lips only by a millimetre or two.
My eyes opened to see his vision attached to mine, both of us calmly catching our breath in this moment.
"Let me show you how much I love you- how much you mean to me." His raspy voice was enough to convey warmth deep in my stomach.
//
long ass chapter holy moly rip my hands