• Chapter 56 •
“Do you trust Crow?” he asked me after a little bit, making me pull away and scoff.
“No. Do you?” I asked, turning to look at his blank face. There was a soft warmth over his eyes that I loved.
“No, he seems fishy.” he replied coolly. “Either way, you’re leaving with a gun from here, you might need it.”
My stomach tightened at the mention of a gun hanging in my waistband but it is something I really do need on my mission to leave this place. Maybe I could just ask him to escort me to the train station and let me walk away without risking my life out on the streets. My plan seems perfect the way it is but if Harry indeed wants to help me, why should I go for the run?
“His girlfriend seems to dislike you.” he noticed, playing with the packet of cigarettes in his hands.
“Yeah well, I don’t like her either.”
“Was it that bad with me? Staying with me?” he asked with a perplexed expression, ticking his head slightly to the side. “Wasn’t I good enough, was there anything missing that you needed—,“
“Just your obsession over killing politicians. We could’ve had an amazing runaway if you had listened to me for once.”
He pursed his lips and looked away in thought. “Maybe I was wrong about you. I thought you were the same as me, that our visions for the future are matching but it’s obviously nothing like that, right?”
I nodded, knowing he can see me from the corner of his eye. “You could have an amazing, peaceful life, Harry.” my voice came out soft, making him turn and look at me with curiosity. “You have so much money, you can do anything you want in the world.”
“I know what I want to do.” he said dryly, finally picking out a cigarette and lighting it up, taking a long hint. “I’ve been planning this for years, everything will go as planned, I know it will. If you ever change your mind, you’re always welcomed to join me.”
“Do you really love me, Harry?” I asked just as he finished his sentence, looking at him through narrowed eyes.
“Undoubtedly.”
“Then why were you fucking that girl?” my tone switched to harsh.
He shrugged, releasing smoke from his mouth. “Don’t really know, I was high,” he replied coolly. “She meant nothing though.”
A faint version of the rage I felt that day roamed through my body, my insides pinching and heat rolling through my chest. Maybe one of his cigarettes could help me relax, these little shits were made for a reason.
“I would take it back, if I could.”
“Why?”
“It had no meaning, it shouldn’t had happened.”
“But it did.”
“I’m a sinner, I admit.”
“You believe in God?”
“Somebody is out there watching over us, we’re still alive after everything.” he replied easily before taking a hint of his cigarette again.
“Do you pray?”
He chuckled. “Don’t you?”
“Some times.”
“What is it that you pray for?”
“Happiness. Freedom.”
“We have different meanings for these words.” he muttered thoughtfully.
“I guess so. What do you pray for?”
“Redemption.”
My eyes widened at his response as I was expecting the word ‘forgiveness’ to roll off his tongue. He looked deep in thought and concentration, many ideas and images of the past probably rewinding before his distant forest green eyes.
“Have you ever thought about the day you’ll die?”
I was taken aback by the question, caught off guard. Of course I have, more than once, some times I even wished I had the balls to commit suicide. Thing is, I never got what I wanted, so I kept fighting for it until my soul could rest in peace. If I don’t get my freedom and happiness, I will not draw my last breath.
“I hope I’ll die in my sleep when I'm old.”
“I’d rather die young. Being old is a fucking torture for yourself and other’s that take care of you — if there is anyone.”
“You’re still not taking your meds, aren’t you?” I asked sternly, my eyws hard on him again.
“I’m not crazy, Rosalia.” he responded tightly, tapping his cigarette lightly softly the ashe at the end of it could drop on the ground. “Those pills don’t do shit ’cause I’m not ill.” He then looked at me with brows raised. “I think you know what I mean.”
He sent me mentally back to the first days of therapy. Dr.Cane was so confused and angry about my case that he kept changing the pills frequently, trying to find the ‘right ones’ to get my head straight. Turns out he realized that medicine isn’t the proper solution. I remember him clearly saying: “she doesn’t need pills, she needs love”.
When I didn’t respond, Harry huffed. “We are so the same, I should have that tattooed on me.”
“You barely have empty spots to write that down.”
“I’ll find one.”
Strong breeze hit me again, making me shiver. He noticed me struggling and pressed the cigarette on the concrete, turning it off.
“Let’s go to bed, it’s late.” he urged, picking up his packet of cigarettes and the Airpod case.
A small part of me hoped he would join me to bed but another one had me holding my ground on staying solid and serious about the whole ‘stay away from him’ plan. Walking down the stairs, I could hear some faint voices from the living room. Just as I walked down the hallway with Harry following after me, I caught with a glance Elijah sitting at the couch in the living room, eyes focused on the TV, a beer in his hand, the rest of the bodyguards hanging around him. I wonder how he would react if he saw Harry tearing up. And why they fuck are they still up?
Right outside the door of what used to be ‘our’ bedroom, we came to a halt. Harry looked at me with puppy eyes that had my heart tightening painfully, my entire body craving for his presence back in the bed. Fuck it, I'm leavimg either way.
“Won’t you come?” I asked lightly, wrapping my hand around the doorknob.
His eyes lit up, not expecting me to invite him. “You want me with you?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, trying to suppress his relief. “After you.”
Opening the door, I felt a strong wave of lust and sexual tension hitting me. The room was dark, a ray of moonlight decorating the bed, shadows casting on the walls. Harry’s tall presence filled the room as he moved towards the bed, discarding his shoes by the nightstand and slowly stripping off his clothes. I tried to ignore the burn of longing moving in circles in my stomach and the heat flowing down between my legs. This is one of the things I’m going to miss the most when I’m gone; the way he makes me feel without even trying.
Getting in bed with him felt odd. I was kinda frustrated with myself for letting my guards down but also excited to feel his breath next to me. I kept trying to remind myself that he is a maniac, a heartless monster that kills children as part of a plan, but each look at his soft face only had me melting for him.
“I’m supposed to wake up early tomorrow, do you mind the alarm?” he asked quietly, scrolling through his phone, the bright light shining over his face.
“It’s fine.” I assured, pulling the blanket to my chest.
“It’s 3 fucking a.m.” He grumbled, settling his phone on the nightstand and pulling the blanket to him. “Won’t you stay till the end? All my favorite conversations always made in the a.m.” he sang softly, making me look at him with wide eyes.
“You have quite a nice voice, haven’t you thought of becoming a popular singer?” I asked, turning on my side to stare at him.
He chuckled and put his hands behind his head. “The music industry is fucked up. After all, you have an amazing voice and I never got to hear the full song you wrote.”
Surprised he still remembered that song, I felt grateful that he wanted to hear something I created. Truth is, whenever somebody heard me sing, they liked my voice. I have to sing for so long. I forgot how much I love doing it.
“The song is lame.”
“How did it go? Some nights like this baby I can’t help — no, shawty I can’t help but think of us, right?” he tried to recall the lyrics, looking at me with furrowed brows.
“Yeah.” I chuckled, amused.
“I’ve been, reminiscing sipping missing ya,” he sang on, looking up at the ceiling. “Can you, tell me what’s with all this distant love? If I called would you pick it up?”
I couldn’t believe he remembered the lyrics and the rythm I sang it so perfectly clear. “How do you remember?”
“Your voice has been replaying in my head ever since I heard you sing.” he admitted softly. “Honestly? It helps me sleep at night.”
“Bullshit.”
“Believe whatever, I have no reason to lie.”
How do I know that, Harry?
“So you think of me when you can’t sleep?”
“There’s no minute I haven’t thought of you.” he admitted sheepishly, wiping his face although there was nothing there. “From the moment I saw you in that cell...you really are beautiful.”
Pretty pretty pretty.
The sincere honesty and smooth tone of his voice made him look so angel-like. I have never seen Harry so soft. I couldn’t believe in my own eyes that this is actually Harry talking. Sleep tickled my eyes as I yawned, the pressure of mixed emotions overwhelming me to the point I felt exhausted. He looked at me with a gentle smile, stretching his arm out to welcome me to his embrace. For the last time. I accepted and moved towards him, smiling at the loving feeling of his warm arm around me.
“You are the best thing that has happened to me, Rose.” he whispered, his fingers drumming softly on my back. “You really are.” were the last words I heard before I closed my eyes, feeling totally peaceful and happy.
For the last time.
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A/N: can’t believe we are so close to the end... be ready.