Legendary // H.S

66.

'No matter who you are or where you've been

He is watching from a screen

Keeps a keen eye on the in-between'

*

Harry is passed out on the sofa, a very angry bruise on his head that only deepens in colour with each passing minute. He's been like that since Zayn and Babz brought him back, never stirring in his sleep unless one of us checks his pulse out of fear that something too serious was hit in a bid to stop his rampage.

When he first arrived, I assumed he'd been hurt by someone in Hugo's team. There's a cut on the other side of his head, some dried blood having trickled down from a wound, but otherwise the only mark on him is the one left by Babz. I fretted over his unconscious body for an hour, refusing to leave his side, until I had to be dragged away to discuss what actually happened.

The thought of not being close to him at a moment like this felt selfish; I know that he'd want me nearby, he'd want me holding his hand and telling him that I'll never leave. We constantly reassure each other of our devotion to one another not because we need to hear it, but because it's how we communicate our love. While I haven't said those three words to him yet, I know he feels them through my actions.

So, to see him in this state, to witness Zayn carrying him in, both of them covered in splatters of blood, their skin shining in sweat; it broke me. Just as I did when he was stabbed, I panicked. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't hear, I could barely see. Everything started to darken around the edges as I cried over him, his chest eating up my sobs while he slept peacefully beneath me.

To lose Harry is not an option. To never have him wake up is impossible. For if he dies, I die with him. Not just in my soul, pieces of me stripped away as his life enters the stars, but in my whole being. Wherever he goes, I go. It's non-negotiable. After years of being ignored for my ambition and passion, he was the first person to truly see me. The first person to listen to my words and nurture them. I am not the girl I once was; she is a different person. And it's all for the better, because of Harry.

Of course, he's just resting. Something he needs more than anyone. He's spent countless nights awake with me while I writhe in the sheets during my nightmares, and he still continues to lead his team. Perhaps this rest will be good for him. I know that whatever he did will cause his own demons to battle any virtue in his mind. He'll blame himself for all the pain and sorrow, despite the people that it was inflicted on.

Hurting people isn't easy, but sometimes it's necessary. That's what he told me the first time I held a gun. The last thing I ever imagined doing was involving myself in a world where violence was the norm, but I understood fast that sometimes there was no choice in it. Harry is not the type to randomly start putting someone's life at risk; he'll only do so if he has to.

Babz recounted everything to me while Zayn promised to remain at Harry's side. The rest of the team had arrived in their absence and joined us in the hallway to discuss it. He told them not to cause serious harm. To only threaten. But then the fight broke out and all caution was thrown to the wind. When Harry finally realised that Hugo wasn't there, that he went through all of the turmoil for nothing, he lost it. Knocking him out was the only way of calming him.

I know when he wakes that fear will return, but I hope I can subdue it.

'So, they're all dead? Every single one of those fuckers in that building is gone?' Niall asks, leaning against the opposite wall. He's been distant since Harry returned, his mind processing the severity of his actions. We all accept that what Harry did will lead to consequences. There is a target on our backs like never before. Perhaps a bounty on our heads.