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"the soul contains wrecked land and hope"
xxx
He couldn't sleep.
The lily had played on his mind since he saw first saw it—and it had been dark for a while now. His eyes had been closed this whole time, but not once had sleep arrived to kiss his mind to rest and take him away from this life for a night. Pulling the scratchy sheets to his shoulders, hiding his arms beneath them, he stared at the ceiling—although there was nothing really to stare at.
Any details of the old, old ceiling were far beneath this looming, obscure cloud of darkness. He turned his head to the right, away from Mia, and the shadow was even greater, even colder, to the point where he couldn't tell if his eyes were really open or not. If the dark was a liquid then the hospital wing was flooding—and he was drowning. There were no words going through his head, either. Just that lily, that vibrant, red lily, and this sunken feeling in his heart—too heavy to keep him afloat. Outside, it began raining.
And he felt colder than ever.
Fear clawed at his insides with its sharp nails as the sound of rustling sheets made his heart leap and head snap to his left.
Beneath the moonlight, igniting the dark, lay Mia, who had rolled over to face him. He could only just make out her head, her hair, her arms on top of her sheets, as though he was in so deep underwater, and she was above the surface, her rippling image leaning over the edge, dipping her hand in the cold, cold water for him.
He didn't know how she could see him—if she could see him at all—sinking further and further into the dark. She said something, though, and as her soft voice interlaced with the soft lull of the rain, he, slowly, so slowly, but surely, found himself floating up to her.
"Hm?"
"Are you okay?" She asked, and the rain got louder. "You started breathing really quickly."
"Oh, um." He spoke quietly, matching her level. It was strange not needing to put so much effort into his voice for another to hear him. And, in the dark, he found that the truth had rolled from his tongue before he could think of a lie. "I'm not okay, no."
And his heart felt a little lighter.
"Is it about earlier? What you saw in the book?"
He was silent, and for a moment, a long moment, all they heard was the rain. But it wasn't an awkward silence like it could have been at any other time. It was calm, and with every word he said, and every word he heard escape her own lips, he neared the surface a little bit more.
"It was a lily," He finally said. "My mum's name."
And suddenly she remembered who he is. Who is really is—a Potter. Potter. James and Lily Potter. He watched as she sat up a little.
"Harry, I...I'm so sorry, I never should've—"
"It's not you, Mia. Don't say sorry." He insisted gently, and she lay back down, the two drawing comfort from the white noise of the rain. He spoke slowly. "I miss them. A lot. And...well, I guess it's weird to miss them. It doesn't really make sense to miss them, I barely even remember them, really. I never got to know them."
"You don't have to know someone well to miss them," Mia spoke as he grew quiet. "You don't need a lot of memories with them either, I guess. You can miss the feeling of them, or the idea of them. Or what you could've had with them."
The rain filled the silence for a moment, and she continued. "It just means you love them."
He pushed through the water as the surface came closer and closer.
"...Have you lost someone too?" He asked.
"My granny," She spoke with a longing fondness, and he listened to each word. "I don't remember much of her...but I remember her smile. Her eyes would crinkle in the edges, and her hands were so soft. Those are all just snippets of memories, though—they're really vague, and barely even memories, I guess—more of a feeling, if anything. I was really young. And even though I don't know, like, what her favourite colour was or her middle name or her favourite song or anything she did when she was my age...I still miss her warmth. It's the only way I can describe her really. Warm."
"...I know what you mean. It's a little bit colder without them.'
"Yeah." She said.
He closed his eyes after a moment, still facing her. He was floating up, up, up—the surface was so close. So close. And his heart slowed for what felt like the first time that night. He was understood. He was understood.
He was almost asleep when she spoke again. The rain was loud; louder than ever before, but he heard every word. She, too, was half asleep, and surprised herself with what she asked.
"Do you wanna scoot your bed closer to mine?"
She had no idea where this sudden boldness had come from; why the dark had made her so open, and she bit on her cheek as he failed to respond for a little, though stopped as she heard his sheets rustle, and then a mix of someone walking and the squeaky wheels of the movable hospital wing beds. After a moment, his bed came into the moonlight as it nudged against her own, and he followed suit, slipping beneath the covers, facing her. With heavy eyelids, she put her open palm onto where the mattresses met. He put his hand in hers, and, suddenly, warmth returned to his body as his lungs drained, and he could finally breathe.
His head was above the water.
xxx
a/n:
hi lol here's another update <3
p.s. there's about 3 more chapters left of this book
