War Lips (Harry Styles A.U.)

Chapter 2

I had woken up with a start. My experienced hands automatically reached over the side of the bed to where Harry usually slept.

He wasn't there.

Out of frustration I began to cry. Silence was screaming into my skull. God! How could I have left Harry to go to such ill war?! Mrs. Sterling's husband had the died just last week from a bombing from the Nazi's. Yet, no so far from that horrific death, Mary Ann had her boyfriend wounded and in critical condition. I had made a mistake. A very grave mistake. Had I not let Harry talk that moment as my heart beated with urgency, trying to signal me to change the whole conversation. Never have spoken a word, if I had just listen to my heart.

I began to sweat at an incredible pace while tears just flowed out. I was hurting so much, I was sure in that moment they were blood. My knees were up and hugged by me tightly. Who would take care of me now? Harry was go. Did he even care about the real danger of leaving me alone?!

"Em-?... what is it?!" The beautiful voice. Harry. The way his serenaded voice was full of concern made me sit up and reach my hands out into the dark like a child wanting their parent. "Dear God, Emma!" I felt arms around me, firmly and a chest, his chest on my face. I could hear his alarming heart beat fast and his breathing rise faster as well. "What happened?! Did you hurt yourself?" Then he was gone. But his chest was replaced by his rough, gentle hands wiping my tears away.

"Harry," my voice cracked. I had no way of telling him without crying. How selfish I was! He wanted to fight war for me and I throw a childish fit!

"Em, darling, what was it?" His breathing was hard, the tension was high at the moment. But I twisted my fingers into the front of his shirt, making sure he was real and stayed for just this moment.

" I thought you had left!" I managed to say my fear without crying so much.

"Aw babe!" His voice went shaky and high. His hands left my face again. But I twisted my fingers harder into his shirt so he could not leave. Then his strong arms were wrapped around me tightly and my face in the crock of his neck.

"You are so brave Harry. For going to this war." My voice shook as I said that to him.

"I know, but I'm not brave enough to endure what will happen once I do go." He kissed the side of my head.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving my beautiful wife, alone and unguarded. I know you are capable of doing it on your own but I know how men are." I giggled as I kissed his neck.

"Harry, but I know my place. Can't you just give me that much?" I was dependent upon him because of my health state but that didn't mean I was not able to defend myself or know what was my place. My place was with him, my husband.

"Sorry, Emma. I just know men are so jealous with the wife I love and have."

"I'm not a possession." He kissed the top of my head.

"That's why I'm your possession and you're my queen." I laughed, wiping my wet face with the back of my hand.

"I made you breakfast actually... but you were crying so I thought you wouldn't like the pancakes I made you..." I immediately squealed.

"No! Please! I want!" He chuckled and he was gone. I then felt his powerful arms scoop under my knee. I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck, knowing where it was. He carried me to the kitchen. There, he sat me down. The scent of pancakes filling my lungs and my heart.

"Good morning my queen." His pouted lips were on my cheek while his hands placed the silverware utensils in my hands. I giggled.

"Good morning my king."

****************

He was leaving. Today. During breakfast he had told me they had recruited him faster than he had anticipated. He would be going to Auschwitz. Where was that? He had told me Germany. Harry had also promised to write to me every day. Right now, sitting next to these wives who were all sobbing, here or there were another that was cheering and acting proud, I wanted to be strong for my husband. And I will be.

"Harry Styles!" The loud voice was thick with authority. I heard footsteps.

They were loud, sharp, crisps footsteps. Harry.

"Yes sir!" I kept my head held high up. My husband needed me to be his anchor at this moment.

The ceremony went on, quite short one actually. This was the last time I could tell him goodbye. I glided my aluminum stick on the floor to know where I was going and to not hit anything or anyone. I finally reached over to Harry. He pulled me in a long embrace. We both cried. We cried so much, he laughed after, saying how he needed to be strong for me. God, how could I not fall in love all over again with him?

"I'll write, Emma. I swear!" His voice became distant and muffled by the cries of women and the screams of men promising to come back.

"Goodbye Harry..." I had gotten home with the help of his mom who had gone to see her son before war. Right when I closed the door behind me, I fell to the floor.

Harry! Why did I even let you go?! I should have taken advantage of this morning to stop you! Tears streamed out as my frustration became greater. Don't forget me! Harry! I began to scream and cry on the floor. No. No! I could feel a hole on my heart. It was real. It did not break, just had a missing hole.

The missing hole of my heart, he had taken with him to war.