Deliverance [h.s.]

forty-seven | the art of letting go

I never had nobody and no road home

I wanna be somebody to someone

Someone To You || Banners

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Harry's P.O.V.

Elora Moore.

You do a lot of stupid shit when you're young; but Elora Moore is and forever will be my biggest regret.

I met her when I had stability for the first time in my life. I had just moved in with Steele, started doing true and honest work for him. I had everything I dreamed about at my fingertips but I wanted more, well actually; I wanted Moore.

Bad joke, moving on.

I was just dumb enough, desperate enough, to fawn over the first pretty girl who caught my eye. Unlucky enough for me, it was Elora Moore. The first months were sweet, heaven on earth in the form of a woman.

We spent nearly every waking moment together. When you spend that much time with someone, you think you know them like the back of your fucking hand. I thought I could trace the outline of her mind with my eyes closed. Looking back now, I lied to her more than I thought I was capable of but it was for a good cause.

She was pretty, innocent, soft; I didn't want to drag her through my chaos. That wasn't who she was and I had made peace with that. When something is important to you, when someone is important; you would go to the ends of the earth to protect them, whatever the cost may be, and so I did.

I kept the promises I made to her, both the ones I made to her face and the ones I said in silence. I promised her I'd stay faithful. I promised to only love her. I promised myself I would keep my shit away from her. I promised to protect her from what she knew and didn't know.

We started dating when I was 18 and eventually, when I had my own place with Jax, I asked her to move in with us. I was 19 years old, living with who i thought was the love of my life; it felt like a fucking dream.

I fell asleep with her, woke up next to her; yet somehow I never truly knew her but then again, she didn't know me either. She didn't know about my upbringing, how i was basically fucking little orphan annie. She didn't know about the foster care, the abuse, the cage. I kept her away from the beach, something in my heart telling me she didn't deserve to know those pieces of me.

Turns out; my gut feeling was right.

Two years together and I caught her with fucking some pussy she met on a dating app. Came home to find them in my fucking bed. She swore 'it wasn't what it looked like' and 'it was an accident' but I'm not too sure how you accidentally end up with another man's dick down your throat in your boyfriend's bed but alas, I digress.

In my mind, I killed them both. I made sure I killed her second so she could watch the monster she unleashed, see the version of myself I hid from her to protect her. But in reality; i threw her out, blocked her number and swore to never fall again.

And i didn't, i didn't fall for 6 fucking years; 6 long fucking years.

I used to wish she'd get hit by a bus or mauled by an angry, hungry bear. I hoped she'd experience a minor inconvenience when she was on her last strand of patience, sending her over the edge. I wanted her to fall so deeply in love, only for her partner to die in a tragic accident while she watched so she could be traumatized for life.

But now, I just wish she'd heal.

I wish she would find some fucking peace. I hope she never makes anyone hurt the way I did. I want her to do better, that what happened between us was a lesson learned and a personal vow to herself that she would be a decent fucking human from there on out.