The Me You Can't See (H.S)

58

Harry's POV:

Just saying those words feels like my heart is being ripped out of my body. Like I'm being stabbed by a million pins and needles all of which are aimed at my heart.

I've been thinking about this for a while now, how I could even begin to get myself out of the mess that I created. But after wracking up my brain until I couldn't any longer I realized that I couldn't. Despite what I told Liam, what I told myself, I know there isn't anything I can do to make this right.

Please don't humour me, because at the end of the day even you know I'm telling the truth.

"God I need a drink." I stand up fighting back the tears threatening to spill on my way to find the bottle of liquor I have hidden somewhere.

Silence fills the air for the next several seconds that pass and I pour myself a drink much larger than I should. "You want me to take her?" he questions.

I turn around to look at him, and I stand leaning against the table with my hands crossed as I shake my head "No. I don't want you to take her, I need you to take her."

Grabbing another glass and the bottle of the dark liquor, I sit back down and pour Zayn a drink of his own. Handing him the glass, he takes it with shaky hands before bringing it to his lips.

"Why not just tell her the truth? She'd leave on her own. I don't understand why you're going through all this trouble when it would all be over if you just told her." he questions.

"I won't be able to and this is the only way I know-how. I don't want to know when you leave, I don't want to know where you're going, I want you to make her forget me. Out of sight, out of mind." I choke back the words. "But I can't be the one to tell her, I physically can't. When you tell her the truth she needs to hate me, and I can't do that by making excuses for myself, which I will if I'm the one to tell her. I need you to make her hate me more than she could ever love me."

I wipe the single tear that has fallen from my eyes sniffling my nose. Zayn looks at me and I mean really looks at me. Studying my features to make sure I'm really telling the truth, trying to decipher if he can trust me.

"I won't help you. But I will help her" he say the words I was simultaneously dreading and anticipating. "But you forget that I also work for Malcolm."

"Not anymore". I tell him and his eyes shoot to mine.

"What are you talking about?" he questions, grabbing the file from the drawer beside his bed I hand it to him.

Inside the folder is the incident report from the warehouse. Names of victims, the injured, and most importantly the deceased, which is where Zayn's name is under.

"I replaced your body with another, made sure to model the injuries you had even though you'd gotten significantly worse since the last time I'd seen you. Tattoos and piercings all match from what I could tell. As far as he's concerned you were one of the victims." I whisper, watching as his eyes glaze over.

"I don't get it." he spits out before taking his bottom lips between his teeth. "What does this mean?"

"It means he thinks you're dead. It means you don't have to work for him anymore. I know you only kept working for him to protect Haven, but he knows she's alive. And you know as well as I do that he was never going to keep you alive." my eyes stay locked on his as his own scan the document.

His hands shake and not from the pain or exhaustion. I don't let him come to terms with what I said before handing over another file. He remains silent as he opens it and I can tell he's waiting for me to explain.