Symphonies in E Minor

Chapter Twenty Eight: The Journey Home

Just a more calm, fluffy chapter to give our friends a break. As always, thank you for reading! We're almost at the end now

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Harry stretches beneath the sheets, turning his head to yawn. When he opens his eyes, he sees how bright the sun is outside. It may be closer to noon than he hoped. But if Ruhina and Faiz aren't knocking down their door, it shouldn't be much to be concerned about.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes and then glances to his side to see Aaliyah. Of course, he doesn't see her immediately. He feels her body on his left half though, and when he tries to raise his aim, he finds it's wedged between the mattress and her.

He assumes where her face is as he peels the duvet back to reveal her head. Slowly, she comes into view, her sleeping figure on top of him, her face pressed into his neck. Her nose is against his skin and she breathes softly, his nightshirt engulfing her body. She sleeps so peacefully, it breaks his heart. She deserves a good rest after everything she's been through.

He can't help but softly trace the roundness of her cheek with the back of his knuckles. She doesn't even twitch at the touch. Her cheek is warm, versus his cold fingers, thanks to being under the sheets for the majority of the night. He really doesn't understand how she's able to breathe so well under there. But if she's comfortable then she must be fine.

His finger drags down the bridge of her nose, just barely brushing across her eyelashes. Wandering up her brows. They're slightly scrunched together, which he immediately tries to relieve with a push of his thumb in between. The tension rolls away, but as soon as he pulls away, it returns.

He frowns as well. Is she not having a good dream? He hopes it's nothing like that.

He pushes the pad of his finger against her skin again, but this time the muscle doesn't give way. Instead, her arm draped over his bare torso twitches and she takes a shuddering breath in her sleep. She whimpers out just one word, the one that makes his body tense, his blood cold: "No."

He cups her cheeks gently, trying to sit up a bit. He looms over her the best he can. "Hey."

Her hand turns into a fist against his ribcage. "Please. Leave him."

His pulse quickens. She sounds so broken, so far away.

"Aaliyah," he says again, louder, wrapping an arm over her waist, tugging her closer, also using the movement to try to wake her quickly. "Hey. Aaliyah. Wake up."

"Just wanna go home."

Something takes him violently. He hasn't felt it since the night in the cavern, but that time, he'd been helpless, bound, and distant from Aaliyah. Now, the feeling surges throughout his body as if it's a bolt of lightning, and it makes him move faster. The urgency settles hard in his stomach, and without remorse, he finds himself thinking, I would kill for this woman.

"Aaliyah." He picks her up off the mattress and lays her against his chest, tightening his arms around her waist, making her sit upright. "Wake up, my love. Wake up. We're going home. Come on. Open your eyes. Your pretty eyes. I wanna see them. Let me see them."

It takes several tries to wake her, but when she does, it's with half of a broken sob against his neck, her arms quickly coming up to wrap around his shoulders. Her nails dig into his skin, front pressed up against his, and she softly cries against his shoulder until she's struggling to breathe.

When she finally does catch her breath, it sounds more like a wheeze, pitiful and painful both.

He rubs her back gently as she tries as if coaxing all her cries out. He'd never want her to keep it all in. His arms are the tightest they've ever been around her. His own head nuzzles against her neck and he softly murmurs, "It's all right. It's all right now."