Remnant [h.s]

chapter two

I thought we'd have more time.

☆ ☆ ☆

Harry Styles

I haven't slept in days. I don't think I had even gotten into my bed in days. How could I when the love of my life was slowly fading away? When her life was turning into nothing but memories?

I couldn't comfortably rest when I never knew which breath could be her last.

It was killing me inside. There was this feeling of extreme anxiety swirling around me like some kind of fatal storm, the type that would blow roofs in and send trees flying. The type that would cause deviation. That's what it felt like inside of my mind and stomach. They were both doing flips at every second of the day.

It was nauseating.

I stayed glued to her side, barely moving to even look after the kids. The living room had become the only room that we lived in. Binx had set up camp on the floor and Sully was sleeping beside Jazz. I watched over all three of them.

I was beyond exhausted. The coffee wasn't awaking my soul and there was nothing that could bring my peace back.

I felt as though I had been run dry and there was nothing left of me.

There wasn't much left of Jasmine either.

She wasn't in a good way, but that wasn't news to anybody.

Her body was slowing down, everything slowly giving up on her until she couldn't even move. She just laid on the sofa, she couldn't eat, she couldn't walk and it wore her out just to talk. She couldn't reach her arms up for a hug, she couldn't scratch an itch that had been bothering her, she was just there. And she was so uncomfortable.

I could tell by the way her sad eyes would look at me.

My life was crumbling at my feet and I was frantically trying to pick up the pieces and rebuild my happiness, but it was falling quicker than I could patch it up.

This wasn't just a bump in the road. This was an earthquake ready to take us all.

My heart was hurting.

"Good morning m'love" I greet Jazz the same as I would every other morning. We don't discuss her health, we never do. We don't discuss her death and what on earth is going to happen when the day comes. We don't talk about it, ever.

She hums in response, words being too much for her body to bare. She doesn't even open her eyes or twitch a muscle. She's just there and it's not my Jazz. That isn't my love in front of me.