Deliverance [h.s.]

seventy-six | 20 hours and _ minutes

But your death, it won't happen to you

It happens to your family and your friends

I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes) || The 1975

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

Harry's P.O.V.

They say time of death is one of the most important parts of a person passing, whether it be for crime scene logistics, insurances, or even just peace of mind.

I don't know the exact moment Mac was ripped from the world but somewhere in the darkest parts of my mind I began counting the seconds.

If not for me, for blue.

20 hours and 13 minutes.

That's how long it's been since Mac's light left.

Since our lives changed as we knew it.

Since the world lost one of its softest souls.

It's been 20 hours and 14 minutes since I saw two of the people I love the most die in front of me.

Somewhere around hour 18, when the light came rising through the windows of this haunted room, blue's eyes shut. I think she assumed I would quit watching her every breath if I thought she was asleep but I know better. I've spent countless nights watching her chest rhythmically rise and fall to know these forced signs of slumber aren't real.

7 minutes into hour 20, she rolled away from me and has stayed there since. Every so often I catch a twitch of her pale fingertips against the soft sheets or a deeper inhale than the previous one but besides those subtle signs of life; i would believe she died 20 hours and 15 minutes ago too.

Jax and Elias had returned yesterday late in the evening, way fucking later than i had expected them to. When I heard the front door slip open, I stayed still with my arms held safely around the shell of a woman beside me and I waited for a text instead. When it came it read simply that they were home and he'd be sleeping on the couch. Sometime in the night I had replied that we would talk in the morning and when blue turned her body away from mine, I took it as a sign to give her the space she's silently asking for.

I slowly pull back the sheets, slipping out and away from the comfort I had found over the last hours. The floor creaks as I walk and when I open the door to leave her room, my heart falls in silence.

He should be here.

He was here.

He was here, dramatically singing in the living room as he watered plants.

He was here, sliding in his socks down the hallway.

He was in the kitchen, singing My Girl into my spatula as he washed the dishes.

He was with me in the kitchen after the first time I spent the night, giving me blue's favorite mug to get under her skin.

He was just across the hall, living and breathing less than 24 hours ago.

And now he's gone.

The house is quiet and it doesn't smell like its usual cup of morning coffee. The living room's curtains are still pulled shut and as I pass by the door to his room I have to steady my legs to stop them from collapsing beneath me.

When I reach the end of the hall, the living room coming into view, I'm met by Jax's lifeless, exhausted expression. He's sitting on the couch, elbows dug into his knees as he stares back at me with dark ringed eyes.