Even If It Hurts -H.S. AU

75

I inhale deeply as I breach consciousness, but refuse to open my eyes. It can't be morning yet, and even if it is, fuck that.

I roll over in bed and reach my arms out, searching for the warmth of Harry to put me back to sleep, but I come up empty. I shuffle across the bed a little more, but when my fingers tip over the edge of the mattress, still not finding him, my eyes fly open.

He's not here.

His side of the bed is vacant, the covers folded back to expose the place he should be. I glance at the clock on the nightstand and am shocked to find it's three twenty-seven in the morning. There's no way he's up already.

A nervous pit starts to form in my stomach realizing  that he's not in our room. The light in the bathroom isn't on, but it's possible he didn't need it thanks to the moonlight that pours in from the window above the shower.

I climb out of bed and tentatively stand up when my feet hit the cold hardwood. I throw on his T-shirt that was discarded at the side of the bed, not needing to feel more vulnerable than I already do without him.

"Harry?" I whisper cautiously as I walk toward the bathroom. I flick the light on, but he's not in there.
The pit in my stomach grows and my palms start to sweat. Something doesn't feel right.

I pull open our bedroom door and step into the hall. The dark corridor looks incredibly ominous, and I realize I've never wandered around the apartment in the dark without him, let alone looking for him. It suddenly feels a lot bigger and a lot scarier.

I slowly tread forward. I'm trying to make as little noise as possible, though I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm trying to listen for clues? I shake my head at that stupid thought and continue on.

The kitchen is dimly lit, but it's obvious he's not in there. I exhale heavily and turn on my heel, incredibly confused. I choke down a surprised gasp when I spot a silhouette in the living room, sitting with their back against the window with their head in their hands. I know immediately from the mess of curls on their head who it is.

"Harry?" I say softly as I walk forward, but he doesn't move. "Harry..." I try again as I get closer, but he still doesn't budge.

I'm starting to get scared that he's not responding and make the decision to reach out and turn on one of the soft light lamps. He jumps at the change in atmosphere and lifts his head from his hands. His eyes immediately land on me and my heart sinks to my feet.

"Vi-" he says with a sniffle as he wipes under his eyes and sits up a little straighter, but it's no use.

Harry is sitting on the floor in the living room in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. His back is against the window, his knees bent, elbows resting on them. His hair is a wild mess, a side effect of him running his hands through it. He has tears covering his cheeks, sliding down his chin and dripping onto his bare chest. His skin is blotchy and red, and he looks up at me with swollen eyes.

"Harry..." I say his name softly as I lower myself to my knees in front of him. "What's going on, baby?"

"Violet-" he chokes out my name, like he was going to explain, but a heart wrenching sob cuts him off before he can get anything else out.

Without wasting another second, I lunge for him. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him into my chest. His arms loop around my back, holding me tightly as he leans forward into my body instead of against the cold glass.

"Shh... it's okay." I try to soothe him as his tears stain the shirt of his that I'm wearing. He brings his knees in closer, squeezing my hips with them. He's just about wrapping his entire body around me, and it's breaking my fucking heart.