Faceless [H.S]

Long Before She Met You. 39

NO P.O.V

[PLAY SONG]

Once everyone was settled in Harry's apartment--Olivia snoring on the couch, Valerie bundled in Harry's sheets, Vivian and Niall in the guest room--the brunette found himself in the front of an abandoned church. The outside was covered in vines; the brick old--cracked and gray. It hung ominously in the darkness, and he could hear the sounds of the occasional cars whirring by as his footsteps clacked along the steps.

It was about 4 AM. The streets were empty. 

He inhaled deeply; a lit cigarette between his lips as he went through the narrow open space of the chapel. This was his hidden spot for himself--he had broken the locks a long time ago, and would sneak in here far too often when everything seemed to be too much.

"Forgive me, Lord," he mumbled, though his tone held barely any sincerity or remorse for smoking in the Lord's home. A smoke cloud billowed in front of him as he walked inside. The lights were off; but you could still see how tall the ceilings were and the beautiful art dancing along the walls. The windows were stained, but still shone just as brightly as he remembered, even in the darkness. The shadows danced along the church, welcoming him in.

He found himself walking through the pews, before he dropped to his knees in front of the altar.

"I didn't believe in You for a long time," he said through the smoke, looking upwards; his green eyes glinting. "I still am a bit skeptical. But can you judge me?"

He laughed to himself. 

Yeah, God should judge me,' he thought to himself. 'I'm a killer.'

He licked his lips. "Truth is, I need your guidance."

He leaned back now, resting on his palms, his long legs forward. He took the cigarette and put it out on the inside of his hand; his palm simmering with heat and pain for a brief moment.

"I found someone," he said, his voice gruff; his throat raspy from the nicotine pooling in his veins. "I found a woman that is worthy of worship, a woman that makes me believe You exist. Because there is no way in Hell--that angel stumbled into my god damned life."

He reached into his pocket for the flask. "Sorry for this too, religious shit makes me want a drink," he grumbled, taking a swig of the burning liquid. "Bloody hell..."

Harry paused and inhaled deeply, running his hand through his tousled hair. 

"If you could protect her--" he pleaded. "Protect her from everything. Guide her. She needs it more than me. I need her safe and sound, or I won't be able to live with myself. Fuck, protect her from me. From my demons."

His voice was barely a whisper. 

"But you know, God, even if she got away from me... even if I died, I wouldn't really be gone. She has a part of me stuck with her, like I have her stuck with me. Like a god damn parasite. Even if she ran, I'd follow. If I died-- from the grave itself I'd find my way to her. Death wouldn't be able to stop me."

He closed his eyes. 

"But, I'm terrified of ruining her, God. I fear I already have."

Oh, no, Harry.

She already was ruined. 

Long before she met you.