Rescue Me [H.S.]

22. Home

Harry and I are sitting in a black van with toned windows, driving further and further away from my home, London. If I ever really had a home there. I have moved around quite a lot with my mom, because she can never hold on to a job, but none of the tiny, dusty apartments where I spent most of my time wishing I wasn't there, will I ever call my home. I place my head on Harry's shoulder and close my eyes for a while. I do not wish to see the landscape pass by because it only means we are getting closer to my imprisonment, or rehab facility as others might call it.

"This morning I gave the paparazzi an anonymous tip, they should be waiting for you at Greenwood."

Harry and me nod at his driver's words. Maybe Harry thanks him, I'm not sure. Everything since my last breakdown yesterday evening has been a blur. We settled on a rehab facility named Greenwood, where all the patients suffer from some form of a self-destructive habit. Harry told me all I need to know about Greenwood the previous night. He tried to make it sound like it is just a long spa visit, but it sounds like a prison to me. Contact with the world is forbidden the first few weeks, and there will be group sessions every day, and the worst part is that there are surveillance cameras and the employees will be watching over us like hawks, making sure no one has a relapse. For many this will probably be exactly what they need to start their recovery, but I lack one thing: the will to become better – and for that I need a reason. But then Harry catches my gaze and I realize that he is my reason. I want to see his luscious curls, his deep green eyes and his smile again, again and again. 

"Sorry," I mutter as I see some black spots on his shirt from my now wet mascara. I hadn't realized but tears are forming in my eyes, silently running down my cheeks.

"Don't apologize," Harry says as he gently removes my tears with his sleeve. 

What did I ever do to deserve him? How did a single meeting develop into a relationship? I bite my lip as I sigh. An unanswered question has been bugging me for way too long and this might be the only time to get an honest answer. 

"Harry?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Why did you want to get to know me? I know you said you wanted to see the world again, be excited about it and get your happiness back but..." 

I'm not sure how to continue. Harry nods, not only to confirm some of his first words to me, but to urge me on. I remove a strand of hair away from my face and wet my lips. 

"Were my scars ever a big part of it? Did you wanna save me, and why me? Like, did you take me on an adventure just to save me and maybe just to.... Feel better about yourself?" 

The question comes out all wrong, but there is no going back now. I watch him struggle with the question; open his mouth, close it, and then he looks down on the floor; letting his shoulder-length hair cover his face and for the first time ever I see him picking his nails. 

"I guess there is something I have to admit. But first, I'll answer your question. No, your scars were never a part of it. I see many girls with scars every day and I try getting them to promise me never to cut again, but you..." He finally looks back up at me. "You caught my eye long before I ever talked to you or saw your scars." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"You were wearing a grey t-shirt, black jeans and sneakers. You had your hair in a ponytail. You wore no make-up, probably because you didn't need any make-up to look absolutely beautiful. And when I looked into your blue eyes, I knew you were special. I told Louis that I wanted to talk to you, when you were still in the queue, that's why he was so persistent with helping me get your number and making sure you were at the concert."

I open my mouth in disbelief. I didn't even remember what I wore. Had he really noticed me even though there had been a sea of pretty girls? 

"Bullshit," I state. 

But then Harry laughs and shakes his head. 

"Nope, this is stuff for a romantic movie, but no. It's not bullshit. You can ask Louis. And I was right, too. You are special."

I squint my eyes at him and slowly shake my head. 

"I'm really not," I say in a low voice. 

Nothing about me is special. My social skills are non-existent, I can only be funny when I'm being sarcastic, I lack empathy and fashion sense, and I'm not good at anything, barely average.

"You are. Maybe some tabloids are gonna write that I'm saving you or whatever, but they'll be wrong. I didn't save you. You saved yourself and you saved me. I didn't even know that I had to be rescued. But I did. You rescued me." 

"I really didn't." 

"Yeah, you did. I didn't care about anything in life or value anything before I met you. Before you, it was like I was in a trance where nothing mattered. But now I'm out of it and living life again, actually caring about things instead of not giving a shit about anything... I was a puppet on a string and not caring made life easier. But I've realized that life is actually good. Tough, but good. That's thanks to you... Thank you for rescuing me. I love you."

He leans in closer to me, until our lips are inches apart. His green, sparkling eyes that are full of life gaze into my eyes for a bit, then he closes his eyes, and we are so close that I can admire his long, black eyelashes and smell his expensive cologne. My heartbeat starts racing as he places his warm, soft hand on my cheek, pulling me closer and finally his soft lips meets mine.

* * *

"Sir, we're here." The driver turns his face to look at us. "And the paparazzi is here too," he added. 

I look out the window and see a swarm of tall, black-dressed men with flashing cameras quickly coming closer to our van. Behind them I can see a huge, white building. Greenwood, the rehab facility. Would this modern looking facility be my new home? Home is where your heart is. Song lyrics have never been truer, I think, as I glance at Harry. Harry is my home. Hands intertwined, we step out of the van. The cold wind surprises me. I have no jacket on – just a t-shirt to avoid trying to hide my scars but letting the world know that; yes, I'm not perfect, I have damaged myself but I am trying to get better. I glance up to the sky where grey clouds are covering the blue sky. Side-by-side we let ourselves be attacked with flashing cameras. But we just walk steadfast to the building, never letting go of each other's hands.

//A/N: This is the last chapter before the epilogue. Please do comment and tell me how you think it will end, I'm curious to hear your thoughts :) (I've already written the epilogue, so nothing will make me change my mind though)