Sanctuary [h.s.]

Chapter Twenty-Three (*)

"I wanna touch you but I'm scared

I really love you though I swear

I dread the moment you're not there

I need your hands in my hair"

***

Harry's POV

The search for Silas wore me down, each passing day sinking me deeper into frustration and fatigue. I spoke to far too many people, each conversation leading to nothing but dead ends, like chasing phantoms through a maze. Every lead turned out to be a wild goose chase, leaving me with more questions than answers. No one seemed to know anything about Silas or the ritual. Calling it a mere obsession at this point felt like an understatement. It had become something darker, something more consuming. The hunt turned into a relentless force, keeping me awake until exhaustion finally claimed me. Sleep, when it came, felt like a fleeting blink before I was pulled back into another nightmare. I existed in a state of perpetual darkness, as if slowly being swallowed by a black hole. No matter how far I pushed forward, the walls always closed in, trapping me.

Just as I was about to step out the door, the landline in my room rang, the shrill sound freezing me in place. I let out a weary sigh, pausing in my tracks. For a moment, I simply stared at it, the old phone an unwelcome reminder of everything I wasn't accomplishing. With a reluctant exhale, I walked over and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" My voice came out rough, frustration bleeding through.

"Harry?" Eleanor's voice crackled on the other end, soft and familiar.

My light. The sun to my endless void.

"Eleanor," I replied, my tone gentler now, softer, as though the weight of the world lifted a little just from hearing her voice.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting. I wasn't sure if you were busy, and I didn't want to—" She stumbled over her words, a nervous ramble that made the corner of my lips twitch upward.

"You're not bothering me," I cut in, a small smile creeping into my voice. "What's going on?"

"Would you be able to meet me at the park? The one near my flat," she asked, as if she needed to clarify. There was only one park that ever held significance for us.

"I know the one," I replied, grinning to myself as my fingers absently twisted the coiled phone cord. "When?"

"Would now be okay?" Her voice carried a note of hesitation.

I exhaled, rubbing my forehead as I weighed the moment. A tightness knotted my chest, a constant reminder of the ticking clock in my search for Silas. I knew I shouldn't waste time. Every second felt precious, slipping away like sand through my fingers. But Eleanor knew that. She wouldn't have asked unless it mattered. For her, I could make time. For her, I could pause the storm.

"Yeah," I finally said, my voice softening. "Now's fine. I'll be there soon."

"Okay. See you soon," she replied, her smile audible even through the phone.

I held the receiver a moment longer before gently placing it back on the hook, her warmth lingering like the last flicker of sunlight before night closed in again.

I drove in silence toward the familiar park, the hum of the engine the only sound to fill the space. My mind was loud enough that I had no need for the radio. This time, it spiralled around Eleanor. With each passing minute, every mile that brought me closer to her, the weight in my chest grew heavier, swelling with a strange concoction of excitement, guilt, and relief. It was an unusual feeling—unsettling in its intensity.