Dépaysement (h.s)

88

Harry Styles

We buried Enzo yesterday.

As we were digging the grave, Delilah stayed in the car the entire time.

She didn't say a word the entire car ride back to Washington, which was a very long drive filled with complete silence. She just stared out the window the entire time.

Everyone was scared to say something wrong, so no one said anything at all. We are walking on eggshells around her.

She's different. We all know it—including her. But she's still Delilah. She's my girl. She's Lilah. Everyone loves her and cares for her, all we ever wanted was for her to be safe.

I can't ever understand what she went through even if I tried to. She was put through so much and had to go through it alone, she was manipulated and controlled to hate us and to think she owed something to Enzo. His death hurts her—I can tell. I keep trying to read her, which usually came so easy to me when we were together, but now it's almost impossible. It's like trying to read a brick wall. But I know for a fact she's hurting.

I can't help but blame myself. She is right, I allowed her into this life—we all did. Even though I tried to fight having her join alongside us in the beginning, I sort of liked the idea somewhere along the way and it was only because I was selfish. I liked her, I wanted to know her more.

She has so much hurt behind those beautiful brown eyes. I caused that hurt.

After learning what Enzo did to her these past couple months, what he put her through, I only have murder on my mind.

If he wasn't already dead—I would've tortured him for hours until he was begging to die.

Since I can't kill him twice, I only have one more person on my hit list.

Luca.

We made it back to Washington three hours ago. We can't stay obviously considering Luca will hear the news soon about Enzo and will immediately come after us—I've told no one my plan on what to do about Luca so I've just been going along with what the guys wanna do.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know it was us, so they want to run.

We went over the risks—everyone understanding them completely. The risks and the what ifs are better than the latter.

Ever since we got back we have been packing everything we need. Clothes, toothbrushes, guns and money. Necessities.

We take as much as we can fit in duffel bags and decide to leave the rest. The first thing I stuffed into my bag was my journal, knowing I can't ever let that go.

Delilah has been locked in the downstairs bathroom ever since we got back.

The second I finish packing I head downstairs and join Zayn on the couch who seemed to be ready.

He lights a joint and inhales the smoke, "Should we check on her?" He whispers then blows the smoke out of the side of his mouth.

He hands me the joint and after hitting it I exhale, "She'll come out when she's ready. I don't want to push her, we just got her back. She's not like how she used to be."

"Understandably. I can't imagine the pain she went through." He shakes his head with sorrow in his eyes.

"Where's everyone else?" I change the subject in hopes she doesn't hear us.

He shrugs, "Still packing I guess...we've got time." He looks at his watch.

Right on cue, Niall and Jade walk through the door with bags in hand.