Reticent (h.s fanfic, punk Harry)

Chapter 37

Harry's POV

I saw her again. And I knew it was a dream. But for that brief moment I was with her, I held her. She breathed like a living person. She smiled as she did those days when nothing had gone wrong. She laughed like that time I'd told her a cheesy joke. I held her like nothing had ever happened. And even though I knew she was gone and I was holding nothing but a figment of my imagination, I kept up a brave face, because alive or not, I wanted her to know that I could live, dead inside, I could still live.

Her hair was long again, her face had color, her cheeks rosy, her nose a slight pink from being outside in the cold. It was snowing in my dream as well, it fluttered down like leaves falling down in the fall season. Anne loved that, she adored the color change, the way they detached from the stem and fall like paper. Even in the snow though, the flowers were in full bloom- they always were when she haunted my dreams, when she didn't; it was all grey. Nothing bloomed, the sun always hid on the other side of the grey clouds, the flowers were crushed as if a stampede had ran over them.

She walked by them, I followed her with my hand tightly wrapped around her wrist. I had only these false moments with her, and I wanted everything I could get from her. She, though, never held onto me, her hands laid loose by her sides, her eyes focused on the flower, her mind wrapped in whatever she was lost in.

While I held her hand so tightly, her face slowly paled, and her hair started to go away. No, is all I could think. She was going to leave again, the flowers were going to die like her, the air would change, and the world would turn desolated now. Everything would flutter away like ashes. And slowly everything died, and she just disappeared. I stood on the porch and watched the world turn grey. Like a blizzard everything changed in seconds, and I stood in that same spot to watch it all fall apart, to watch her wilt away once more.

It seemed, she came here every night in my dreams just to look at those flowers once more, just to catch those butterflies once more, and live once more, then die once again.

My eyes opened to welcome the dim room. The window had a layer of frost decorations, and on the other side, the snow fell furiously. I tried to let sleep overcome me again, I let my eyes close, I let my breathing calm, and waited. If I slept I saw her alive then die, and if I stayed awake I just saw her death. My dreams were a nightmare, and wakefulness was a bleak and fearful place. I couldn't hide from the truth, I couldn't run from her. Whatever I did I just saw her. I'd see her dead, I'd see her alive. Whatever it was, it was filled with her. I couldn't sleep in fear I'd see her, I couldn't go outside because I'd remember her. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even sit still. Being still was the worst-my mind would go in turmoil. Her smile would come to me, her tears, her laugh, her happiness, her sadness, they would all circle around until I'd go insane.

No matter how ready I thought I'd be for this, I never really understood it. She was gone, and all I had were figments of my imaginations, dreams, and flowers.

She was nowhere, but she was everywhere. She was everywhere and I couldn't get her out of my mind. It was utterly impossible.

The sheets rustled beside me. Ophelia turned her body towards the wall and turned back, her eyes open and alert. They settled on me. For a moment she looked as if she had no idea what was happening, but slowly understanding came into her eyes, and she sat up. "Sorry," her groggy voice spoke up, low, but still soothing, "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

Already sitting up, I let my head rest on the wall, my eyes closing again, still chasing the sleep that I'd lost, or still chasing Anne. "S' Alright. I fell asleep too."

I hadn't meant to. Neither had she. For quite some time, we sat on the bed, above the sheets, simply staring at the wall in front of us. "I was supposed to call you for dinner, but I suppose I forgot."