Serenity | Harry Styles AU

CHAPTER 1 - the town still whispers

The sky is hazy and all I can think about is how much I want to suck up the bed of foggy clouds like a vacuum. The sun doesn't seem to shine anymore, not since Harry's been gone. Every day seems dull and gloomy, and I wouldn't be lying if I said it matches my mood. The birds no longer chirp outside each morning I wake up, out in the cloudy weather of Elmswood, Georgia. Our apartment seems to be getting bigger and bigger each day, making me feel so alone. Our bed is always cold, lacking the warmth that Harry had always provided. Some mornings I still reach for him. Half-asleep, convinced his arm is under the pillow or his laugh will follow mine into the kitchen. But there's only silence now.

Those people who say that each day gets easier? They are wrong. They are completely wrong on so many levels, and it is quite obvious that they never lost someone they truly loved.

I let out a deep sigh, tears brimming in my eyes as I kneel down to place forget-me-not flowers in front of the gravestone that I have visited every day since the funeral. If I had known that I'd be standing here, then maybe I would have done things differently. Maybe I would have been more patient. Maybe I —

"Holy crap, can you shut it!" I'm already frustrated when I look up to yell at the blackbird cawing right above my head. The sound echoes louder than I meant it to. "Stupid goddamn bird," I mutter, wiping my nose on my sleeve. My voice cracks, and I hate that it does.

I look around, suddenly aware of how alone I am. The static in my head is already loud enough, and the bird's mocks aren't cutting it. Looking back at the headstone in front of me, I furiously wipe at my cheeks as the tears come rolling down.

I read over the words that are already stuck like glue in my mind, lifting my hand to trace over the letters.

Harold Edward Styles

February 1985 - November 2007

Son, friend, honorable man

I hate looking at this dumb, stupid mockery of a brick that people call a tribute of one's life. But that's not how I remember him. "What a pity," they tell me. "I'm so sorry for your loss." They mean well, a lie they believe as being 'considerable.' All I can do is force a smile and avert my eyes, play the part. My heart hurts and my chest tightens; that much is true. But what those people don't know is that a part of that tightness is a squeeze of relief. Some honor. What honor did he have in leaving me?

"Why did you have to leave me?" My lips quiver as more tears continue to spill. "I should have stayed right by your side that night. This is all my fault.

"Every day is so hard without you," I continue, hoping that wherever Harry was, he could hear me. "I would do anything, anything at all, to have you here with me again."

I look up towards the sky, hearing a loud thunder rumble above me. The foggy sky looks exactly like the inside of my head. The dark clouds take over the grey canvas, leaving no room for sunshine. Something about today feels heavier. Like the air's pressing down on me more than usual. Like it knows something I don't.

The silence answers me. Not even the damn bird has anything left to say. The faint smell of damp asphalt rises from the street. A lawn sprinkler hisses somewhere in the distance, but otherwise, Elmswood is quiet.

A gust of wind cuts through the air, sending the petals of the forget-me-nots fluttering against the stone like they're trying to follow me.

Maybe that's his way of saying it's time to go. Maybe I just can't stand here anymore.

I love Harry, and I always will.

I bring myself the courage to turn away from the grave and walk away from the marking where my heart is buried. The weather has started to give a slight chill, which I could use to my advantage as an excuse for my sniffling nose. My hands are stuffed into my coat, my head is low, and my eyes are as heavy as these slow steps that I've been taking down the sidewalk on First Street. A normal look for a 23-year-old loner grieving her dead boyfriend for six... seven... ten months? I've lost track of time and can't remember the last time I properly looked at a calendar.