THE CURB (MATURE HARRY STYLES AU) #WATTYS2016

CHAPTER EIGHTY NINE.

Don't let me go- Harry Styles.

This song fits this story i think.

Harry gives up his search for the girl after running around for half an hour. His body aches all over and his head is pounding worse than ever. The blood is slowly pooling out and running down the length of Harry's arm, the self inflected injury nothing but the proof of his poor anger management and self control.

He leans his head against the wall and squeeze his eyes shut, mouth slightly parted as he takes in short breath. The lack of clothing has made his situation worse, the thin shirt does no good against the cold winds. Everytime he tries to take in a deep breath his chest and lungs hurt, being the only painful remainder that he's still alive.

Harry feels defeated, weak, lonely, scared, sad but most of all, he feels dead inside. He's desperate for someone to care for him, to kiss him repeatedly and whisper sweet things in his ear, tell him that it's nothing more than a nightmare and everything is going to be okay. He wants to wake up and find himself in a warm bed with very fimiliar arms wrapped tightly around his middle but he knows that it's impossible.

He feels something cold dropping onto his cheek and his eyes fly open. He looks up at the sky and the blackish clouds make it obvious that it's gonna rain soon. Harry doesn't seem to care about it though, he stay still in his spot, not moving even when it starts to pour really hard.

The harsh cold seems to have no effect on him, it's nothing compared to the pain he feels on the inside.

Hours pass by before Harry finally stands up, he looks around the isolate place with no signs of human beings in the near by vicinity. The feeling of lonliness hightens and tears start running out of Harry's tired eyes, blending in with the rain drops.

Harry stumbles into the deadly silent house, glancing around like he's seen the place for the first. It seems foreign and unfimiliar without her presence. His head is hazy and jumbled up, unsure of whose presence he's craving at the moment but wherever he looks, the memories of past month flood back.

He walks towards the kitchen and quickly throw open the cabinet he keeps his alcohal in. He furrows his eye brows when all the bottles are empty. Like a mad man he starts taking out one bottle after another, desperate for something to lose his senses, to drink away his isolation.

The bottles clink and against the floor when Harry harshly throws all of the useless, empty bottles, screaming in annoyance and frustration. His hands come up to tug harshly at his brown ringlets, resting his head against the wall.

A sob escapes Harry's lips and he clench his fists tight, unsure of what to do. His teeth chatter and he shakes all over but it's not because of the cold weather, it's because of the hollowness that's eating at his insides.

"Harry." He hears her sweet voice whispering the name and Harry's eyes become wide. He moves away from the walls and frantically look around, desperate to see the fimiliar face.

"Where are you?" His gruff voice echoes through the empty house and he stumbles a bit as he run out of the kitchen and into the living room.

He cathes the sight of her turning around the corner and Harry runs after her fleeing figure.

"Don't leave me, please." Harry says desperately, tears rolling down his cheeks as the fear of not seeing her again settles in. "Stop, no."

The figure disappears and Harry's left there, standing in the hall way all alone once again. He runs fingers through his wet hair in frustration and continues to look around, not realizing that it's only his mind playing tricks on him, making him hear and see things that are far from real.