Let Your Good Heart Lead You Home (Zarry AU)

Part 32

He's lying in his bed, but sleep won't come to him. They're at it again, yelling and slamming doors downstairs, and he feels sick, like his stomach is clawing its way through his throat and his heart is trying to escape through his ears.

His curtains are dancing with the wind, the cold moonlight creeping in past the open windows and when he holds his hand up against the light he sees they're trembling. Why does the fighting affect him so much? Why is he so scared? What is he scared of?

He doesn't want to think of the possibilities, because he knows. Knows entirely too much; caught things from conversations they didn't think he'd hear and even remembers most of the things his mother confessed late at night, stroking his hair and thinking he was asleep. But what are the chances? Surely nothing will happen to him. They're just words. It won't happen.

Harry shoots up in his bed when there's pounding on his door, repeatedly and in the same pattern. He's petrified, heart pounding against his ribcage. There's something seeping in from underneath his door, a glimmering liquid, and it takes him a moment to realise it's water. He rushes over to the door, getting his feet wet, and tries to pull it open. It won't budge, it's stuck.

He can't open his door and there's water rushing inside. The window, where's the window? There are only solid walls, no way to escape. Harry doesn't know what to do, he's panicking, looking for a way out. The water is up to his knees now and he's splashing around his room, kicking his floating stuffed animals out of the way. He tries to pick up his chair, but it's too heavy, he won't be able to break the door with it.

''Help!'' he yells, rushing back toward the door and pounding on it, trying to drown out the noise on the other side. Louder, he needs to be louder. ''I'm stuck!'' He's yelling so hard it hurts his throat and his hand is throbbing from bashing on the door.

''Mom!'' he yells instead, feeling tears spring free from his eyes. The water is up to his waist now. What can he do? He screams until his voice breaks, until his lungs are burning and he's gasping for breath. It reaches his chin now and he's tired, his arms aching. He can't lift them up, can't yell anymore.

He can't.

His feet aren't touching the ground and he's terrified. Where is his mother? Why won't she come for him? He's kicking his feet against the water, feeling the top of his head brush the ceiling. "No, no."

He pounds on the ceiling, hoping to break through, but it's useless. "Mom!" It's useless. "Help." Nobody.

Water surrounds him. He's floating in his room, sees his teddy bear drift by him underwater. Bubbles escape his mouth. His lungs are on fire and it feels like his chest might cave in. He tries to fight it, but the water is winning. There is nothing he can do.

Nothing.

Harry gasps for breath, feeling disoriented. It takes him a moment to realise it was just a dream and he's not surrounded by water. He's not in his old bedroom. He is still very much alive.

It's 3 am but he doesn't want to go back to sleep yet; he's still too shaken by his dream and how real it felt, how when he woke up his first thought was: is this the afterlife? Even with everything he does, he doesn't really think about death, or what might come after, who he will see. He doesn't want to think about it now. Maybe not ever. He instinctively grabs for his phone, opening up his messages and sending one to Zayn.

Harry: Are you awake? x

It's late and there's a small chance, but a small chance is all he needs. Barely any time passes before there's a reply.