Ravaged // h.s. au

16.

Harry

" It still feels odd to me that Hazel simply went to bed." I felt light, free, as I took another sip of Gypsy's famous milkshake.

" She's 16 now, Harry, I don't have to put her to bed anymore." She shook her head, as if it was basic parenting information that I had stupidly missed.

" God, I still remember the first time I met her. She couldn't have been any older than 11 years old, and she was the most badass kid I'd ever met."

" She still is. She lost the piggy tails and the slight lisp, but she's still quite badass."

" You did good with her, Gypsy. You did really good."

" She makes it easy. It's always been just her and me, and she's a good kid. Always has been." Her smile, although, not joyful or bright, it wasn't as sad as I had remembered it being whenever she thought of their lonely upbringing.

" She is. You're a natural when it comes to parenting though." Her eyes widened briefly, before they completely shut, in unmistakable pain. I had only now realized what I had said, what wound, I had thrown salt into.

" Shit, Gypsy, I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

" No, no, it's alright, Harry, really." She smiled, only a little, but I felt the previous panic slowly washing away.

" Are you... alright? Honestly?"

" Honestly? I don't think I've ever been less alright. Like, I don't fall apart anymore, but that's probably because I never fall together at the first place. But, I need to keep it together, I need to take care of my sister, so that helps, I guess."

" You don't have to; keep it together, I mean. Not with me at least."

" I do though. Because I've allowed myself to break, and you weren't there, Harry. I'm not saying this to hurt you, I just- I can't trust you to see that side of me anymore."

" Yeah, you're right. I wish I could fix that, Gypsy, I wish..... I wish I was strong enough to live through it instead of throwing myself into the pit of a bottle. I wish I could have looked into your eyes, and saw anything other than the explosion's fire reflected upon them. I wish I could have touched you, and felt my hands, instead of his. God, Gypsy, I wish I could go back to that damned day and just go home, so that you never would have had to get on that subway." I rubbed at my eyes, hiding all traces of the forming tears, releasing a long breath, attempting to swallow away that desperate sob. I felt her kind eyes on me, never judgmental, never blaming. Always caring, although, not nearly as loving as they once were.

" I know, Harry, but you can't. And being mad at you for it is exhausting."

" So where does that leave us?"

" I don't know, Harry."

" Do you- what do you feel towards me, right now?"

" What I've always felt. We can go years, and nothing would ever change. I still feel my heart skipping a beat, even now, I still feel this instinct to protect you, but I can't. I never could. At the end of the day, the world managed to ruin you through all my love for you."

" I'm trying, Gypsy. It's just so... God, there's so much crashing and burning inside me, Gypsy. And it's either I feel all of it; the pain, the fear, the regret. Or I feel nothing at all. And it's scary as fuck, because I- I can't feel it. Because if I feel it, then that makes it real, and it can't be. This can't be what I had done to us."

" I'll tell you something probably nobody has ever told you. When I got home from the hospital, for a whole week, I kept getting into that dress every day. I'd sit by the window, and wait for you to come home. I thought- I thought if I kept myself in that place; where I was waiting for you to celebrate your birthday, then you'd come for me, the way you always did. After that week, Louis came into my room, took scissors, and cut the dress to shreds right in front of me. It was the first time that I had allowed your loss to fully sink in. I cried, and cried, and it felt like I'd never stop. But I did, Harry. It stopped. It still hurts, more and more each day, but I don't cry over it."

" Do you think it would have made a difference, if we hadn't lost the baby?" A weak gasp went past her lips, but she maintained her posture.

" You would have hated yourself a little less, I would have been able to feel a bit more, but would we still be together? I don't know. I think... I think we were too destroyed to be parents, and at least now- now I can blame Joshua for that loss, rather than myself."

" Or me. You can blame me."

" I'd never blame you."

" Why not?"

" Because I love you."

My breath hitched, tears welling behind my eyes, blurring my sight of her. I couldn't hear past my own heart erratically beating in my chest, but then she smiled, and it reminded me of the very first time she had smiled at me. She looked a bit older now, a bit sadder too, as if she was taunted by life's wicked games, but she still took my breath away.

I had assumed her heart was too broken to feel anything other than pure loathing towards me. I had assumed her pieces would reject my touch, even if it was simply for their mending. I had thought I had become a memory; a dark, painful memory, that she was desperate to move on from. But she loved me. She had said it so easily, so profoundly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. She still knew how to love me, and God, I wasn't worth it, I didn't deserve it, but I'd take it.