Trace

Chapter 38

EL'S POV

  I open my eyes to find myself in Harry's bed. The bright morning sun burns my tired eyes, and I wipe away the sleep from them. 

  I turn my face to find a snoring Harry, his eyes squeezed tight together and eyebrows furrowed. Intrigued, I silently watch Harry sleep and witness him begin to shake a little and mumble a few words that I can't understand. 

 Sleep talking. 

This interests me even more, and I yearn to discover what Harry experiences in his subconscious mind. Careful not to disturb his dream, or nightmare, I gently rub my hand down his cheek. His mouth curves down into a scowl and he murmurs, "It wasn't me this time."

 I cover my mouth quickly to stifle the small giggle that catches in my throat. Deciding to play along, I lean down to Harry's ear. 

  "Who did it then?" I whisper. 

Harry shifts his shoulder and his eyelids twitch. "Can't. . . can't. . . tell."

  I sigh and run through my mind of the endless list of questions to ask the sleeping boy. 

"What happened?" I ask. 

 I am not too proud of this question I ask, but it's simple enough, and besides- he'll be awake soon enough. 

  Harry snores quietly and I find myself feeling rather disappointed. I really wanted to know what his mind was dreaming up for him. 

  "He should've burned."

I jump a little at his delayed response. Who should have burned? 

  "Who?" I inquire.

Harry's shoulder blade twitches again and he purses his lips together. Although his eyes are tightly closed, his demeanor makes it believable that he could actually be awake. But I know that this is not the case, because he is obviously fast asleep despite the fact he is speaking. 

   "My father," his deep, husky voice responds. 

My spine crawls at Harry's chilling response. It is silly for me to think of Harry's words as part of reality, because dreams are just a figment of the imagination. Even still, I am fully aware of Harry's callous feelings toward his dad. And I can't help but to feel that there is something a little more to this dream.

  Harry's body twitches a third time. 

"Let me go!" he cries aloud. 

  I stare down at him alarmed, not sure if to wake him or not. His face is distorted and displays the emotion of pain. I am about to wake him up from this obvious nightmare, but am stopped when he gasps for air and cries out again. For a moment I think he's waking up, but I am proved wrong when his body relaxes from his previously tensed position. I sigh and lay back down next to him, believing that his nightmare is over. I am about to fall back asleep when I hear Harry sleep talk once more.

  "I set the fire. I wanted my father dead."

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NIALL'S POV

  The rain pounds down on the roof above. I look out my window and boringly watch raindrops glide down the glass. My phone buzzes loudly, interrupting my empty thoughts. 

Harry Styles: Can we talk?

I read the text and immediately feel discomfort run through my body. I am about to set my phone back down and ignore the text message, but I know that this is not a good decision.