Letting Go (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter 41: The Reunion

I've rewritten this chapter approximately six million times. I wanted it to be dramatic because Nat has lost everything she ever wanted, I wanted it to be funny because I freaking miss their banter, and I wanted it to be sweet because Harry pretty much gave up his life to be with her when she needed it most. I hope it's all three because I made it ridiculously long otherwise.  :)

Nattie

It was still daylight by the time the music started. Even across the lake I could hear the beginning melodies of the Rolling Stones. I didn't remember the name of the song, just as I didn't remember it on our way to Atlanta. I could picture the hopeful look on Harry's face as he waited for me to recognize it, only to shake his head when I came up blank, an arrogant smirk on his lips.

I picked up my phone and clicked the lock button once, watching the screen saver pop up. The polar bear on the left barely towered over Harry's tall frame. Harry, curls falling down to his shoulders, held me in his arms with a giant dimpled grin, a victory grin. After all, he had just pickpocketed my phone without me even noticing. As I stared at the photo I couldn't help but think that he was happy that day. That I had given him a day where his dad and his problems hadn't even entered his mind. Maybe I had been happy too.

Even though I kind of hated him now, I also kind of didn't.

I also kind of couldn't.

I tried to delete this picture at least a million times in the last three days, but I could never do it. I couldn't bring myself to destroy proof that Harry was happy.

I laid back on the bed, pressing a pillow over my face in hopes of blocking out Harry's playlist. I didn't want to remember the good times this summer. I didn't want to remember all the times he was there for me, all the times he made me laugh, or all the times he made me crazy. I didn't want to remember how he broke my heart three days ago.

The heat became too much and I rolled over onto my left side, letting the pillow drop to the floor. My hip clicked and I closed my eyes to brace myself for another episode. They were so much more frequent now - almost three times a day. No one knew that of course; I hadn't let anyone in my room for three days. If Uncle Ben heard my muffled yells, he didn't say anything.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. No excruciating pain. I was safe.

I opened my eyes only to be face to face with that damn collage that I made for the town hall meeting. The tiny conglomeration of campers that had once served to promote the carnival merely mocked me now. Sure, we still had another month of camp left, but what was the point? In four weeks the last camper would leave Chickasaw forever. I moved my gaze, but it didn't help. Everywhere I looked, I was surrounded by my own images of the campground. Paintings of the landscape, the lake, the cabins, the kids...

I couldn't take it anymore.

Slowly, I sat up and reached over for the crutches leaning against the bedframe. There was a constant dull pain in the side and back of my right hip that I couldn't shake anymore. Crutches had become my only option. I carefully swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up on my left foot. It was difficult to keep my right off the ground with the weak muscles, but I managed it for the most part.

I maneuvered across the room, stopping briefly in front of the mirror hanging over my dresser. My bright red hair was a wreck - frazzled strands sticking out everywhere. I yanked the elastic off my wrist and put it back in a ponytail. It was still super tangled, but I didn't have to energy to deal with it. My face was splotchy from laying on pillows and crying the majority of the last 72 hours, but I chose to ignore it. My eyes though...they were off. The outer rim, usually a navy blue was blurry and muddied along with the iris.