Let Me Be Your Last | z.m vs n.h fanfic [MAJOR EDITING]

Chapter 39

Hey guys!

Here's the final chapter! Wow, I can't believe it. I have finished the epilogue and that will be up in a few minutes, and then its onto editing and the next book.

Thank you so much for your support. I love you all so much.

Lucy xxx

Harry's P.O.V.

The wood splintered and we all held our breath. I'd barely contributed, just stood back whilst all the others broke down the door instead. I was terrified to be brutally honest. I didn't know what state (Y/n) would be in, whether Dylan would pick a fight with us, whether there would be other people there to back him up. The thought of five big, burly guys waiting to beat us up on the other side of the door sent shivers down my spine. I might work out, but I could never hold my own against six foot of solid muscle.

Zayn and Niall barged past Liam, who was being careful by peering around the door instead of running straight in. All we had heard for the past five minutes were (Y/n)'s shrill screams, catching the occasional word or something. We were all tense and alert, hopefully ready for anything.

I turned into the living room to see that I had already spoken too soon. Zayn was on the floor, clutching his stomach. I ran over and looked through the doorframe. Dylan was slowly approaching (Y/n). He was tall - several inches taller than me - and his tight-fitting T-shirt showed off his biceps.

I knew what was going to happen, but I was frozen to the spot. This was all too familiar.

Chelsea, that was her name. I was fifteen, and she was nineteen. Of course I'd lied to her - she believed that I was eighteen. When she found out the truth, she went insane. I remember images of china smashing all around me, her jaw clenched as she dug her long nails into me, the cruel emptiness in her eyes as she drew back her fists over and over. It was never-ending torture. I hadn't exactly lied to (Y/n). Chelsea had hit me with a metal spatula, one of the times. I'd thought I was in love with her. I was young, and I didn't know what love was. I still don't. Every time she would apologise and beg me to forgive her. I don't know why I did. I guess I felt as though I didn't deserve any better.

A huge crash brought me back to my senses. (Y/n) was in a heap on the floor, her limbs were tangled, and dark red blood traced a pathway past her ear. It was all too much.

I tried taking deep breaths, but I only panicked more when I felt like there was not enough air in the room for me. I blinked over and over, hoping that this would all be a horrific dream, and I'd awaken at any second in my bed, wrapped in soft blankets. I didn't.

I could smell blood. It was everywhere I looked. Smeared down the side of the counter, splattered on the walls. All over Dylan. All over the boys. All over me.

I wasn't sure what was real and what I was imagining. I could just be imagining it all, but it could all be real.

"I'm sorry (Y/n), I really can't stay," I blurted, and before I could even pause to look at anyone's reaction, my feet were carrying me away and out of there.

I ran with no idea where I was headed. I just had to get away as fast as I could. Ragged breaths tore out of my lungs and there were fresh tears dripping off of my chin. I soon found that there was no longer enough oxygen to satisfy my growing need. My body was aching all over and I felt light-headed. How long had I been running? There was no way of telling. 

I came to a halt as my need for more air in my lungs overcame me. Leaning against a tall red brick wall, my body sunk to the cold pavement. My shaking hands furiously brushed away the tears staining my cheeks, only to be replaced as more spilled over my eyelids.