"Everything you've ever dreamed of, disappearing when you wake up. But there's nothing to be afraid of, even when the night changes."
You'd think after eight years, he'd leave her. She was a mess, broken, bruised.
He just called her bent.
But deep down, Harry knew she was broken beyond repair, her skin pale and eyes blank. She was nothing.
She use to be the best, happy and healthy. That was until he left her. He would always text her, apologizing about things she didn't understand, nor want to understand.
He hurt her.
Emilia was now known as a freak, popping pills to make her "happy." She wasn't happy. Though here he was, asleep and covered under the duvet on her bed.
He was still in her sheets, and she loved it.
Despite the hurtful feelings she wanted to scream at him, she didn't. The way his jaw tensed when she would leave, or the way his green eyes would soften when she spoke. It was all beautiful to her.
Though they were failing, she was bringing him down with her. His prominent hip bones, his small body, his now colorless eyes. It was all going wrong.
The two had planned to move to Paris, running away from home at the ripe age of 16. How stupid.
They were falling, him once being a angel but now smoking and getting high. All because she wouldn't talk to him.
"Emilia?" His raspy voice called from the darkness, snapping her train of thought in two as she looked over at him with a sigh. "Why aren't you in bed, Em?" He questioned, even though he knew she wouldn't answer.
"Come on, my sweet little angel. Go to bed." Harry muttered, now getting up from the bed and picking her up from the soft couch and setting her down on their mattress. It wasn't even hers amymore.
"Goodnight, love." He murmured as he walked from the room, it filling with colorless pictures that made her want to scream. She remained silent, squeezing her eyes shut to block it all out.
There were nights she'd wake up crying, crying for Harry despite how much she wanted him to leave. It was as if her heart yearned for him to stay, though her brain screamed for him to leave. She was stuck.
"Harry." Emilia choked out, her eyes now filling with tears as she began to cry, the darkness making her body cold. "Harry." She said a bit louder, her body shaking with fear.
The room was growing colder by the second. Scratch that, by the millisecond.
"Angel?" He rasped, the scent of smoke filling the room as he walked in. Seeing her shriveled up on the bed made him sigh, shaking his head softly. The baggy shirt she bought him hanging loose, making her sob. "Why, Harry? Why can't we be normal?" She questioned softly, hiding her face.
None of this was turning out like she thought it would, she wasn't happy. She wanted him healthy, happy. He wasn't.
"Baby, what do you mean? We are normal." He chuckled nervously, making her shake her head. "We aren't. You look horrible, sick, small. You need to go home, we need to leave here." She was now pulling at her hair with small breaths, choking on her own sobs.
He was her angel, wrapped in her sheets.
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So this is my story, sheets. I've never written a proper fanfiction, hense why it's sucky.
This chapter was shorter, as if it was a Prologue, but I plan on writing it out.
Thanks for reading,
Paige xx.
