Fire (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 32

His head was still lowered; I had not yet seen the face I had been longing to see, the eyes I had been yearning to look into. His shoulders bobbed up and down as the sounds of his cries still echoed around the living room.

“Harry…Harry what’s wrong.” With my words, he looked up. His emerald orbs were encircled with dark red hoods with a tinge of grey, his cheeks were stained red and were wet through due to the amount of tears he was spilling. His hands were locked tightly together, balled into tight fists, shaking ever so slightly. His bottom lip was tucked into his mouth, trying to stop it from quivering quite so profusely. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared at me, trying to refrain from looking too vulnerable, but I saw straight past it, I saw past his façade and saw the real Harry. The Harry who had recently been hurt, devastated. He stood up from the black leather sofa, his arms dropped down and his eyes grazing the floor.

“Gemma’s dead.” He spoke. Soon after the words had escaped his swollen, chapped lips; he broke out into a frenzy of uncontrollable tears. He fell onto his knees, cupping his face in his hands as he sobbed. I approached him with haste, kneeling down beside him and placing my hand on his back. Harry’s hands moved from his face and wrapped themselves around me, squeezing me tightly. I felt a slight tugging on my head where Harry had entangled my hair in his hands; his head was rested upon my shoulder as our bodies fused once again, after two weeks of separation. The only question left was: Who is Gemma? Or…who was Gemma.

***

Harry and I lay on my bed, my head resting on his shoulder as he casually combed his fingers through my hair. Harry had stopped crying, he had replaced his vulnerable state with his masculine façade. I was at a loss for words, not being able to think of anything that could comfort him in the slightest.

“I love you Violet.” He proclaimed. I then realised that the last ten minutes we had spent in silence was all time for Harry to think. About what, I don’t know, but the fragility in his voice had gone, the quivering of his lip along with it, he was back.

“I love you too.” I replied. It had become casual for us to say this to each other, but I was thankful every time he said it, more than thankful…honoured. “Harry…” I started, nervous about the next statement. “Who is Gemma?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbow, giving Harry my full, undivided attention. His eyes looked sad, and a little angered as he peered at me. I couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated by his position. He shuffled anxiously, breaking our eye contact momentarily, gaining the necessary courage to continue.

“She’s um…” He started; I could tell that he found this topic uncomfortable. Whoever Gemma was, she meant a lot to him, and I felt terrible for asking so early. “She’s my sister…was my sister.” He announced with sad eyes. I felt my heart sink. How could I have been so selfish?! Thinking that I was Harry’s rebound…I immediately felt a sense of unimaginable anguish. I loved Harry, and knowing that one of his family had died… felt like one of mine did too. I cuddled tighter to him, trying to offer him some sense of comfort, however little it may be. I tried to think of something to cheer him up, I knew full well that there was little I could do right now, he was in agony, and I had to accept that.

“However hard this is for you Harry, I’ll stay by your side. I promise.” I assured, my head resting on his chest that was rising and falling in steady patterns. His hand came down to rest on my head, as he returned to his previous motion of combing his fingers through my dark brown locks.

“Thank you Violet.” He said.

That was when I knew; that whatever Harry and I had…it was here to stay.