A one shot where Harry wants to be with Louis, but Louis is dead.
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I wished I could've said goodbye. Before work I always gave him a kiss and told him that I loved him and said goodbye, but that day I had brushed it off. I was running late and had decided that one day missed wasn't going to mean anything. But it did. That day was the day that my husband died and I didn't get to kiss him and remind him that I loved him before he left to be killed.
It was the anniversary of my husband's death. It had been a year ago today that he was brutally killed in a burglary gone wrong. I ate myself up wondering why it had been him. There were tons of other hostages, but they chose him. I guess it was better than picking a mother or a man with kids or even a child.
People always ask me how I dealt with it. How had I managed to live without my better half, and to be quite honest, I had no clue how I did either. My mother says that I'm coping in all the wrong ways; she thinks that to get over it in a healthy way I must embrace the death. I tell her that I had embraced it all too much and that's why I'm here now. Alone in our house.
You wouldn't believe how many casseroles came the first week. It was as if every lady on the block made a casserole so I didn't have to worry about cooking. I wish they hadn't. I would give nothing more than to have something to do. Having the free time let my mind think about him and how much I would miss him.
"Harry you have to get up! You've been doing really well, don't throw it all out the door, yeah? Why don't we go out!" My friend, Niall suggests. I had lost contact with him after we both graduated high school, but soon after Louis' death he contacted me again and we've become closer. Death had a strange way of bringing people together.
"I don't want to. I want to stay inside. Can I have one day to veg?" I groan. I was lying in bed wearing a pair of sweatpants: Louis' sweatpants. The covers had been tangled and pushed to the bottom of the bed, leaving me mostly exposed to the small cool air created by the fan above me.
"Harry this isn't healthy. Do you think Louis would've wanted you to end up like this? He would've wanted you to continue living, to go out and have fun!" Niall tries. I had to give it to the boy, he was very persistent. One day he stood in my door way for 2 hours convincing me to go to dinner with him. It was that day that I knew he cared.
"Does it look like Louis' here to tell me what he wants, Niall? I appreciate the effort but not today. I'll do it tomorrow, I promise." I guess he hears the desperation in my voice because he gives me a look before walking off.
Before his death I hadn't slept alone in 5 years. I was so used to having someone next to me, feeling the body heat of another. I raised the temperature in the house to try and give the illusion that someone was next to me. I had tried nearly everything to simulate the feeling of being with someone, and it worked all night until the following morning when I went to wrap my arms around him and tell him that I loved him. It was in those moments when I realized I was truly and utterly alone.
"Why him?" I mutter. I take one of my pillows and bring it into my arms as I turn on my side. I hug the pillow to my chest, wishing it turned to flesh and bone. I would give my whole life to have one more moment with him.
I throw the pillow at the wall in a fit of rage and stand. I wanted to be surrounded by the feeling of him. I go to our closet, the closet I used to share with him before his untimely death, the closet that still housed our clothes. I pull one of his sweaters off the hanger and press it to my face and imagine that I'm hugging him. The sweater no longer smelt of him, but if I tried hard enough I could imagine that his arms were here wrapping around my body, embracing me.
I cry out. Knowing that he wasn't here and he would never be again. Not again and not ever. The feelings of being with him were growing stronger and the familiar wanting to end my life came again.
In the first days of his death I thought it would be better to just kill myself and be with him, but with the help of my family I had gotten rid of those thoughts and found the beauty in life. But in this moment life wasn't beautiful, life was just a waiting room for death. Death was the ultimate ending to every story and I wanted desperately to end mine. I wanted to write the final The End on everything and be with Louis for all of eternity.
I find myself in the bathroom looking into the mirror. I remember brushing our teeth here the night before his death. I remember him telling me that he loved me so much and him pressing a kiss to my temple before we both headed off to bed. I wanted that feeling back. I craved the feeling of being kissed and loved and nothing would suffice until it was Louis' lips kissing me and Louis telling me he loved me.
Nothing would be okay until I could be with him.
I pull out bottle of pills. I didn't care what kind of pills they were if they got the job done, if they gave me the freedom I needed. I pour a heading amount of white pills into my hand and swallow them without thinking.
I fall to the ground and feel my legs go numb as my vision blurs. It was working, this had to be what working felt like. I feel myself drifting in and out of slumber as the pills take affect.
I feel a feeling of calm wash over me and I open my eyes to see Louis. He wore jeans and a simple shirt. He looked so real and alive. I reach out for him, but he only shakes his head.
"You've done a bad thing, Harry. You wanted to be with me so badly that you destroyed everything going for you. You had family and friends that were rooting for you and go behind their backs and do this! Harry you're supposed to be strong. You can't die like this and I'm not going to let you," Louis tells me.
"I did this for us!" I protest. I try to stand, but find it nearly impossible. Louis crouches so he can look me in the eye.
"You did this for you, Haz. I want to be with you too, baby, but we can't. We weren't destined to be together in the end. We were destined to love each other and show each other what love is, but you have a greater purpose. You were my one true love, Harry Styles, but I'm not going to keep you from being someone else's. I've seen what a great man you will become. Go seek it." Louis presses his pink lips to my forehead.
As his lips leave my skin I feel a heaviness settle inside of me. When I open my eyes I was sitting in a hospital bed. Niall was next to me, his hand holding mine tight. His eyes were red and he looked like he had been crying.
"Harry, you're...awake! I've been worried sick about you!" He says, standing and pressing a button on the side of my bed. A doctor comes in, smiling at me.
"Mr. Styles, you're awake! A relief, you were dead for nearly 3 minutes until we brought you here. You've been unconscious for a number of days and Mr. Horan hadn't left your side." The doctor chuckles.
I was shocked that Niall had stayed here for days to make sure I was okay. I was constantly running after Louis and I forgot about the people around me that loved me.
"You're going to make a full recovery. I would thank Mr. Horan here if I were you. If he hadn't called as soon as he did you wouldn't've made it out alive," The doctors says. I turn to Niall and give him a smile. He squeezes my hand, understand.
"It's okay, no need to thank me." He assures me.
