✓ Meanwhile [h.styles]

.sixteen.

Des' fingers tighten over Astraya's face, forcibly turning her so they lock eyes. She can barely see out of her right eye from where he struck her. There's a pressure in her head that makes her worry. He has a gun pressed against her neck, shoving it forward until it becomes a challenge to even breathe, and she hates to admit it, but part of her wishes he would just pull the trigger already.

The pain is almost unbearable.

"I want you to beg for it." His voice is gentle but the words are nasty as they strike her right in the heart.

She doesn't want to confess anything to him. Doesn't want to tell him that the walls are closing in on her and her dead brother's eyes are still watching her with that blank expression he's had on for weeks ever since she met Harry. The last time they cleared was when he was shot, and then they dulled and never came back. She doesn't want to tell him that she doesn't want his hands on her or his eyes trailing over her face, because that's somehow worse than having the gun pressed against her skin.

"I'll kill you if you want me to. No bullshit." He grabs the back of her head, pulling at her hair with an iron-grip to keep her in place as he nods and blinks down at where she is. "I know you want it. I can feel you giving up."

She opens her mouth but can't articulate her thoughts out loud. Something hits the door and Des whips his head back with a glare. Gunshots sound all throughout the large space and he smiles when the door opens, still casually keeping her bruised body up with his own. The gun is nearly suffocating her, and she tries so hard to push him away as a warning to him that she's close to passing out. She splays her hand out against his chest but he doesn't budge. After a moment, she allows her head to fall onto his left shoulder, closing her heavy eyelids and trying to breathe as much as she can to keep from fainting.

His hands go lower than her waist and she brings hers up slowly, feeling her way to his face. Her fingertips graze his smirking lips before moving upward, softly keeping them on his closed eyes before pushing them in as hard as she can. Something snaps beneath his eyes but she keeps shoving forward until a piercing scream breaks through his mouth. "You fucking-"

A gun is shot from directly behind him and she freezes like she was the one that was hit. He falls to the floor and brings her down with him. What bothers her, though, isn't that she lands on his chest, but that there's something warm and bitter on her tongue and face.

She tries to wipe the blood from her skin but her nails are sharp and she's just spreading the red around. The smell is so encompassing and disgusting and she feels stuck in her own body. Lucky for being alive but so unlucky to be lying between two bodies; one being her brother whose eyes remind her of Mona Lisa as they follow her every move.

She accepts this fate for a few seconds. Everything is quiet as she has this out of body experience, turning on her side with fresh tears in her eyes, and raising her hand to push Uriah's hair away from his bloody face.

The bullet hole in the middle of his forehead taunts her but she refuses to look at it.

I love you, she tries to tell him. The words don't come out and she shakes her head at how useless she is right now. I love you, Uriah. Her throat is burning now.

Someone makes a grab for her body and she's hauled up but doesn't attempt to stand on her own. Her eyes stay on her brother, lips still attempting to mutter the words to him.

Is she shaking? She moves her gaze to her trembling fingers with a frown.

"Hey," a soft whisper swims into focus and she doesn't push back when the person pushes her hair from her face. They're gentle but firm at the same time; familiar in a way that screams Harry. "Hey, I got you. You're okay, just going through shock."