Fire (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 56

“Do you want something to eat?” He asked, closing his front door and taking an apple out of the fruit bowl on the central table.

“Uh, no I’m fine thank you.” I said, gliding my hand over the smooth marble surface of the kitchen counter. He soon joined me, dropping all of his keys on various platforms.

“Are you sure, you must be hungry…” He asked. He wrapped his strong arms around my waist, placing his chin on my shoulder. There was nothing in this world that would ever compare to the sense of stability Harry’s touch provided me with. Although every time he did happen to touch me, a sudden fear of him letting go consumed me. The conviction that the strength wouldn’t last forever and that perhaps one day it might be the last time I touch him ruined me. I prayed, hoped and dreamed that that day would never come. But there always loomed the certainty of separation, an absolute guarantee of loss.

“No, I’m fine.” I assured, placing my hands over his. He began to rock ever so gently, his body supporting mine completely. I was still weak from the wound, and of course my lack of motivation to move, but Harry brought me back to life day by day.

“Are you tired?” He asked, obviously eager to satisfy my whim.

“A little.” I admitted, letting my hands fall from his, instead rubbing them over my eyes. He spun me around gently and lifted me up. He carried me so that my legs were around his waist, my chin on his shoulder, and my arms hanging down his back. I could’ve fallen asleep right there with ease. It appeared that – if Harry’s strength could hold – I would’ve drifted away in his arms, not being any the wiser.

He walked me through to his bedroom, jabbing the door shut with the back of his foot, and gently laid me down on the bed after pulling back the covers. I kept my eyes open, keen to not fall asleep too quickly. He worked my clothes off me, and I adjusted my body to make it easier for him. He quickly disposed of my garments, leaving me almost bare under his covers. This didn’t bother me anymore – the whole ‘being naked’ part. It was completely natural, almost right to be this way around Harry. I’d never anticipated this desire to be so open to someone like this. Never encountered the urge to see someone in their purest form with such intensity. After he’d finished fiddling with the blankets and covers, he sat down on the small patch of free bed in front of my body, placing his right palm on my cheek. My eyes automatically fluttered shut, the feeling of his ridiculous and slightly unnatural warmth providing me with a rush of sudden energy.

“You’re so beautiful.” He admitted. I noticed his eyes flickering over various parts of my face, never moving to the parts of my body that I knew other men would find more desirable. No. He remained completely focused on my face. He brushed his thumb over my eyebrow, gently caressing away each and every worry on my mind. I smiled dully at his compliment, again, not truly warming to it. He pursed his lips as he gauged my reaction, I had a feeling he would keep on complimenting me until I understood that he would never stop, which I was okay with.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, his tone becoming a little more alert, a hint of alarm crossing his porcelain features. I looked up to his face, the dim light of the little remaining sun catching his sculpted characteristics in dark shadows.

“I’m just…daydreaming.” I said. I’d noticed a complete lack of thinking lately. All my thoughts already firmly set on revenge. Of course I’d never tell Harry of Caleb’s involvement in Gemma’s death. I knew it was selfish, and I knew that Harry would never stop looking for her murderer, even when the secret lay so close to home. He’d never, ever have to know.

A small smile crossed his face, and the little crinkles by his eyes became deeper as he beamed down at me, stroking a little hair away from my eyes, and pulling the duvet over my chin.

“Get some sleep.” He ordered gently, leaning down and pressing a small kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes, as he got closer, letting my skin feel the touch of his warm, plump lips. Another feeling I knew couldn’t be replaced.

He stood up but continued looking down on me, his eyes running over the mound my figure made in the bed.

“I love you.” He declared, a half smile crossing his lips.

“I love you too.” I replied, smiling into the blanket. He turned around and walked out; closing the door behind him. I waited until his footsteps were out of earshot to turn over. I was safe in the knowledge that Harry wouldn’t come back in for a little while; I was safe to plan every last detail of Caleb’s murder. Just like I’d been doing for the past week.

Planning the end of my suffering.

***

I guessed the quiet thoughts in my head were enough to wake me, or maybe the plans not quite drastic enough to keep me conscious. Either way, I seemed to be.

There was no light anymore, only the white blur of the moonlight that perfectly aligned with Harry’s skylight window. It shone down onto the duvet, creating a white pool that seemed to reflect all around the ill-lit room. I placed my palms either side of my hips, moving my body up the bed. The sharp pain of my wound returned to me momentarily, to which I let out an angry hiss through gritted teeth. It soon dulled though, and my desire to see Harry’s face flamed up. I automatically turned my head to the side, looking for the mess of curls to be sprawled out on the pillow beside me, but I saw nothing other than an empty space of crinkled sheets where he used to lay.

I twisted my body around gently, being careful to avoid the searing pain of my cut once again. I placed my feet on the wooden floor and hopped over to Harry’s chest of drawers to retrieve some clothes. I pulled out a large jumper of Harry’s and a pair of his boxer shorts.

I noticed the door was slightly ajar, and a little bit of light was visible through it. I guess Harry had checked in on me while I slept and forgot to close it. I ventured forward, pulling it open and letting the light from the kitchen in. I winced as the light sent of surge of pain through my head, my eyes completely accustomed to the darkness. I moved forward nevertheless, eager to discover the whereabouts of Harry. I moved past all the counters, turning my head around the corner, where I saw him laying on one of his black settees. A small amount of pain beeped in my chest as I saw his state. His body lay curled up in a ball, his head almost touching his knees, he must have been freezing. I jogged towards him, placing my hands on his shoulders and gently shaking him.

“Harry? Harry, wake up.” I said, slight concern in my voice due to the confusion I felt. He lifted his head up abruptly, his eyes a little droopy. I smiled, knowing he was alright. As his body unfolded slightly, and his hands came back into view, I noticed the silver glint of something grasped in between his fingers. He pulled it out further, not realising as he stretched. It was the silver photo frame, which housed the photo of him, his mother and his sister.

He looked at me a little dazed, my thoughts were way ahead of his. I smacked his lips a few times before completely focusing on me, although my eyes were firmly fixed on the photo.

“Is everything alright?” He asked. I couldn’t look away from the photo to answer his question. Gemma’s eyes stared into mine, her unmoving smile seemed to delve into me, asking me a burning question. Her whole life flashed before me. Her and Harry playing as children, their laughter and smiles, and here I was, blocking Harry out of the most important thing in both of their lives. And apparently her death. I was so ready to say it. My mouth was so ready to admit what I knew, to spill Caleb’s dark secret. I needed to let it out. Her eyes burned into me, I could almost feel the physical pain radiating through my head! I needed to say something!

“Yes. I’m fine.” I said, my teeth clenched. He took my hand, placing the frame back onto the table and pulling me up from my crouching position.

He guided me back into the bedroom, but the whole time, I felt Gemma’s eyes on me. I felt my own guilt like a constant weight on my shoulders. It was a burden that I knew wouldn’t be cleared until I had justice. I wouldn’t be able to live my life until I had killed Caleb.