WILD // (Harry Styles)

T H I R T E E N

CHAPTER 13

HARRY

I've sat here alone staring at the fireplace for 4 hours. My eyes shifts once in a while, looking over at her easel, with her painting of Zayn still on it. I feel like my heart's not beating. My brain is dead. My lungs not breathing.

"I have to stay to talk to this producer," I say, interrupting the silence. It's what I said to her the night she was taken.

"Get home fast," I recite her, and I close my eyes. She told me to get home fast.

I got there 10 minutes too late. If I had just gone home with her, or if I had told her to stay until I was ready.

I didn't even think about Zayn, that he could potentially be of any danger. We moved to New York for christ sake. And she still couldn't escape him.

Her birthday is next month. She will never be 17.

We will never get married. We will never kiss again.

"I love you Harry, I always will." I cry from the memory. That is the last thing she said to me.

I will always love her. I can't... love anyone else. I can't be without her. But now I have to be.

A ding from the elevator forces my body to wake up. Niall walks slowly into the flat, with bloodshot, shiny eyes. His lids are red, the tip of his nose with. His hair points in every direction.

"You know, I always knew Claire would be better off with me," he starts, his voice shaky and unsteady. He looks awful. And the way he struggles to stand, I would think he's drunk.

"I mean I told her many times that you would just end up hurting her," he nods to himself as he moves towards me. He laughs a bit, before I see a tear fall. He leans on the kitchen counter.

"I never thought you'd end up killing her, though," he says, meeting my eyes with his.

He shakes his head slightly, and his eyes clench together as he starts to sob. I take my eyes off of him, looking back at the easel.

"And if you loved her like you said you did, this must be painful for you," I hear Niall from over my shoulder.

"But, no... You deserve to live with this. You deserve to be stuck with this feeling forever, because she's not coming back, and that is you fault Harry."

He's probably expecting me to get up from this sofa and beat the living crap out of him. But I just want to sit here, and stare at her painting. Plus, he's right. It is my fault.

Yes, Zayn killed her.

But he wouldn't have the chance to if I had to went home with her as planned. Another ding from the elevator appears and Louis steps in.

"Hey... Is everything alright?" he blinks with wide eyes, as he notices me almost lifelessly lying and Niall drunk as ever, crying over the kitchen counter.

"I saw the police cars outside... Did they find her? Did they find Claire?" He says with hope in his voice. He doesn't know. I'm not going to tell him. I can't say the words out loud.

I get up from the sofa, my body feeling a thousand times heavier and I walk to the bedroom, slamming the door shut. I hear mumbling of voices behind me before I hear Louis crying as well. Niall told him.

How am I supposed get through this? How am I supposed to live through this?

How dare you leave me, Claire?

I stare at the ceiling as my back hits the mattress.

Did you think it was okay to leave me behind?