King Tomlinson {L.S.}

9. Anguish

H A R R Y  sat on the seat beside the window, watching as the rain fell. He felt a pain in his heart, and he didn't know what it was, but he knew it was nothing good. He had woken up that morning to Louis telling him he was going to head into the village for the day. When the young omega asked to accompany the king, Louis quickly declined, promising to take Harry on his next trip into town. So, now Harry was stuck indoors, watching raindrops slowly drip down the glass pane of the window, boredom filling his mind while some sort of pain filled his heart. 

A knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. "Coming!" He called out in a soft voice. He rose from his seat and wrapped his robe tighter around his body. Louis had asked him to wear the satin pink robe, and who was Harry to deny the king. Slowly, he opened the door, and peeked his head out, smiling at the servant in front of him. It was a boy who couldn't have been over the age of thirteen, holding out two letters. 

"These just arrived today, My Queen," he said in a higher sort of voice for a lad, but Harry assumed he hadn't hit his stage of maturation yet. Reaching out with a pale and slightly shaky hand, the omega grabbed the letters and nodded in thanks before shutting the door and retreating back into the room. He hated whatever was going on with him. His emotions were all over the place, and he wasn't acting like the excitable omega he used to be. 

The young lad, the soon-to-be queen of Yorkshire, laid himself down on the bed and stared at the letters. He frowned deeply when he realized they had come from Andromeda. The last thing Harry wanted was to hear from his father about how he was due to return to see Harry and help plan the wedding the following day. With a sigh, Harry reached out and grabbed the letter opener from Louis' bedside stand. Tearing open the letters, Harry's eyes moved over them quickly. The first was in his mother's handwriting. It was shaking, and it seemed to be some sort of apology. I'm sorry he never truly treated you like a son. Harry frowned in confusion. A servant. . . arsenic. Harry's heart dropped. He spotted a few water marks from tears his mother had probably shed while writing the letter. Dropping the letter into his lap, the young omega let his tears fall for his father. Yes, he hated the man, but the man was still his father. Besides, Desmond only hated Harry because Harry was an omega, so technically, it was Harry's fault his father hated him, wasn't it?

Clearing his throat and cleaning his face, Harry pulled out the second letter. It was Niall, who apologized for what Harry was about to read, and had informed Harry that he would be arriving in Yorkshire the following day to help with the wedding since neither of his parents could make it. He told Harry he was sorry for his losses an-

Harry froze. Losses?  But hadn't Harry only lost his father? After finishing Niall's letter, he pulled out a smaller piece of paper. It was his mother's handwriting again, except much shakier this time.

harry, my darling. oh, my little love. 

I know your father and i haven't Treated you well, and i know i could have treated you much better. perhaps if i had continued to treat you, take care of you, and love you the way i used to, i wouldn't feel the need to be under the circumstances which are making me write this letter. With the death of your father And my new loss of you to king tomlinson, i've decided i'm not Sure if i can go about living by myself in this castle. i've tried to move on, find a New suitor for myself, but It's all become too much in just A matter of days. knowing i'll never see you walk the halls of this home of ours haunts me, as does your father's spirit. he Lingers about here, and i can't handle any of this anymore. the stress has caused heart problems, according to our healer. so, i've decided that instead of allowing my heart to be the end of me, i will be the end of me. i Love you, my son. please don't mourn for me for too long, and remember what i've always told you, little one. treat people with kindness.

all the love in the world,

mother dearest 

Harry's eyes widened. He dropped the letter and broke into nothing but a puddle of tears and loud sobs. He felt as if his entire heart had been ripped from his chest. As the omega gasped for breath, trying to calm himself down, his hands fisted into the sheets. "No. no, no, no, no, no," he repeated like a mantra. "No, Mummy, please!" He screamed, hands tangling in his curls as he tugged at them harshly in anguish. "Please, no-o," He sobbed, hiccuping every now and then. 

•

Seconds passed. Then minutes. Then hours.

Harry was sitting on the bed, eyes no longer red and puffy. His breathing was no longer erratic. His hair was still a deranged tangle of curls. He swallowed thickly, eyes blank as he stared at the wall across from him. Around him were the scattered remnants of what had been Niall's letter and his father's first letter for the omega had torn them into pieces while mourning. His mother's suicide note was still clenched tightly in his hands, but Harry couldn't bring himself to rip it up. 

He stayed like that until Louis' return.