Black

XXVIII

I clenched his shirt as I let out all that has been trapped inside me for a year and a half.

"Zoe, go to your room," he said, "Go." and the sound of footsteps leaving the room followed it.

And I cried. I cried like there was no tomorrow. I cried to try and lift the weights that pressed on me. I cried because I was a human.

"I'm here," he said, his voice muffled due to his mouth that was pressed against my head. "It's going to be fine." he kissed the top of my head.

We stood there for god knows how long, he held me and rocked me slowly, his shirt drenching with my salt tears. It was like the pain of the past year came in waves, minutes of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for recovering breaths, before hurling me back into the outstretched arms of grief.

The sobs that wracked my body soon turned into low sniffles until I finally stopped crying, yet he didn't loosen his hold on me and waited for me to calm down. I closed my eyes, feeling my muscles relax in his embrace. His heartbeat acted as the relaxing music that calmed down my nerves and his scent acted as the rubbing alcohol that eased my wound slightly.

I pulled away, even though I wanted to stay there forever. My eyes felt like they were weighted down by weights as I struggled to open them. My body swayed to the left and the world suddenly got blurry again.

I felt his hands on both sides of my body again, holding me back close to his chest. "Hey, I got you," he murmured. "Let's get you downstairs, you need food," he said, rubbing my back. "Can you walk, Angel?"

"Would it be okay if I carried you?" he asked after a while when I didn't give him an answer. "Angel," he placed his finger underneath my chin, lifting my face up so I was looking at him. My head was so light, I couldn't even keep my eyes open. He sighed, "I'm going to carry you, okay?" and his arms were underneath my legs, lifting my body up.

We finally left the bathroom and got out of the room. He tightened his grip around my body as we descended the stairs and then placed me on the couch, the same couch that had a knife protruding from it once. I sat up, "Zoe," I whispered.

"I will go get her," he said and his hands that rested on my body vanished as he went back upstairs. I laid my head on the back of the couch.

"Hey," I suddenly heard and bolted from my position. I looked at Styles who held a very calm Zoella. He must have talked to her.

He bent down and placed her on my lap, her arms going around my body instantly.

"I'm going to see if I could find you something to eat."

Zoe didn't mutter a word, we just hugged, until I felt her drift to sleep. I sighed and placed her on the couch, getting up. I pushed my legs to walk to the switches of the lights around the house, steadying myself by holding whatever comes into view, and switched them all off. The windows brought in enough light.

I then headed to the kitchen where I found Styles standing in front of the counter, his back muscles visible as he worked on something. I walked towards the little bottles that sat on the table, gathering them all in my hands.

"Angel, what are you doing?" I went to the trash can and threw all of them in. I got out of the kitchen, feeling his gaze on me all along as I left, and sat on the floor beside the couch Zoella slept on.

Not a second later, Harry came in and placed a plate of peanut butter and jam sandwiches in front of me, leaving right after.

He sat beside me when he came back, placing a warm blanket around my shoulders. He reached out for a sandwich and offered it to me, "May be just a sandwich, but I made it and that means it tastes like heaven, c'mon eat."