Promising Memoirs | soft h.s.

Chapter 75.

A/N:

heart·break·ing:
the definition of this chapter.

This chapter contains many, many, many entries from Harry's journal...but not all! Enjoy!

S x

Songs for the chapter:

If I Could Fly - One Direction
Flicker (Acoustic) - Niall Horan

Aubrey's POV.

Exactly a half hour later, we were all standing in front of Harry's room; however, I was slightly to the side. I couldn't physically see him through the glass; at least, not now. There was just something deep inside me causing me to do that. I didn't know what it was, until time passed, which I figured out what it was — fear. I was afraid to see him in whatever state he was. I didn't want to believe that this was actually a reality. 

Each of them asked me to go first, but I declined. I needed some time. After a lot of pressure, they gave up, and Gemma went in first. The rest followed her, each sitting about five minutes each. Unfortunately it felt like everything they stayed one second. Why was I thinking like this? I wanted to see him. I needed to see him. Push past those fears Aubrey, you can do this.

"Aubrey?" Eleanor's soft voice spoke, just as I felt her hand on my upper arm. I turned to look at her and my eyes were somehow now dry. 

My arms held Harry's journal very close to my chest. It was so important to him; and now, so important to me. There were still so many pages filled with his thoughts that I hadn't gotten to yet. I probably haven't gone to the part to where Liam said there were explanations I everything in here. I had to take my time with reading it. I knew I had to do it soon though. How was I supposed to know how much time is actually left? 

No Aubrey. Stop. He's going to live. Yes, you're hurt, but you don't want him gone. You just got him back. Back after fourteen years. You've been with him for ten months, without the month apart. Only ten short months. You needed more. You still want more, but you can't have that. Can you?

"Yeah?" I responded lowly.

"We all saw him. It's your turn." She relied in the same tone, a sad smile on her face. I nodded and turned the corner to where everyone else was standing. All of their eyes were on me. They all thought something was wrong with me. They probably expected that I'd want to be the first one to see him, based on everything that had happened earlier.

I slowly walked towards his room, my eyes truly focused on the floor. I stood in front of his door and took the deepest breath I ever took. One of my hands distanced from my chest and moved onto the handle. I took the deepest breath as I pushed it down, making my way inside, and closing the door behind me. 

As soon as I looked up at the sight of him, my eyes immediately swelled up with tears, but I didn't let them fall. Tubes were hooked up to him and machines filled the space. A stand nearby, hung the saline bag. Machines beeping, indicating his heart rate and oxygen levels, echoed through the room. His chest rose and fell, which is what physically assured me that he was still alive, even though, he wasn't well. 

Dark bruises, scrapes, and cuts covered the skin I could see. Nonetheless, his face was still beautiful. The rest was wrapped in white bandages just as the doctor mentioned, his head, chest, and shoulder. A thin white blanket covered him, keeping him warm from the cool temperature in this confined space.

My feet slowly made my way towards His unconscious self. I placed his journal just on the edge of bed right next to him. I let my hand softly graze his injuries from his head, shoulder, and down to his heart. My eyes travelled a million times, inspecting every single part of his body. Before I knew it, I was holding his hand and sitting on chair that was sat right next to the bed.