YOU GUYS ARE GOING TO HATE ME.
last chapter. this was how it was going to end anyway but I'm so busy right now, with dance and summer studies and all this extra shit. I'm sorry. There will be an epilogue in a few days. I totally rushed the ending, and I'm sorry, but this was how it was going to play out in the first place and I'm just completely stressed with a bunch of things rn!! i love you guys and i hope you dont hate me.
PS : please comment and vote.......... even if you hate me please :) xxxxx
pps i know "live stream" makes no sense and the entire thing makes no sense this waS LIKE 5 IN THE MORNING IM SORRY
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Chapter 21
Harry’s POV
I sat alone in the back of the unfamiliar car. Two of them were in the front seat. I didn't take their names, I didn't care about their names. They didn't take mine, either. They just gave me a look and gave me a towel and said, "Son, you need to get in the car. We'll take you from here."
It was dark outside, dark enough that I shouldn't have been able to see anything around the car. Except, I could see perfectly. The road and cars and hell around us was outlined in red, picking up places and shadows around me. Then it was all blue. The same things were outlined with the navy strobe. Then red. Then blue. Repeat.
We were driving pretty fast, but not fast enough. I felt like the road under the tires was sand and that we were moving quickly, yet going no place at all. I heard loud, screaching commands coming in through the radio. The feedback stung my ears, making me flinch and hunch my shoulders. We needed to go faster. Wherever they were taking me- wherever the fuck they thought I should be taken, however the fuck they thought the destination would help anything- we needed to get there faster.
Liam was following us. Him and the rest of the boys. I wondered if they thought we were going too slow, too, or if it was just me. I could see from the mirror in the front seat Liam's hardened face behind us being lit up with red and then blue and then repeat.
I scratched my sticky face. The salt water was drying, thank god. But only on my face. My jeans were still heavy and wet, my shoes were filled with puddles on the floor of the car, next to my bare feet, and my t-shirt was clinging to my skin, making me shiver in the night air that was entering through the slightly opened front window that I wished they would close. My long hair dripped, soaked, onto my shoulders, weighing me down more than I already was. Unfortunately, the water that hadn't stopped sprouting from my eyes dampened my cheeks all over again, creating less hope that they would ever be dry. Ever again.
I was numb. So numb, that I could hardly fucking process how damp the letter in my pocket was and how when I pulled it out to place it on the seat next to me, the damn pen was spread in all directions all over the paper.
I bit my lip, trying to bit a hole the entire way through, feeling the blood fill my mouth.
I punched the door. I punched it so hard, letting out a scream. My wrist was struck with pain, but I punched it again, screaming even louder. In the front, they didn't mind. I think they even tried to ignore my outburst. One of them let out a sigh, though. They thought I had tried. I HAD tried. They felt for me. But I, obviously, hadn't tried hard enough.
I hadn't had any other options.
****
The few weeks after Louis got home were widely stretched, threads being ripped from their seams and loose ends becoming even more so. It was only a few weeks- but it had felt like years. Everyday dragged on, endlessly, and Louis had pulled back from reality. It was as if he was there, but with a sheet of thick, foggy glass in front of him wherever he went- which hadn't varied much from his room to the kitchen during his time at the flat.
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