Lost and Found || Punk H.S

Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Harry's P.O.V

I can see the desperation in her eyes more clearly than anything.

She looks at 'skinny' like an old pervert looks at a young child. Each time her beautifully terrified eyes meet with a sharp object, they stay there a second too long. Every morning when her eyes connect with the cabinet that holds her depressive pills, they dart away becoming watery. But when those torn, deep brown eyes meet my battered, indecisive green ones, they only leave when the very last second that they have a chance to. They do not want to leave mine. The not-so-subtle desperation contained within them show me how she feels in her own reality whilst she smiles in everyone else's. She wants to be saved by the love always held within mine. Her eyes relax when they see that I still love connecting with them. She does not know that I am doing everything I can to make sure she knows this. Never could she tell that I have never had the ability to lose my burning love for her.

Her mind is deep, filled with horrors that few in this world are ready to face. Hope does not belong there. If it somehow showed up in any other form but my love it would be shred to bits in a millisecond. There is pain, fear, hatred, anxiety, and the ever-present thought of pure, raw, death and desperation. Temptation is her enemy. Willpower is a troubling fact for her innocent mind. She has more willpower to not eat than she does to force the apples down her sore throat. She knows she has to keep herself and unborn child alive for me. And I know she wants that as well. Even behind the desperation of self-destruction and scarring mutilation, is the desperation to live another day after today.

Thoughts that grew within those four years practically alone now stab the inner corners of her mind each second of the days she has to endure. She does not believe that she is beautiful. Enough. Skinny. Worth life. Wanted. Cared for. She doesn't believe any of it. Yet at the same time she cannot deny the love I so obviously have for her. My love for her has none of the bounds that other, teenage 'loves' seem to have these days. I do not only love her by her hair, her body, her eyes, her smile. But every inch of her. Her broken, sad mind entices me, intriguing every nerve within my own mind. Her beautiful, tattered soul encases mine in a binding that can not be broken apart by any physical means known to this current world.

The quirks held through these times still cause my heart to skip continuous beats. Cause my memory to spark up an image of our beautiful past lives. The way her tongue barely pokes out as she takes her small bites of food. The way she breathes in and out heavily only once when she steps out the door into the outside world. The way she rubs under her eyes after she finishes crying. The way her eyes light up when she thinks of something out if the blue. The way she is not afraid of a horror movie until she has to face reality after it is over. She'll try to cover up her hiccups but fail. I can't help but remember every time something made her as close to happy as she can come. And I can't help but adore the fact that this only happens when she is with me.

Yes of course behind her sad eyes there is that lovelier type of desperation. The desperation to live in my arms another day. That type of desperation is not only felt by her, but by me as well. I remember feeling that desperation even stronger than I still do now.

My fourth Christmas without her I had almost lost all of this. I had almost lost the chance of being with her again. Feeling her love. Having a child on the way. Becoming engaged. I was centimetres away from losing it all without even knowing it at the time.

*Flashback*

"Get your lazy ass out of there Harry" Liam's voice fills my dulled senses. I shake my head before realising that he can't even see me from behind my locked and barricaded door. I toss the now empty bottle of vodka at the wall and move on to my next one. The shattered glass gathers with the already fairly large pile underneath the stained brown wall. It's not like it could make it any uglier.