Out of Love (narry)

You broke the promise

"What the fuck are you doing here, Daisy?" Harry finally lets go of her.

"Who the hell was that?" She angrily points back at the door.

"What do you want?" He ignores her question.

"Are you cheating?!" Daisy digs her nail into his chest. "I swear if you are, you are going to—"

"Shut up." Harry snaps. "If you're not going answer my question you're gonna have to leave."

"Where is he?" She breathes out.

"Why do you care? You've never cared before, why now?" He was getting angrier by the minute.

"I need to see him." She looks away. "I need to know how he's doing?"

"Fuck you." He spits out harshly. "When he needed you the most you fucking threw him out, you didn't care about him. You never once called to know how he was doing. You never cared!"

"Things changed." Daisy looks back at him with tears in her eyes.

"A little too late for that." Harry turns around and walks over to the kitchen.

"Where is he?" She follows him.

"Not here, obviously." He presses his palms on the counter.

"No shit," Daisy huffs in annoyance. "I need to see him."

"He's gone." Harry could feel the lump in his throat as he thinks about how he's going to tell her.

"What do you mean he's gone? Did he move again?" She frowns. "Did you break up with him? Did you cheat on him?"

"What? No." He shakes his head vigorously.

"Then what?" She said losing her patience. "Spit it out already, dammit!"

"He's fucking gone, he's dead.." He says with a quiver in his voice. "He's dead."

"That's not funny." The blonde clenches her jaw in pure anger.

"Daisy, your brother... he—"

"There's no way." She looks into his eyes. "Where is he?! Fuck! Tell me!!"

"In Paris." Harry blinks away the tears. "He wanted to pass away in Paris, so we went—"

"Stop saying that. Stop fucking lying."

"I am not lying!" He yells. "Why would I lie about something like that!?"

"Because you... you don't want me to see him. You're fucking evil." She pushes him. "Tommy is my brother and I want to see him!"

"Tommy went to you when he needed some support but you turned your back on him, you let him think he wasn't loved. You never called or texted him to ask if he was doing alright, or if he was safe. He was fucking homeless for two months!" Harry starts breathing hard. "He got very ill and..."

"I-I did text him." She tears up.

"Yeah, after he had finally settled down. After he didn't need your help." He pushes past her to the lounge room.

"Why is he— why Paris?" She turns around to walk over to him.

"He wanted to be there for the last few days of his life, so we went there." Harry looks out the window, he couldn't look at her. "He was in love with that city."

"You went with him?"

"I did," He runs his hand through his hair.

"What... did he suffer?" She asks scared to know.