indecisive (on hold)

32.

Liz’s POV

A suicide room? Why in the hell do I have a suicide room? My knees ache from being pressed against the concrete floor. The air is crisp and dense. I feel the familiar frost beneath my palms and I feel my eyes close. My lids are heavy and my body is being pulled further and further into the ground. I see black dots; they’re littering my vision and everything is blurry. The stake in the middle of the room shakes, then fades, then is clear, then fades again. I feel the familiar pain. The air being taken out of my lungs.

I try my best to shake off the feeling, but it’s nearly impossible. I can’t pass out. Not here. Not with the door open and Harry only feet away. I stand and my legs wobble. I step out of the room and my knees buckle. I fall, the thump echoing through the halls. I stop and listen for Harry. Is he awake? I don’t hear anything. I try to stand again, gripping the door knob. The key is still in the lock. I shut the door as quietly as I can, which is not very quiet. I lock the door. I fall.

I don’t know how long I lay there. It feels like hours pass, but I know it’s only minutes. I blink away the black around my vision. My mind is foggy and I feel like I can’t think. I crawl, literally crawl, to the next door. I shuffle back into the third room and find A Tale of Two Cities. I place the key where I found it. I can’t risk Harry finding the key and unlocking the door. If he did, hopefully he’d be confused. I throw the book in a drawer under the window seat. I lay there and sigh in relief. I rest for about twenty minutes, my mind still reeling with the images I have just seen. A suicide room.

I need to sleep. I stand and I nearly trip, but I steady myself. I just need to get to Harry. He’ll make me okay. He’ll think I’m okay. I just need to get to Harry. I wobble my way to the second door, stabilizing myself on the walls glowing from the moonlight through the exposed windows. I open the door and I see his body resting in the bed. I shut the door and make my way to him. He stirs.

“Liz?”

His voice is raspy and deep. It’s such a lovely sound. His voice after his most vulnerable state, it’s heavenly and I could listen to it day and night.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright?”

I don’t answer him. I just make my way over to him. I put my leg over his body, my other one following. I move to my spot and I feel a blanket rise, shielding my body from the cold. I just take a deep breath and I feel a tear descend down my cheek.

“Liz?”

I take a deep breath and swallow the lump in my throat.

“Yes?”

“Can I… touch you? Like...cuddle?”

I giggle uncontrollably, but I feel a little hesitant. I mentally slap myself in the face. I need him right now and he wants me. Why would I deny him?

“Yes.”

I immediately feel his strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into his firm body. I stiffen, then I relax. I rest my dainty hands over his. His skin is hot, unlike mine.  His chest rises and falls against my back and I feel his soft breaths against the hairs of my neck. Another tear slides down my cheek.

“Are you okay?”

I feel his lips move through the thin shirt against my shoulder blades. I smile, another tear falling onto the mattress.

“I am now.”

Harry doesn’t respond. He just pulls me further into his body.

***

I wake to the morning lights, shining through my closed lids. I don’t remember falling asleep. I simply remember laying in Harry’s arms and listening to slow of his breathing as tears silently fell from my eyes.  The dampness of my skin is still present on the apples of my cheeks. I try to feel Harry’s strong arms still wrapped around me, but I don’t sense them. I feel my back pressed against something firm, the wall. I take a deep breath and I am met with the beautiful face of Harry Styles. He’s still asleep. I watch the slow rise and fall of his chest. His torso is revealed to me, the blanket resting on his waist. I drag my eyes up and down and study the dips and curves of body. His skin is perfectly tan compared to the black swirls that litter his skin.