Flicker (H.S)

22.

*sexual content*

01.

“I’ve told my mum I loved her, I’ve told my dad I loved him, I told Mel, I told Luke, once upon a time. And even writing his name makes me feel this thing in the bottom of my stomach, like a weight. I think it’s guilt. Guilt for killing Luke and all those people by the river and Niall and almost killing my father. Guilt.

And as the days pass the weight keeps getting heavier and heavier. I think that one day the weight will get so heavy that it drops right through my stomach lining, killing me. My one wish is that you aren’t there to see it. I thought I was going to die with you next to me, holding my hand. But I want you to remember me as strong, not weak as I am now.

I love you.

I’m sorry.”

[autobiography of Harry Styles; read October 1st, 2016]

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[present day, Oakwood, November 3rd].

HER throat is sore from tears and sobs ripping through her vocal chords as they enter the house, silent. His shoes clack against the hardwood floor but the sound doesn’t reach her ears. The door slams but in the depths of her mind, it’s a simple whisper into the void.

Because the crack in her heart has ripped. It’s no longer a crack- it’s a chasm. A chasm right between her breasts, behind the cage guarding the bloody, beating mess of veins and memories that is so, so close to being ripped in half.

Cracks can be fixed. Chasms are different.

“Do you- um.” His voice trails off as he looks to his shuffling feet. They stand in the kitchen; her palms pressed flat against the counter with her eyelids squeezed shut, his back leaning against the doorway. “Do you wanna go to sleep now? Cause, like, I think maybe you would feel better if you slept.”

She lets a tear leave the wells of her eyes, streaming down blotchy skin to hang off of her chin. It wasn’t this cold in the house when she left. As a matter of fact, it was warm. She traipsed around in a simple uni jumper and shorts that now hang off of her hips before school, completely comfortable. But that was before the car-kisses, and the red-lips, and the breathless stoplight-snogging sessions before honking horns moved them along.

Before her brother’s brain wasn’t strong enough.

Before-

“Everly?” Arms wrap around her waist and she freezes. “Come to bed with me, yeah? I’ll warm you up. We can sleep. I can even make you forget, if you want. I know- I know you don’t love me but maybe we could act like it, just for one night. Just tonight, I promise.” His whispers send chills down her spine and she finds herself leaning into his chest. His breathing hitches for a moment before his grip tightens. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I-I’m a dick, I ruined your life. I’m so sorry, Evie.”

She hates that name.

But when it comes past his lips she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she could tolerate it.

Just for tonight. When teenagers with irregular-beating hearts become actors for one night, putting love in their eyes and gentleness in their touches so they can forget.

Just for tonight.

“I love you.” She lies.

He kisses her temple and leads her upstairs, telling fibs without saying anything.

HARRY holds her close as they connect again and again, breathing heavily into her ear as she winces.

It hurts.

It hurts so, so badly.

But for the first time in a while she feels loved so she moans and pleads for him to continue, for him to go faster. He complies and lets his own silent tears fall with hers.

Because for the first time in a while he feels loved.

Since Jess.

And there’s a ceiling fan in her room and for once it isn’t so tempting.

The sheets resting around them bunch up around his naked waist and he watches where they collide, the familiar feeling in his lower stomach building. She is impossibly beautiful underneath him; all red-rimmed brown eyes and bitten lips. They broke into the room in a hurried attempt to get their clothes off as fast as possible- but she was nervous. Her hands have been shaking since they left the hospital. Harry managed to push her on the mattress and compliment her enough to shed all her clothing, making her feel as beautiful as she is.

And now they are crying as pleasure courses through them because love is a pain that is all too familiar, all too wonderful to forget.

“I’m cl-”

“I know baby, I know. Me too.” He reassures her, whimpering as he gets impossibly deeper.

She wraps her legs around his waist to bring him closer. He’s warm and loving and she knows that he could never feel anything close to what he felt for Jess for her, but he’s acting like it and it feels good. “I- I love you Everly.”

She just shakes her head, because she isn’t as good an actor as Harry. “I’m close.”

“I love you.”

“I can’t-”

Harry’s groan cuts her off as he releases into her, warmth spreading to a new level inside her body. He stills as she tightens around him.

The act is up.

The forgetting is over.

And she’s back to being unloved.

He’s back to being cold.

The act is up.

And they both collapse on the mattress in a heap of regret and wanting, reaching out for a lover that was never there.