Chaotic (sequel to Psychotic)

Chapter 4

HARRY'S POV

I woke up before the sun rose the next morning, but not really. My dreams faded and I opened my eyes to the soft indigo of dawn, birds hawking overhead. The atmosphere felt like early morning; but I did not feel awake. I had a sleep in which I could manage none. It was one of those shitty, restless nights that leaves you tossing and turning, unable to fall into unconsciousness. And despite my exhausted body, I just couldn't rest.

On top of that, it was fucking freezing. My body was demanded to wake by constant shivering and cool snowflakes falling onto my already icy skin. The winter was ruthless and the cold reached way down into my chest. So when I opened my eyes I didn't feel awake, because I don't think I had even slept. Or was I still sleeping?

I couldn't be sure. I tried to sit up, using every muscle in my stiff body. And I guess I was awake, because somehow I managed. I rubbed my eyes, trying to gain back some clarity. I could make out the frosty grass surrounding my blankets, and for just a moment I forgot about the girl lying in them. I quickly turned my head to find her beside me. There have been times I've seen her asleep, face freed of the days worries, red lips and beautiful dark hair reminding me of snow white.

This was not one of those times.

My heart stopped in my chest and my breath hitched in my throat. Oh my God. I immediately knelt down toward her trembling body, my hands cupping either side of her face. "Rose," I said, her name coming out with much more worry than I meant it to. She didn't open her eyes. There were numerous flakes of snow laced throughout her hair, almost covering it in a thin layer of white frost. Her skin was paler than usual, nearly matching the color. Her body was shivering so harshly that her teeth audibly chattered. And her lips . . . they were purple.

"Rose," I demanded this time, tilting her head up toward me. She tried to say my name, her lips moving as she struggled for breath, but her wavering voice would not let her. "Sh, it's okay," I gently told her. As long as I knew she could hear me.

I didn't want the warmth of my hands to leave her face, but I had to get her something that would cover her more. I grabbed my own blanket and laid it on my legs, shaking it and brushing off any snow first. It was damp in some places and wasn't exactly ideal, but it was better than nothing.

Then I leaned over and slid my arms underneath Rose. I pulled her onto my lap along with the blanket she was tangled in, her back against my chest. I wrapped my sheet around her body and held her tight, trying to restore some warmth.

"Give me your hands, Rose," I pleaded. She did as she was told, slowly and shakily bringing her hands to my mouth. I repeated my actions from last night, blowing on them and holding them in mine. They were so cold. "You're okay, baby. It's okay," I tried to soothe.

I kept rubbing her legs, rubbing her shoulders, tried to get her blood flowing. I kissed her skin a few times, her hands, her cheek, her neck, her lips. Especially her lips, hoping the purple color would fade. Even though my hands weren't much warmer than hers, I repeatedly ran them over her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed, as if she was falling in and out of consciousness, but I continued. For interminable minutes this dragged on, but it seemed to be working. The sun aided me, eventually peaking through the trees to warm her up a bit further.

My breath returned when the color in Rose's cheeks did. I felt her fingers slowly clutch the fabric of my shirt and her face nuzzling into my chest. Thank God.

Her skin was still icy against mine, but she was okay.

"Rose?" I asked gently, brushing my fingertips along her cheek.

"Harry," she said, her voice a bit croaky. I let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Are you alright?" I asked her.