Moments || H.S

105 ; let me come home

(Trigger Warning maybe but a sweet ending)

I wake up, sitting straight up and bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, trying to steady my breathing. A thin layer of sweat and not just from the heat, my hair fallen out of the bun I had tied it up into before going to sleep. I'm in a tank top and shorts, this summer is going to be brutal. 

I'm not in LA, I'm in England. It's mid June and really fucking hot. I'm safe, August and Delilah are safe. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. 

I repeat that over and over again in my head until I feel another arm around my shoulders and a small whisper and it scares me a little and I jump, reminding myself it's only Harry. 

"Ave?" Harry whispers, August and Delilah are away and I'd had a nightmare of something happening to them like it did to Louis. Harry insisted to stay with me and I wasn't going to argue. I think it would be good for both of us to spend a little more time together. Harry's company is one of my favorite and most comforting things. 

"Avery, are you OK?" He asks and I lift my head up, staring directly ahead at the TV and shaking my head, letting out a shaky breath that I didn't realize I was holding "What happened?" 

"Bad dream" I mumble, moving my hands down my legs. My heart is still racing and I feel Harry's arm tighten and he can probably feel me shaking slightly 

"It's OK, it's not real, you know that. You're safe, I'm safe, do you want to talk about it?" He tells me the same things I used to do tell him and I breath out heavily, trying to rack my brain for right words

"Plane crash" I mutter and he nods his head, not needing anymore information. He sits up onto his knees and I put my legs down, allowing myself to be pulled into him. It was awful, I saw the plane burst into flames and fall into the ocean, my husband and daughter on board. 

Don't think about it, it's not real.

"These dreams" He starts speaking after a few minutes of staying like that "are they coming back?" 

"No" I answer truthfully "That's the first one I've had in a long time" I move away from him, laying back down with my head on the pillow and he does the same "what about you?"

He breaks eye contact and plays with fabric of the blanket we are laying on top. Laying on his side shirtless and I stare at his rose tattoo as he holds his head on his hand, elbow digging into the mattress. 

"Harry?" My tone is more stern now but he still doesn't look up "H, are your nightmares coming back?"

I get flashbacks to being woken up all hours of the night, rushing over to find him trembling. He'd never tell me what happened but I saw the tear streaks down his face and watch his nights become terrifying. He wouldn't sleep in fear of what'd he see, it broke me but they stopped, he got a few on tour but as far as I know, he hasn't gotten once we'd been home. 

The worst one was about half way through the 6 months he was like that, I was staying that night and he wouldn't talk to me. Usually, I'd get a few words or  conversation with him, but he was petrified and wouldn't stop shaking despite it being summer. I cried with him that night, I lost it when I normally held my composure, I cracked and felt as small and scared as he did. 

I don't want that back. 

"Kinda" Is all he answers, looking up briefly and seeing the concern written all over my face "Their..not as bad and..not as frequent"