His Light, Her Darkness

Chapter 68: Happiness

The world is nothing but a foggy, loud and chaotic mess.

And I'm in the thick of it.

My head pounds and the sound of chattering voices penetrates my skull like a blade digging into my temples. My eyes are heavy, but somehow I manage to push past the pain and open them.

Everything is bright, and a headache instantly forms in the back of my head. I blink away the blurriness and find myself lying in a pile of hay. Men stand over my body, however their attention isn't on me, but the commotion going on beside me.

I turn my head to the left, catching a glimpse of a figure slouched, their back against the wood panelled wall. There's a man beside them, but I can't seem to make anything else out as a hand gently moves my head so that I'm once again staring at the ceiling.

And then their face comes into view.

Matteo.

"Just look at me." He whispers, his hands cupping my chin.

I furrow my brows, trying to regain myself and my memories. What am I doing here?

I try to open my mouth and speak, but nothing seems to come out besides a shredding pain. I groan and my body tenses, I bring my hand to my neck, but Matteo quickly moves to stop me.

"Everything is going to be fine." He says, and I believe him. His words send warmth throughout my body, the feeling of safety and belonging.

I try to turn my head back to where all the commotion is coming from, as everything becomes louder, including the ringing within my ears - But Matteo is quick to stop me once more.

"Just look at me - Don't look at them."

I try to nod, but it hurts too much.

So instead I stare into the midnight pools of Matteo's eyes. They sparkle like stars in the night sky, beautiful and rare - I could stare at them for days and not get sick of looking into them. I could get lost in them.

He gives me a kind smile.

He looks pained, and I just want to hug him.

"He's dead." I hear a voice declare.

Dead? Who-

I gasp in a breath of air and instantly shoot up despite the immense amount of pain that it causes me. The blood rushes to my head and I become dizzy for a split second before my eyes fall upon the slouched figure.

Scott.

His body is lifeless. His skin is a ghostly white compared to its usual tan, slowly becoming paler and paler. His eyes are closed, and still tears stain his once rosy cheeks. His face is scrunched in a pained expression of discomfort and it looks as though he could still be sleeping, in the midst of a very disturbing nightmare.

My eyes fall down to his chest, where right in the centre is a round and clean bullet hole. His clothes are stained a dark crimson that bleeds out, consuming everything in its wake.

Scott's dead.

He tried to kill me.

As much as I hate it, the first thing that I feel is utterly consuming relief. I'm not dead. I'm still breathing and thinking... I'm still alive.

And then I feel betrayal, hurt and anger. I had felt something towards Scott - It may have not been love, but I had grown to care for him in some way.

And lastly, there was only guilt. Not for my actions, but for the relation I have to such an unforgiving and horrible person - Harry.