Exile [hs]

*SLOW UPDATES*
"Harry she's dead. She isn't here." She tries to calm him down, taking in the state of his trembling body, sweaty palms and uneven breaths, his breath hitching in his throat, lungs contracting, leaving no way air could enter his reparatory cords.

"No she's here, we did this together, she's here trust me." He motions towards the dark corner in the room, his bloodshot eyes meeting hers, his labored breaths making his hard to speak, choking on his own blood, coughing it all out,
Until it all goes black.

// When Harry faces the consequences of his subconscious actions in the glorious years of 1985.

*CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICT CONTENT*