Legendary // H.S

33.

'I have a feeling deep down,

You're caught in the middle'

*

It's quiet in the flat, something I'm not used to after spending days around the team. There's something quite unnerving about it. It doesn't seem right to be shrouded in silence. I've grown accustomed to the noise. But here I am, stood in darkness while I readjust to my surroundings once more. The longer I spend away from this place the harder it is to feel safe inside. Being on my own doesn't help.

I have a gun now, though. A weapon that can cause so much pain, given to me to ensure my protection. I hope I never have to use it, truly, but I don't see that being the case. Even when I stepped out of Louis' car I held my bag close to my chest, feeling the outline of the firearm through the canvas material. It still fills me with anxiety being near guns, the first time I handled one was yesterday, but that has already been overshadowed by the fear of something worse.

Turning the lamp on in the far corner of the living room, I keep the bag on my shoulder. Until I'm sure that I'm safe here, it will remain by my side. I've never been the type of person to feel paranoid but given the circumstances that's probably the best thing to be.

Dusk has fallen over the city, the streetlights flooding the darkness. There's an unusual stillness over London this evening. While it's normal for the people to unwind and tourists to disperse on a Sunday as the next working week begins, something feels odd about it. Barely any cars, certainly no pedestrians. Most would find it tranquil, but I'm uneasy.

It's likely because of the situation I find myself in with Hugo. Last night definitely didn't help my nerves either. If anything, I've been on edge all day because of the nightmare that hit me. Though Harry had managed to calm me some, those feelings never really subside. Part of me is convinced another will happen tonight with how stressed I've been.

Granted, my day has been simple, easy. Spending time with Louis was far more enjoyable than I expected, and I'd managed to prize some more information out of him regarding George. Maybe I can preoccupy my busy mind with a plot to bring the two together. I can spend my days pretending to be an Emma Woodhouse of sorts, meddling in the lives of others like Jane Austen would write.

Distractions won't solve this, though. I have to remember to be alert. I know Harry is making sure people watch me, I'd overheard him speak about it with Zayn yesterday before we went shooting. While something like that would normally anger me, due to the lack of privacy, it brings me some comfort right now.

Harry has already done enough; he'll continue to. I know I can rely on him for that.

It doesn't feel like these events have only been within a few days of each other. It's as if time has slowed and is now moving at a painful pace, dragging us along with great enough a force that it will scar. Everything has been so high stakes, so charged, I feel like I'm losing my mind. It's a lot for me to wrap my head around. Like I told Harry last night, though, the only person that has successfully rid me of my worries in the past has been Dad. Although I can't explicitly tell him what's happening, I know I can find solace in the man that raised me.

I walk towards my bedroom, flicking on the light as I enter. The bag is still held close, but I reach into it to pull out my phone and begin my search for his number. I was supposed to visit him today, but with everything going on I didn't really have time. It always hurts when I can't see his face, but he understands I'm busy, even if he doesn't know what it is that takes up my time.

As I listen to the call tone, waiting for him to answer, I walk towards the window. Across the street is another block of flats made by the same developer as the one I find myself in. Identical layout, structure and interior. Through the residents' windows I can see a glimpse into their lives. A few sit with televisions on, no other light source but the blue hue of the screen. There's a man at his desk with some glasses sat low on the tip of his nose while he angrily speaks into a telephone. I see a woman cradling a child, probably trying to get them to sleep. The thing they all have in common is how blissfully unaware they must be to the danger that awaits outside their doors.