Legendary // H.S

54.

'There's no light

Inside I'm paralysed

But fuck it cause I'm in too deep'

*

'Jesus H Christ!' Cathy calls out as she rushes to the back door to lock it, hands visibly shaking while her steps are cautious. There's a moment that I'm alone, my body kneeling on the carpeted floor as I cradle my bleeding shoulder, just listening to her rummage in the back rooms to confirm hat no one else is here to hurt us.

Once she's sure, she reappears again, but keeps her distance. Her cheeks are stained with tears, the harsh light of the display that Hugo switched on reflecting in the moisture. Her eyes dart around my whole body, refusing to look directly into my own. Every movement of her pupils only remains in one place for a few seconds before hesitantly moving to the next. At one point, they land on my shoulder, watching some of the blood pour out of it, but again, she looks away.

Instead of speaking, I slowly rise to my feet, making sure to keep pressure on my wound. The ache increases with every passing moment, a stinging intensifying the longer my hand remains over it. The blood has seeped through my shirt and begun to stick my clothing to me, something I know will need to be ripped off to close the hole. It's not serious, though, that much is clear.

While I had only been introduced to firearms recently, I had learnt to tell when a bullet wound was fatal or not, and thankfully for me, this doesn't seem to have hit any major artery. It may cause issues with mobility in my joint for a while, but at least I'm alive. In truth, I had convinced myself today would be the day I died. As the bullet shot out the gun all I could think about was the last happy memory I had before my life could be stolen.

This morning, in the shower. I'd struggled with sleep last night, constantly tossing and turning while Harry peacefully dozed in a slumber next to me. At first, my body was curled up to his, head on his chest and fingers outlining the tattoos that litter his torso. He's been opening up to me more and more about why he got them, and every day I look forward to the tale that will be recounted. Not every design is meaningful, but they all represent a particular moment in his life. I want to know every aspect of him, so I can ensure that I fit neatly into his world. There's no going back for me now. This is it. I can't imagine leaving his side.

After some time, I pulled away from him, his body remaining on his back before her rolled to his side and nuzzled his head against the pillow. I watched him for a moment, smiling to myself at the sight. So innocent. So sweet. In many ways it's a juxtaposition to the person he displays to the world, but I know his heart is pure.

I walked to the shower and just stood under the warm water as it cascaded over my body. The temperature was probably too hot, scalding my skin and inflaming it. But I barely felt it. I only focused on the sounds of the water as it hit the wall or the floor. Heavy but soft at the same time. The weight of a cloud at the speed of a bullet. If only getting shot felt like that.

It was only when Harry's arms came around me, his chest pressing my back and lips planting a soft kiss to my shoulder, did I realise I was no longer alone with my thoughts. I had him. I always have him. We stood like that for a while, neither one of us saying anything or bothering to change position. He scattered small pecks across my bare skin, hands resting on my hips during the process, until his hand came down between my legs, and the euphoric feeling of his touch began.

Everything with Harry is easy, despite how much we fought it at first. It's fallen into place so naturally that sometimes I forget life before him. He's invaded the shores and claimed residence, and there's nothing I can do about it. I surrendered the moment I met him. An armada too powerful for me to overthrow; purely accepting my fate.