[COMPLETED] where she sat and ate her strawberries, while he smoked his cigarettes.
-harry styles au
-set in summer of 1998
-mentions rape, sexual assault, abuse, fighting, and suicide
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~Harry~
For the past eight days, he had prayed more than he ever had in his life. He hadn't known what was out there, because he wasn't sure if he believed in any God at all. The whole idea of a higher power had been fucking with his mind ever since he came back from Woodgate... when Marley came crashing into his life.
Because from the minute he let her in - the minute that she broke every single wall he ever had into oblivion - he was sure that there had to be one. Because there couldn't be anyone in the world so unbelievably perfect unless they were handcrafted by a being more powerful than any. Her soul was too pure to be made by the same craftsmanship that he came from.
But now, he wasn't too sure. Because how could someone create something so beautiful, so kind, so perfect... turn around and create the horrible terrors that lurked in the darkest of shadows.
A scoffed left his lips as he sat on the edge of the cliff like he had for the past eight days. It was a constant rotation. Hospital, cliff, hospital, cliff. He had only been home twice during the eight day period to shower. He had everything he could have needed with him to make sure he was never outside the hospital range for longer than an hour.
He rotated between the same pair of jeans and joggers, the same black shirts, socks and briefs. Carried a toothbrush and toothpaste in a small ziplock baggie that he had kept in Marley's room when she was transferred from the ICU at 3:27 on day two.
He had claimed the room as his own, pulling a chair beside her bed as he simply stared down at her. He couldn't find it within himself to reach out and touch her, because he was afraid he would hurt her. She looked so small, so fragile... he was afraid that just the light touch of a feather would break her.
His knees would be placed one the side of her bed, his body being as close as physically possible without actually reaching out and feeling the softness of her skin. A part of him was afraid that she wouldn't feel the same, that his memory of her warmth was obscured due to the cold blood that covered his hands that fateful night.
But he never left her side.
He would stay from the minute the clock struck eight in the morning until the last second when the minute hand was on the twelve and the hour hand dreadfully hovered over the nine. He was never alone in her room, someone was always there with him. Usually it was Luke, sitting on the couch as he flipped through the channels. Cole was the second to usually stroll in when he would arrive with Louis. From there the influx of people never stopped; Robin, Lottie, the twins, Vicky, Jackson, Mitch, nurses, and doctors. Even people that Harry hadn't seen since he had been back have come and gone through the revolving door that seemed to be attached to room 1008.
They all said the same thing, that they were there for the Beck siblings, that if ever needed anything all they had to do was call. Yet Harry couldn't help but question where this invitation was months ago?
