55 | Terror

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(I updated on Sunday, so if you haven't read chapter 54 yet, read that first!!)

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"Nothings gonna hurt you baby"

May 8
5:15am

I had no idea how I was feeling.

James was out of jail.

And he had come back, trying to destroy me after I had finally started feeling happy for the first time ever.

And I felt like I was hanging on by a thread right now, I had Harry, I had Zayn and Louis and I knew they were keeping me safe, I trusted them, but I was still so fucking terrified.

I thought that maybe I would have moved on from him, that he wouldn't be able to affect me anymore but I was so wrong.

The second I opened my apartment door it was like every emotion that I had pushed to the back of my mind and locked away, had all escaped and I was drowning in them.

Harry had grabbed a few bags that I had lying around my apartment, and filled them completely with my clothes to the point that my wardrobe was basically empty now. He wasn't letting me stay home myself until he was one hundred percent sure James wouldn't be able to get anywhere near me.

He also grabbed a few of my paintings, the ones that didn't get damaged. And they were all sitting about his bedroom, he told me he wanted to hang them up.

The whole journey back from my apartment Harry stayed as close to me as possible. I was so appreciative that he wasn't getting annoyed at how clingy I was. I didn't let go of him from the minute he came into my apartment until the minute we got into the car, and even then he still held my hand.

I wasn't really speaking much, my brain felt like it was on overload, thinking about everything that happened, James, that man, Harry's nightmares, my apartment, all my paintings being destroyed.

He was being so gentle and caring with me, murmuring reassuring words to me, even when Zayn and Louis were in the car. He was normally much less affectionate when we weren't alone, but tonight he was being so sweet.

I kept switching between silently crying, overwhelmed and terrified of everything all at once. Or just staring blankly at the wall, neither of them a good coping mechanism.

I hated that when anything like this would happen, I would just shut down completely. It was the same as that night when the car was shot at, I didn't speak, I couldn't.

Harry was so comforting and soft, coaxing me up the stairs and into bed, changing me into one of his shirts and leaving only his sweatpants on, curling up to me in bed and holding me tightly like he understood everything that was going on in my mind, he was just doing everything I needed.

I fell asleep tangled up with him, feeling fine. I was fine.

The weight of his legs intertwined with mine, his hand on my stomach, hearing the repetitiveness of his breathing provided a sense of security.

I found so much comfort in being close to him, he made everything else disappear just by being here.

But even within the comfort and warmth I was feeling, my skin was still crawling, I felt nauseous.

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