Murder House

Do you know who you are?

Uncertainties are painful. When you don't understand what you don't know and what you need to be cautious about, fear falls into your mind.

Harry was feeling like he's lost. It was a cold, dark pit. He couldn't fall, but he couldn't get out either. He was looking for a place to hold, but couldn't find it. He tried to breathe but couldn't.

He didn't know what it was. He couldn't make sense of what had happened to him. He was hearing voices deep inside. He couldn't hear clearly what those voices were saying. Sometimes he stopped breathing, trying to focus on what the voices were saying.

Edward.

This voice echoed in his mind over and over again.

Edward, Edward, Edward... Love of my life.

It was such an interesting feeling when someone told you that you were the love of their life. The person they loved the most in his life. The person they will love forever even if they break up... The person they will never forget.

I love you.

Harry couldn't find out who the owner of the voice was. It was a familiar voice. Very familiar.

I will always love you.

He felt a coldness in his hands.Someone was holding his hand.

The cold was rising. It was cooling Harry's fiery body. It made him take deep breaths. He paused on Harry's cheeks, then moved slowly again. Was he caressing?

He was touching him, afraid to hurt Harry. Fingers were moving away from Harry, lightly touching his cheek again. It didn't freeze Harry from the cold, it just put out the fire inside him.

When Harry opened his eyes, his head ached unbelievably and his eyes were watering.

He looked around in horror to see where he was. The ceiling here was as high as the other rooms. Pictures were drawn on the ceiling, which looked quite impressive. Probably Edward drew these, too. Turning his head slowly to the right, he met Louis's blues that were watching him with concern.

"I-" Harry started to speak, but couldn't finish the sentence. What would he say? Who are you? Or would he ask about Edward? Is this our bed?

Louis hadn't said anything. He wasn't trying to encourage Harry to talk. He caressed Harry's cheek gently. He didn't believe he could do this again. He had hard time believing that his lover came back to him.

Harry felt Louis' thumb on his lower lip. Louis' finger and longing gaze lingered on his lips for a moment, then drifted away from him.

Harry frowned when he didn't like indifference. Louis, on the other hand, was smiling at that familiar face.

"Words can't describe how much I miss you. I've been dreaming of your beautiful eyes for years. For years... I've been trying to find peace by imagining that you're happy out there."

Harry didn't know what to say, what to ask. Thousands of questions flooded his mind, but he couldn't decide which to ask first.

"How did you understand?" he asked in a low voice.

"Time can change many things. There are only two things that it cannot change. No one can touch or harm these two things that I keep deep in my heart. First, my love for you. The other is the way you look at me. No one can look at me like that. No one can be that meaningful, passionate. cannot look full of love."

Harry took a deep breath. The longing was evident in the eyes of the man in front of him. Longing and passion. He was looking at Harry as if it was a very delicate piece of art. He touched him with his fingertips, afraid of hurting him. At the same time, it was as if he wanted to kiss him passionately. He looked as if he wanted to make up for all the time that had passed, right now, in this bed.