Dust Bones [Harry Styles]

060

H A R R Y 

Harry woke up, and it was like no pain that he started to feel all over his body was to amount to his anger and...finally, his anxiousness. This was a rare feeling. He's never made any contact with it. His mind was always free from these certain feelings, that would always hold others he knew back. Harry simply felt nothing like it. But that's what Catalina does to him. Makes him feel things he never has before. 

Catalina. Anxiety churned tightly in his stomach. He remembers instantly the flames, the noises, and her scream right before the momentum of the car got the best of him, and knocked him into a world of unconsciousness. Stunned, eyes wide, Harry sits up to find himself laying on a bed. Everything was black and white. Furniture precisely was black, and the sheets and comfortable objects were white. 

Frames and shapes were perfectly hung on the walls. Harry knew immediately whoever owned the place, had a very excessive need for order. He inhales deeply, ignoring the pain that burns in his body as his stands. He looks down his body to find a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt on it. He smells of a lavender, bleaching agent.

He clenches his jaw, an urgent, fearful feeling settles in his chest as he rapidly opens the door of the room to see even more organized spots of black and white. He hopes its a dream he can't get out of. But he knows it all felt too real, and he doesn't like to fool himself with happier thoughts. 

Catalina was gone, and the idea made him insane, absolutely mad. His crazy eyes observed the area, and he knocked door after door, angrily trying to find someone to blame for all of this, to take his anger out. But no one was to blame. It was just him. 

Harry wanted her all to himself. He didn't want to kill anymore, he didn't want to surround her in the threats of his career. But...he also didn't want to give her up. His selfishness brought them here. To a point where she could already be dead, and hopeless. There goes the only girl he has ever loved. 

Desperation was obvious when he opens a door, and he stands there, discussing something with a grey-haired man he knows nothing about. 

"How did I get here!?" Harry growls angrily, chest rising up and down. He was ready to break nearest objects, or harass the poor man that sat quite stunned of his appearance. 

But Louis wasn't surprised. He was used to seeing Harry like this. Louis is a man of his word, and he said as long as he got those codes, he will ensure their safety. The stupid lovebirds, he calls them. Louis was too professional to care about emotions, but he did care about business and keeping everything in order, and that includes his promises. 

"Where's Catalina!?" Harry yells lividly. When he receives no answer, he reaches over to a milky white glass. 

Louis nearly flinches at the misplacement, and calls out, "We don't know, Harry. And leave the vase alone. It did nothing to you." 

In no mood to be told what to do, Harry continues to raise his voice. He surprises himself when his voice cracks and he feels his eyes stinging. Fuck, he thinks to himself. He's losing it. He knows it. He's losing his mind. 

"Where is she?" He asks lowly, swallowing down a lump of absolute Hell in his throat that has formed from his desperation to see the girl. Or his woman. His. He liked to call her that. Gave him a sense that he didn't physically own her, but that she may always be forever his. That she could be the only thing that lasts in his life.

And this is what he hates. He fools himself. He always thinks happy with her. Happy, the word makes him absolutely angry. There is only a matter of time before it runs out and he's faced with this.