Belle spend several years in the psych ward until they finally agreed that she was ready to be introduced into the world on her own. She was never the same after that day, a lifeless doll that would never gain the spark that allowed to her enjoy living. Eventually, she found someone to take care of her but she didn't love him, at least not in the way she had loved Harry. There was never a day that passed where Belle didn't think of the curly brown hair and the smirking lips, Harry was forever printed into her memory.
Little did Belle know, Harry's sentence was going to be cut short after repealing to the court several times. Harry wasn't planning on starting over after he finally escaped. Instead, he was waiting for the day when he could be with her again, he would never give up.
It wasn't until Harry's hair was almost completely grey with no hint of brown was he finally let out of prison and put on parole. It took him several weeks but he was finally able to find where Belle was.
Harry knew something was wrong when her address led to a large black gate with rows upon rows of gravestones behind the steel. He needed to be certain before he gave up the love of his life. Once he found the small letters spelling out "Belle O'Shea Johnson" he instantly had a heart attack. The doctor's say the shock of her death in combination with the realization that she moved on was too much for Harry in his old age. Harry and Belle both died never knowing that the other was waiting for them, whether it was in a prison cell or a loveless marriage.
The end.
A/n Thanks for reading
YOU ARE READING
Stockholm Syndrome // h.s
FanfictionStock·holm syn·drome noun feelings of trust or affection felt in certain cases of kidnapping or hostage-taking by a victim toward a captor.
