Freed

One

Harry's POV

Another meaningless day, filled with meaningless talk, spent with meaningless people. I trudge down the hallway, occasionally glancing out of the floor-length windows. Everyday is becoming so redundant that sometimes I simply want to yank my hair out due to frustration.

"Your Highness, the King sent these." A messenger says rushing towards me, and holding out two files. I wave my hand, walking past him. "S-Shall I place them on your desk, Your Highness?"

"Leave them be," I murmur. I head over toward my place of solace, my eyes falling on the open front door. There's a moving truck situated outside, and Ashley is standing in the doorway, directing the men. I watch as they carry in a black sofa, and make their way towards the lounge. Ashley turns around, her eyes landing on me. She smiles and takes a few steps in my direction.

"I bought a new couch," Ashley says excitedly. "The other one was getting quite old, and boring." I nod, and continue on my way. "Wanna share a drink on it?"

"Not interested," I mumble. The minute my hand lands on the door-handle a surge of sorrow, guilt and comfort hits me. This is what I feel every time I come here, which has been a lot. I basically spend three-quarters of my day in here. Shutting the door behind me, I sink down onto the floor, and lean my head against the wood.

Everything is just as she left it. After all, she didn't take much other than a few clothes, some toiletries and a couple hundred dollars. Every month I check my credit card bill, ready to find some unknown activity. However, I never come across any. I don't even know what I'll do, or how I'll react if I see some activity on her part.

Truth be told, I'm scared. I'm scared of what I'll do if I find out where she is because I sure as hell know she isn't in L.A. A few hours after she left for the airport - after I sent her off - I got a call from the pilot saying that I'm running late, and very soon he wouldn't be able to take off due to air traffic. And that's how I came to the conclusion that she didn't use the private plane, and ticket I gave her. Instead, she decided to choose her own path for somewhere else.

I wished I knew where she was though, but then I also know that it's good I don't. If I'm being honest to myself, I can't say that I'm over what she did, or that I've forgiven her. She took my baby away from me after all, and that's definitely not something I can overlook that easily.

However, I do feel guilty for the way I manhandled her. That was highly wrong of me, but at the time I had blanked out; the anger completely enveloping me in. I lost complete sense of who was standing in front of me and simply lashed out. Like an animal. Like a monster. I am what she once recognized me as, and I will never be able to change my nature.

Ever since she left, I've started lashing out at people around me more often than before. In the past, I used to yell, or lose my anger, but I never hit others. Nowadays, all I do is involve myself in brawls. I've started to loathe myself because of the man I've turned into. There have been numerous occasions when I've thought about ending my life and putting a stop to this misery. However, I'm a coward and cannot bring myself to do so. Friends have faded away into the background. Even Louis left after I shoved him into the coffee table of the lounge.

I find pleasure in nothing, and displeasure in all. Despondent, that's what Gregg called me when he found out that I had sent her away. No hope, I think that word quite suits me. I push myself off the ground, and stand up, glancing around the room. With heavy steps, I make my way towards the bed, and lower myself onto it. Reaching out towards the bedside table, I grab hold of the Kindle, and switch it on. I've been reading what she read for the past two years and six months.

Lord knows how I've been able to hold up for so long because right now, sitting here, I feel myself shattering completely. There were cracks before, but now I'm afraid I'm going to break completely. My eyes land on the book that she read five times, and I remember every time her face would light up with a grin at the specific parts that she absolutely loved. I miss that woman so goddamn much, but my hate for her hasn't left. I'm a wreck, that's what I am.

My father believes that now I'm more than incapable of taking over the kingdom, and I agree with him a hundred percent. I can't clean up my own mess, how the heck will I be able to clean up our country's and our people's? Then again, I'm far too cowardly to abdicate the throne. I fear that I've become so immune to this standard of living, and this life that I won't be able to adjust as a commoner.

I only have two weaknesses, cowardice and her, and currently they're both anchoring me. The house isn't the same anymore. I don't hear her scurrying around, clattering dishes, cooking up food that had me licking my fingers. The whole servant department has been revamped. Ashley brought in domestic staff from her old palace, courtesy of her father of course. In my anger the day after she left, I had the fountain destroyed. Unfortunately, I now miss it every time I walk around the compound. It brought a flair of elegance, and...love into my house. But that's just the thing, isn't it? All feelings of home, and love left this place when she left.

A/N: Well, there ya'll go - a look into Harry's mind. I strongly felt that the sequel needed to be begun with his POV, so that my readers can understand his life after Mus, and what he thinks as well. I'll most probably alternate between their POV's, so that ya'll can get the best of both worlds. Happy reading, and take care of yourselves xx.