hero ➳ h.s.

chapter fifteen

Indigo disembarked the train along with all the other extremely frightened passengers, holding a Kleenex she had found on the floor up to her eye in order so that the pain would lessen.

Only slightly.

She saw Niall first- gesturing wildly to the train and talking very animatedly towards Harry, who was crouched on the ground, head in his hands. As she got closer, she could hear Niall shouting, "What were you thinking? She probably knows now, for God's sake-"

"And what was I supposed to do, Niall? Let three hundred people die?"

"There was seventy-five -- maybe -- on the train, and you know it-"

"-seventy five is seventy five, Niall." Harry let out an emotional sigh and placed his head into his hands once more. "i can't do this."

"What's going on?" Indigo heard herself saying as she neared the pair overlooking the Snow River. "What can you not do?"

Harry and Niall stood, both shoving their hands into their pockets and shifting awkwardly. "Uh, we can't---" Niall fumbled. "Decide where we're going to eat."

"Why were you talking about the number of people on the train? And how'd you know we were going to crash, Harry?"

Harry and Niall shared a look -- Harry saying help! and Niall saying don't look at me, mate! "I-I didn't," Harry stuttered.

"You did, too," Indigo accused. "You knew! How? Did you plan this?"

"No!" Harry was all too quick to interject. "No! Definitely not."

"So? What's going on?" Indigo demanded, stomping her feet to get her point across. "Tell me!"

"Indigo-"

"Fine, if you're not going to tell me, then I suppose I'll just go back to where I belong."

Harry and Niall sprang into action. Indigo couldn't go back to Lionel; not like this, not when she was all frazzled and she might betray them. "No!" 

"And why not?" Indigo retorted angrily. "At least he understands me."

"We understand you, too, Indigo!" Niall tried. "C'mon, just, like, 10 minutes ago, we were on the bus joking around and having fun-"

"I don't have fun with people I can't trust, Niall," Indigo spat out. She shot Harry a look. "Listen, for two wonderful days, I've been able to be myself. And it's been amazing. But I can't do that anymore if you guys aren't willing to let me in, okay?"

Harry finally spoke. "No, Indigo-"

"No, just leave me alone."

"Indigo, wait!"

But she was lost to the crowd. She slipped through their fingers as a police officer came up to question Harry. And she found herself crying as she found her way home- not because she had just almost died, and not because she had just witnessed a crime scene, but because Harry Styles- the man, the boy, the hero- had become lost to Indigo Evans.

--

Indigo found the note Harry had written to her in purple crayon, all those years ago, and was tempted to tear it up. But she waited, waited until she was the bathroom floor, crying her eyes out, ready to do something terrible, that she did. She tore it in two and threw it away.

because I
have heard it
said that
men can only
be a lover or
a fighter.
but then I
always think
to myself, 
"I am both."
for what good
is love if it
isn't worth
fighting for?

A knock sounded on the door and Indigo ran to her front room to answer it. Lionel stood, holding flowers and smiling, but when he saw her puffy eyes his smile dissapated. "Indigo? Are you okay, honey?"

Indigo managed to shake her head 'no', before falling into Lionel's arms. And that was the moment when she realized it had all culminated to this. The distant love she and Harry had shared, the harboured future and distant dreams they had whispered to each other on those cold autumn nights were just shadows.

This was reality.

This was the one scar that would never fade.

So Indigo kissed Lionel.

But it wasn't like when she had kissed Harry, all those long and treacherous years ago. It was red and hot and angry, and it felt like jamming two pieces of a puzzle together when they didn't quite fit. It felt like Indigo was baking powder and Lionel was vinegar- and they were beautiful in their own respects, but together, they caused an explosion. And that's what it was. An explosion- fire and ice, poison and wine, and somehow, it was all over in the matter of 30 seconds.

But had Indigo opened her eyes in those 30 seconds; she would've seen someone watching from afar. Watching from the window, clutching an old sweater he had never bothered to return. Watching as if he was a quiet actor, waiting for his cue that never really came.

Watching.

--

july 9th, 2061

and she is gone to me.

she is someone else's. i realize that now. after all these years; all the futile years and abandoning hopes and chasing after dreams that fade like tomorrow's sunset-

                                                                                                                                she is gone.

but i will love. more. so much love that no one will have any idea what to do with me. they will look at me - confused - and ask why i have so much and why i don't demand more in return. i will give it because giving is getting and there is nothing more important than emptying your heart every single day and leaving nothing undone.

no declarations unsaid.

i will not stop and smell the flowers; i will plant them myself and watch them grow old with me. i will pull over and dance in every rainshower, and i will make snow angels when there's hardly any snow left for wings.

i will never, ever believe in the words 'too late' because it is never, ever too late to be exactly who you wish, do exactly as you should, say exactly what needs to be heard and the live the exact life you're living.

it is never too late.

                                                                                                                        oh, god, it is too late.

--

desperate harry!makes me feel kinda cuddly. :)

dedicated to @trueecolors because i'm sure you're fabtastic at writing. :)

gif on da side is when Harry saw dem smoochin.