hero ➳ h.s.

chapter seventeen

Those three words.

"You're a hero."

It

took

his

breath

away.

The way she say it with such childlike innocence; a sort of dreamlike wonder that made Harry question if this was reality. Was it? Was this reality?

Because, for all his life, he had been convinced that he wasn't a hero. He had told himself countless times - midnights where he couldn't sleep, on the bridge overlooking Snow River, or when he lapsed into another world while he was supposed to be doing work - he was no hero.

But she said he was.

Indigo could see it in his eyes; the quiet, glassy, breakable silence that spoke volumes of how much Harry had hurt of the past few years. Because he had had no one to hold. Indigo had had Lionel to soothe her bruises and heal her cuts, but Harry? The only one he had had was himself. And now, with the tears forming in his eyes -- in the quiet stillness of the breaking dawn- that Indigo finally understood. Harry had waited all his life for someone to admire him, for someone to hold him when he cried and tell him he was a hero.

And she was that person.

"Oh, Harry," she murmured in only the tone lovers can use when they are at the end of their rope. And as she approached him and wrapped him in her arms, he could finally breathe. It was like everything- all the stars, all the lights, all the scars, all the memories - exploded in this moment when he could feel her, and she could feel him and it was all goddamn perfect and he couldn't even stop the tears from flowing.

"It's okay, sweetie, you're okay," Indigo murmured and soothed as Harry cried into her shoulder and she did the same. It was all over. It would be okay. They were together again, and that was all that mattered.

"It's going to last this time, Harry," she found herself saying.

And he knew she wasn't talking about a Sharpie this time.

Once the tears had subsided and he could finally see her beautiful face through the foggy mess his brain was in, he said softly, "I'm not leaving this time, Indie,"

"I know, I-"

But there was no time for her to respond. Lionel barged in, followed by at least a dozen bodyguards. "Arrest him!" He screamed. "He's a Revolutionary!"

Indigo's eyes widened in fear, and she clung onto Harry. Not this time. She wouldn't let this happen again. Freedom started with her; and this was the last time she was letting Harry go. "No!" She screamed as Lionel tried to pry her away from Harry. "No! I love him, Lionel!"

Harry was frozen in fear. He had his arms around, Indigo, holding her close -- he couldn't let her go. He wouldn't let her go. Because this was the moment. This was the replay. If he let her go this time, he might never get her back.

Indigo looked up into his eyes and he could almost taste the love he and her shared. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead before slowly releasing her --

slowly,

and then all at once.

"You keep her safe."

Harry, as always, put Indigo before himself. He surrendered to the prying bodyguards, looking away as Indigo screamed and reached for him - flashes of light intruding upon him as the bodyguards beat him and mocked him.

Indigo pummeled Lionel's arms in a futile effort to release herself. "Let go!" she screeched, but Lionel only stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. "I love him! I love Harry!"

"Poor little Indigo," Lionel soothed. "So gullible."

--

"You keep her safe."

"Over here, you lug. In #237."

"She was the poem I was never able to write, and the song I was never good enough to sing."

"Chain him up to the wall."

"I can never sleep well," she said softly, as if admitting a long lost secret. "Not since you left."

"Just stamp the paper, he's gonna die on the 13th anyway."

"I miss you."

"Leave him alone."

"I do, too."

--

He awoke to the silence of pain.

It was dark and it smelled bad in the tiny cell Harry was forced into like some caged animal. There was a small candle burning out somewhere in the hallway and Harry could just make out the words inscribed onto the wall.

Fall down seven times, stand up eight.

A tear ran down his cheek.

Harry swore and banged his head against the wall, his hands bound and his whole body on fire with pain. Somehow, in the severity of the moment, he was almost relieved Indigo would be alright- that he was the one in the prison cell, not her. He was glad that he would bear the brunt of the pain and not her. But still, even in the darkness, he found tears running down his cheeks.

Because he would never forget about Indigo Marie Evans.

Even if he tried.

This feeling had only come once before in his life. On Indigo's eighteenth birthday; on the day when Harry's world crashed to the ground and made it's home among the dirt and grime.

The day he had left.

It seemed like such a lifetime ago, yet, at the same time, only yesterday, because that's how it was with Indigo. She was so pure, so flawless- a day seemed like a thousand years, but as soon as you were away from her, it seemed impossible. Inaccessible. As if God himself had put a barrier between the two.

Because Indigo wasn't just Indigo, although she would probably prefer to be called that over anything Harry would call her. Indigo was warm pumpkin pie and big hugs and fluffy clouds against a blue sky. She was sleepy Sunday mornings and beautiful orange sunsets because Indigo was beautiful; she was flawless, and to Harry?

she was home.

--

Hey guys.

So a few things.

I'm not going to be able to write as much in the fall due to personal issues that need resolving, as well as the fact I am entering high school and am beyond overwhelmed with the amount of work I will have to do as a result. Because of this, I'm only going to be able to finish Hero and possibly -- POSSIBLY -- write a book of one shots. :(

I'm really sorry everyone; but Wattpad has been a genuinely amazing experience for me and I am sad to leave.