resurrect | h.s

part fifteen

Lydia White

October 4th

I had another nightmare.

I woke up screaming, causing Harry to burst into my room with his bruised face covered in concern.

When he realized that I wasn't in any immediate danger and I was only having a bad dream, he wrapped his arms around my body. I flinched at his touch while still freaking out but held me close until I calmed down.

I was still shaken up from the shooting.

Harry had been awake all night. When we made it back to my apartment, he made me go try and get some rest. He, on the other hand, stayed in the living room so he could watch the door and make sure no one followed us.

It was so hard to get to sleep. All I could think about was another break in happening. Harry wouldn't even have been able to defend himself if a break in did occur, because he didn't have a gun.

It was early morning now, and my nightmare made sure that I would definitely not be going back to sleep.

"You okay?" Harry asks while my head stays nuzzled into his warm chest.

"Mhm." I nod, clutching onto his arms. He had taken his white shirt from the club off because it was covered in blood. I had one of my dad's old t-shirts that I leant him so he didn't have to walk around shirtless.

"I made you breakfast." he says, pulling away from the hug and pulling me to my feet.

I groan in protest because I was so tired, but a homemade breakfast did sound really good. I follow Harry out of my bedroom wearing just a pair of sweatpants and a sports bra.

Immediately, the smell of eggs and bacon fills my nose. I sit down at the table as Harry brings two plates of food out. He sits across from me and runs a hand through his hair, leaning back in the chair.

"What was your nightmare about?" he asks, looking at me intently.

I shrug and poke at the food with my fork. "It's nothing."

He sighs and leans forward. "Lydia." his voice beckons lowly.

There was no point in stalling...he'd get it out of me eventually.

I huff, looking back in my memory of the horrible things I witnessed in my dream. "You know the night that Alexander and the Phantoms broke in to the house and ripped us out of bed?" I ask, looking up from the table into his eyes.

He crosses his arms and nods, waiting for me to continue.

"Well," I start again, "it was like reliving that whole night over again, with them tying us up and keeping us on the couch and Alexander putting the knife to my neck..." Harry shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he recalls that same night as well. "Except, when he was threatening to kill me," I clear my throat and flick my eyes away. This was the part that I was avoiding telling him. "Y-you told him to do it. You told him that you wouldn't care...so he did. And that's when I woke up screaming."

He didn't say anything, which made me look up at him once again. He just sat there frowning with his arms crossed, looking away towards the window.