More than a Melody (H.S) ON HOLD

24

twenty four

For weeks I stayed with Harry.

Weeks I went without answers, without work, without knowing. No matter how much I pressed or how hard I tried to get through to Miles, to Harry, their mechanism of response was all the same: beating around the bush.

I hardly spoke, hardly moved, showering became a task that was impossible, eating just the same. I would go days without seeing sunlight, the numbing of my mind excruciating- a reality consumed in malice.

The panic attacks were as frequent as the tears, if not more so. Harry didn't know what to do when they occurred but he sat and took deep breaths with me until they were over. He was with me ninety percent of the day, never wanting to leave, urging me to eat, to drink- whispering tunes of songs he wrote to calm me, holding my body which often fell limp.

On the days where I could stomach the strength to face him, I noticed that his emerald eyes no longer portrayed glistening honesty but shrouded truths. I could hear him at night, when he thought I was asleep, cursing and crying and drinking away the very guilt that devoured what was left of him.

Guilt.

It took me days to simply brush my teeth without trembling, and he saw this.

And that killed him.

Everyone and everything I thought I knew was crumbling around me, and that was a truth I was forced to reckon with.

I didn't truly know Miles. Or Vincent. Or Easton. Or Harry. No one and nothing. I hardly knew myself.

I hardly knew anything except for the undying reality of fear I acknowledged every waking day. Sleep was my only safe haven.

But oh.. oh how fucking gullible of me to believe that would be the worst of it.

Because that? That was just the beginning.