Perilous (Harry Styles)

chapter 29

“All the broken hearts in the world still beat.”

― Ingrid Michaelson

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Once my tears started streaming down my face, they refused to stop.

Crouching down, I lost my balance and fell on my knees, I sharp pain shooting through my legs and up my thighs, but the mental pain I was feeling cloaked any physical one that fought for my attention.

My hands balled to fists and pressed my belly in a weak attempt to stifle a new wave of tears that started in the pit of my stomach, but it was of no use.

Heartbreaking sobs left my lips and hot tears wetted my cheeks, a burning trail forming on both of them. My shoulders were shaking uncontrollably, but there was no way to stop it.

I was numbly aware of Phoebe grasping my body from behind and pulling me to her. Drowning in my tears, I couldn’t feel the comfort of her gesture.

Soft words tried to fight their way through the cloud that had settled over my mind, but they held no substance. They meant nothing to me, only my pain did.

Time was lost on me as I cried, eventually calming down enough to hear Phoebe sigh in relief. But just when I thought I was good enough to carry on, another tsunami overcame me and I lost myself in a puddle of tears again.

That circle repeated itself for the rest of the day, and sadly, for four days on end.

Wednesday was the first day I woke up without a new stream of tears threatening to wet my cheek. For the first time since Harry left me, I felt like I could be a productive member of society again.

My first instinct was to reach for my phone – until I remembered that Phoebe had taken it away from me on Sunday after I had called Harry nonstop, mostly only reaching his voice mail.

It was Wednesday, and there still was no sign of Harry. For all I knew, he didn’t even exist and I had woken up from a long, beautiful dream to face the ugly reality.

While still lying in my bed and facing the ceiling, I knew what was different about this morning.

This was the first night I hadn’t dreamed about Harry and our time together. I couldn’t remember a single thing after falling asleep, so I guessed I simply had a dreamless night.

And for that I was grateful.

What hurt more than having lost him was the memory of our happiness. I slowly started to wonder if it all was just a lie when he was able to just throw it away like an old piece of paper that he couldn’t use anymore.

A soft knock sounded from the door. I didn’t bother to reply, expecting no one else than my sister – my parents were at work.

Speaking of, my parents treated me like a newborn. I wasn’t allowed to do anything but ‘rest’ which only added to my sulking mood.

When the door didn’t open, I called out a “yeah?” before realizing that it could be someone who was not part of my family.

Petting my hair, I found that it was too late to change anything about the way I looked. My eyes were probably still tear-streaked and I couldn’t even remember the last time I had cared enough to make myself look presentable.

But I couldn’t find it in myself to fully care, either.

After my permission, the door opened. While it was still shielding the person, my heart pounded twice as fast, hoping to see the only person that could get me out of this state.