Harry made his way up the snow covered hill, the snow falling into his curly hair. He didn't care though. Today he had numbed himself. He couldn't feel the pain anymore. He wouldn't. He took a swig from the bottle of liquor he was carrying, a bouqet of flowers in the other hand. They were daffodils, her favorite. He walked past the all too familiar tree, it was void of it's leaves, and the branches were bent down as if it couldn't stand any longer. That's how Harry felt at this moment, as if he could just fall over and never get up again. He kept walking, though. Up the stairs he went, stopping in front of a headstone. He kneeled down in front of it, taking another swig of liquor. He threw the bottle at the headstone, and began to sob. He put his head into his hands, and screamed at the top of his lungs. He couldn't handle it anymore.

"Olivia, why? Why would you do this to me." He choked out between sobs. He slummped his body against the headstone, as he ran his fingers over the engravings. "I miss you, so fucking much Olivia. You would be eighteen today. I would take you out for your first drink, and we would have had a laugh." Harry was trying to catch his breath. He stood up, and looked at the daffodils in his hand. He felt the anger, and the pain rising up in him. He began to scream again, throwing the daffodils to the ground and stomping on them. When he finally had enough, he dropped to the ground, his face hitting the cold hard dirt.

"Why did you have to take her away from me? Why her?" Harry cried, clutching his chest. The cold was overwhelming, and making it hard to breathe, but he didn't care. "Lyvi, I love you so much. I wish you knew how much I loved you, but I ran out of time. I wish I had gotten to you, to tell you. I wish I had been at your house that night, like we planned." Sobs racked Harry's body, as he laid on the ground next to the headstone.

"Hey, kid. You alright? I heard you screamin'." A voice came from behind Harry. He whipped around to see an older gentlman, coming his way.

"Y-yeah, I'm alright. Just upset." Harry said, wiping the tears from his eyes. He stood up, and brushed himself off, and turned back to Olivia's grave.

"It's hard, isn't it. Losing someone you love." The man said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. He only nodded. "I lost my wife three years ago, and let me tell you. The first year was the hardest. Just stay strong little buddy, it will get better." The man said, patting his back and then dissappearing down the road he had come. The tears still fell from Harry's eyes, he couldn't stop them. Everywhere he looked reminded him of her, and it hurt so bad. Harry sat down, and leaned against the headstone. Putting his head back, he closed his eyes.

"Harry, I've been looking everywhere for you. Are you alright, mate?" Someone called, waking Harry up from his dreams of Olivia. His eyes focused on someone coming towards him. It was his best mate, Louis Tomlinson. He stood up, and he could feel his chest tighten.

"No, I'm not alright. I'm far from alright." Harry said, beginning to cry agin. Louis rushed over to him, and wrapped him in a hug. He held on so tightly to Louis, as if he might disappear in that moment.

"Come on, mate. Let's get you home." Louis said, leading Harry to the car. They climbed in, and Louis started it up.

"Louis?" Harry asked, his voice still shaky.

"Yeah?" He asked, turning on the heat.

"I loved her." Harry choked, his voice cracking.

"I know, mate. I know." Is all Louis said. He put the car in drive, and sped away. Harry watched as the grave sight dissapeared from sight, his heart left with a hole that no one could fill.

Notes

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