27 Tattoos

It’s been 3 years, 9 months, 2 weeks and 3 days since the accident. Since your whole world was taken from you. You moved away from Holmes Chapel, you couldn’t stay there; the memories were just too much. Everywhere you looked, everyone you looked at, reminded you of him. You hadn’t used his name since the day of the funeral. His mother had tried to get in contact with you, numerous times, but you couldn’t face her. You couldn’t let the memories flood back.

You woke up in a stranger’s bed. That seemed to be a regular occurrence of late. You got drunk, slept with a guy then left before he could even notice you were there in the first place. Slipping your dress and heels, you make your way downstairs. Slowly opening the door, you creep out of the apartment, the sky was dark. You checked your phone: 04:12 a.m. Brilliant.

Tears formed in your eyes as you walked around London. You found a park, god knows where, and sat down on it. Bringing your knees up to your chest and dropping your head down as the tears came out, hard and fast. All you wanted was to see his face. His curls, his dimples, his eyes, his tattoos, his piecing’s, his smile. You wanted to see him but you couldn’t.

“Are you okay, love?” You heard someone say. You were so caught up in crying you didn’t even realise someone had sat next to you.

“I-I’m fine.” You stutter, keeping your head down.

“Forgive me for being intrusive, but you don’t seem fine.” The stranger chuckles. He sounded so familiar; you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Looking up you meet 2 green eyes staring into yours. The boy’s features were completely different to his, but his eyes were exactly the same. He had straight, brown hair that fell messily onto his head, he clearly used gel. His nose was broad, but not as broad as his. His lips had a curve to them, pink and plump.

“Are you okay?” He asks again, looking into your eyes.

“Uh, yeah. You j-just… You just remind me of someone.” Your eyes scan his features again.

“Is that good or bad?” He smirks.

“I’m still trying to figure that out.” You smile. In a matter of minutes, this stranger had captivated you, drawn you in.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” He asks, you felt the need to tell him every single thing about yourself.

“I miss my boyfriend.” You whisper, it was barely audible but you were sure he heard.

“Oh… Did you, uhm… Break up?” He questions, his voice filled with curiosity.

“No… He was… he was s-shot.” You whimper, a fresh set of tears stared to stream down your face. Without thinking, the stranger pulled you in for a hug, stroking your hair. You would object but you felt oddly safe with the man.

“It’s been nearly 4 years and I still can’t get over it… I love him.” You should have said loved, but that wasn’t correct. Yes, Harry was gone, but you would always love him. You could get married and have kids, but Harry would always have your heart.

“Everything happens for a reason. People change, things change. Sometimes, we don’t want them too and it can feel like the end of the world but maybe it was meant to be. I’m not saying him dying was a good thing, you clearly love him. I’m just saying that maybe this was what was planned for you. To fall in love and have your heart broken, but that’s not the end. He would have wanted you to move on, lead a happy life, but you can’t do that if you’re still caught up on him. There is no doubt in my mind that he loved you, but sometimes, love dies. Not the actual love, that will remain, but the people. Life forces them apart but you still have the love you once shared.” He finishes his speech and all you can do is stare at him in awe.

“You remind me of him.” You whisper, looking down at the ground.

“What was his name?” The stranger asks.

“Harry.” You croak. “He made me promise that I’d find someone new but everytime I begin to get close to someone, I feel guilty.” You whimper.

“Give your heart a break.” He murmurs, you still clinging to his chest. “So, what’s your name?” He smiles shyly, looking down at his feet.

“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N).” You force out a smile, looking up at him.

“I’m Luke Smith.” He replies, extending his arm. You giggle and shake it. “So I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere, get your mind off things?” He asks, unsure of your answer. It made you feel better talking about him, talking about Harry. Harry. He wanted you to move on, to find someone new. But should you?

—FLASHBACK—

“Promise me.” He says, his voice weak, “Harry…” You trail off, “Promise me.” He pleads. You look down at his face; his features were contorted due to the pain. You couldn’t stand to see him like this, he couldn’t leave you. He couldn’t. You loved him, more than anything. “I promise.”

—END OF FLASHBACK—

“That would be nice.” You smile, looking up at him. He smiles wide.

“I know a great bakery just a couple of streets down.” He says excitedly, standing up and holding out his hand for you. Standing up, you hesitantly place your hand in his, his fingers interlocking with yours. You looked up at him, his expression, his actions, his aura and his eyes. When you looked into his eyes you swore you could see him. You swore you could see Harry, looking back at you.