Reason to be - Harry Styles ✓

55. Perfect storm

April's POV

'What are you doing?'

Harry's dead.

'You have a contusion'

It's my fault.

'You have fragments of glass in your back and shoulders'

Why did this happen?

'You also probably have a broken rib'

It's only my fault.

I didn't know. I didn't know what was real anymore. The plain voices sounded like they were just besides me. But that was impossible, right? I was running, I was sure of it, I wasn't cold. And the lights around me moved fast. I surely was running. Where was I?

Where was I going?

'Harry, Harry, Harry. Death. Harry. Guilt.'

Did I have no control over my mind anymore? Is that what it feels like going crazy?

'Crazy. Stupid. Murderer. It's your fault'

No...

No, don't be stupid. Harry isn't dead. He's at the restaurant.

'You saw the plane crash. He's dead. It's your fault.'

Harry is waiting for me. He never left. Why did I ever go to the airport in the first place? I shouldn't have, of course I shouldn't have. He's home. No, he's at the restaurant. He's waiting for me.

"Watch it, you bitch," a voice shouted, just as a loud horn almost defeaned me. Only then had I realised something fast, a car I guessed, had barely missed me by a few centimetres. I stopped in my track dizzily, faltering, then I felt it again, another car. This one scratched my leg. Didn't they see me?

Another horn. Blinding light pointed at me. This wasn't going to avoid me. Why would I move though? What could possibly happen?

Harry. Harry is waiting for me.

"April, move!" someone screamed, a voice that confused me. It wasn't Harry's, but I was already running from the road, in a moment of false lucidity. I couldn't let myself run over by a car, Harry was waiting for me.

I was running, or so I thought I was, until I heard the voice again,

"What the fuck were you thinking?!"

Then I realised that a pair of arms was holding me still and I was just struggling in the embrace. My vision was blurry; I didn't see who was keeping me from getting to Harry, but I was getting more annoyed by the second. Who was this to think they had a right to stop me?

"Let me go," I chocked through my dry throat and I wasn't sure if sound even came out of my mouth, but I repeated it aimlessly "Let go, let go, let go."

"I did. For a damn minute, and you fucking ran after that dude to an airport where you could have got killed!"

Airport. Explosion. Crash.

"You always ran after him! You always made me the second option, you never wanted me! All that was on your mind was Harry fucking Styles!" the voice was shouting now.

I was still struggling, but suddenly I felt the same arms push me away so hard that I almost lost my balance. I was confused, but seeing myself free again, I tried running. He caught my arm, stopping me in the track.

"But not anymore because he's dead," he said, and his tone was ice cold and deadly calm now. My mind screamed at his words, but I wouldn't allow them to shake me, since I could feel a smile in his voice that sent shivers down my spine, as his grip tightened on my arm.