Stay Alive // Harry Styles Fanfic

Chapter 72

December. 

I was just getting out of clinicals, nursing was definitely difficult but I had every reason to keep going. I decided to have my specialty be kids. I walk to my car and see a tall figure holding a small child,

"Jesus Bri! Can you help me here? This little delinquent isn't staying still!" The guy screams, his voice sounding exactly like Harry's, after a year and two months later, I still think of him...of that little bastard, god I hate him, I hate him for everything he put me through and how I still love him unconditionally to this day. This feeling isn't going away no matter what I fu.cking do. No matter what I do.

My heart drops when I heard his voice, could it be him? The person instantly turns around after putting the child in the backseat and closing the door. It wasn't him. A part of me felt instant relief and then I began to wonder, how is Harry? I want to know how he is doing, if he's okay mentally, if he met someone...I want to know. My phone rings breaking me out of my thought process.

"Zach" the Caller ID says.  A part of me felt annoyed to look at the phone and have it not be Harry. Which was strange, I shouldn't be feeling this especially when we havent spoken in ages. 

"Hello?" I answer the phone.

"Hey my love, I'm done with clinicals for the day, how does food sound?" Zach says over the phone, I hear the exhaustion in his voice from a long day.

"Sure, I'd love to." I say as I get in my car,

"Great, meet me at the at the café by the university." He says before hanging up the phone.

I sat in my car with a small frown. I look at my phone and impulsively go to my contacts, pressing on Harry's contact. My thumb hesitated to press the call button on the screen, until I threw my phone on the passenger seat. A freaking year later, why would I want to call him? Just to see how he's doing maybe... is that so wrong? I press my forehead against my steering wheel. Why am I feeling this way?

(Harry POV)

Tomorrow's the fight between Liam and I, I don't really care about whether or not I win or lose at this point, I have my stepfather's company, and I don't really need boxing all that much. I don't have the drive I once did. I was sitting in my pent, drinking scotch out of a small glass, staring out of the window, looking at the city as the sun slowly fell and the lights became brighter. I was supposed to fix myself, and become a better man, I put Hazel through hell and I owe her that much, to be a better man, not for her but for myself but I feel like nothing matters, I was excited for the fight once and I had the motivation but now I'm just doing it cause the rest of the world wants me to, and if I back out, I look a coward. I know I have to stop being so down and out but I couldn't help it, I don't know what's wrong with me. I have everything I could ever want, a beautiful girlfriend, a college degree, a good relationship with my parents again and my brother, I controlled my anger issues, my trauma with Jenny. I don't know what is wrong, why do I feel so empty. I feel so...empty.

My phone lights up and I look down at my lap to see a familiar name pop up which ended up shooting me with a wave of nostalgia from when we would do nothing but party at the mansion. I think about how I left a legacy at NYU and how Jenny would've probably continued it. I smile to myself as I read the message

Skye: Hello old friend.

I chuckle softly and text back a small heart. Life is a bit boring now that I'm done with school. I was already in my last year two years of college when I was with Hazel and graduated with my Bachelors in Business. I could continue if I wanted to but for what? I have it made, whether it's my income from boxing or my stepfather's career. Doesn't matter anyway. I hear the shower turn off and footsteps coming from upstairs.