The Fighter *Harry Styles*

29

Song for part two of The Fighter: Sirens- Cher Lloyd

Song for the chapter:

Maroon 5- Maps

Sam Smith- Stay With Me

5 Seconds of Summer- Amnesia

Harry's POV:

My foot presses harder on the gas pedal, applying as much as pressure I can. Everything around me is a blur as I continue to press harder on the pedal down the express lane on the highway. All the windows are rolled down, allowing a huge gust of wind enter the car, my hair flying in front of my eyes. 

The car roughly pulls up into the driveway as I don't take my time taking the keys out of the engine and everything. I grab the bottle of whiskey and clumsly walk up the steps, the alcohol kicking in. I harshly slam the door shut behind me, taking another gulp out of the bottle, finishing the rest of the bottle, before smashing it onto the tiled floor. I take a deep breath, and with rage and the amount of alcohol I assumed, I walk into the kitchen, grabbing a plate out of the cabinet and throw it against the ground, watching it shatter into hundreds of tiny little pieces. I take out dish after dish, shattering them without any thought. I break almost all of the dishes and bowls in that cabinet. My breathing is heavy as my chest rises up and down and my heart beats in a fast rhythm. This is ridiculous, I think. My eyes flicker around the kitchen floor, seeing all the mess I created. My boots walk over the glass, cracking noises evident as I walk over it. All the pictures that once hung on the wall, are now on the floor, splintered. I walk up the stairs, trying to ignore all the pictures that hang going up the stairs. I don't want to break more pictures that hold memories with Ariel. Its been a couple of hours since I last had contact with her, but fuck, I miss her so much. I walk into my bedroom, which basically has turned into our bedroom.

Her familiar scent of Amber Blush that she always buys from Bath and Body Works whenever we go to the mall, fills my senses as it lingers strongly in the air. Everything reminds me of her. The bed where we've done so many naughty things and where we slept, the smell that lingers everything she touched, her phone that sits on the dresser and many of her clothing she leaves at my place. I lift up one of her sweater that is laid on the bed, lifting up to my nose, closing my eyes, taking in the high off her clothing.

I open the closet door, taking out a duffle bag and dropping it on the floor next to me. I start picking up random clothing, making sure to take a few of Ariel's clothing, and throw them into the duffle bag, zipping it shut after.

I'm driving 30 meters over the speed limit, heading back to the hospital. Walking through the sliding double doors, a cool gust of air hits me, making me shiver. It's only spring and it's not hot enough to have the air conditioner fucking on full blast.

Walking down the corridor to where Ariel's room is, I envy the people who are finding out that their loved ones are perfectly fine and everything is going to be okay. But for me, nothings fine. My loved one is in a fucking coma. Some people never wake up from a coma. Some end up dying right after they've slipped in or woken up from. Some don't remember shit because their brains been shut down for a long time. It's thoughts like these that make me want to scream and break the first breakable thing. I shake my head and blink the tears away from the negative thoughts.

Ariel's family and Damien are still sitting in the same spot in the waiting room. Both tiredness and sadness cover their faces noticeably. The bag in my hand drops in a loud thump as I take a seat next to Anthony as he mutters: