Back For You (Harry Styles)

Part 36

Lucy's POV:

Everything seems slower when something bad is happening. It's almost like your mind doesn't want you to believe what's happening, so it slows down your senses to temporarily prolong the inevitable. 

As soon as the bullet leaves Marcus's gun, the earth seems to stop spinning. My mouth is open and I can hear myself screaming, but it's as if I'm far away. I can see Harry fall to the ground, but I am unable to move. I can feel Marcus's gun on me, but I can't find it in me to care.

"Harry," I whisper, dropping to my knees and pressing my hands against the wound in his chest. Memories similar to this invade my mind: the memory of seeing my mother's dead body hanging from the balcony and the memory of hearing the continuous drawl of the heart monitor that signified my sister's death. I don't want this to become one of those memories.

"Harry, please," I whimper, taking his face in my hands and staring at the boy I love, begging for him to wake up. 

"Please."  

Relief floods through me when Harry's eyes flutter open and he looks at me like he always has, despite the situation we're in. His eyes are loving and safe, and I know I'll never be happier than I am  when I'm with him.

"Get away from him!" Marcus shouts, and I tear my eyes away from Harry to glare at him. Anger consumes me as I see the gun that shot Harry, which is now pointed at me. 

"Your turn," Marcus smirks, and I squeeze my eyes shut while my fingers search for Harry's. I find them right as the gunshot rings through the air.

I don't feel anything. Perhaps I was killed instantly and I am now in the after life? I open my eyes and still see Harry lying on the pavement with blood flowing out of his chest, but the rest of the scene has changed. Marcus now lies on the ground clutching his shin while Connor holds the silver gun that fired the shot. 

I don't have time to care about anyone other than Harry. I take off my jacket and press it to the wound as Harry grunts in pain. Tears are burning in my eyes at the thought of what might happen to him.

"Don't cry, Luce," Harry breathes, his voice weak. I am scared, so scared, that I will lose him. 

"Harry, I don't want to lose you," I whimper, squeezing his hand tightly. 

"You-you won't," he whispers, lifting his other hand to cup my cheek. "Never."

I am only acutely aware of Connor removing the gun from Marcus's hands, but I don't even feel safer. Harry got shot. It already happened. 

"But Harry, what if-" I begin, but he pulls me down by the back of my neck and connects our lips, silencing me. I kiss him with everything I have in me. I need him to feel how much I love him, because this might be one of the last chances I have to show him. This thought sends fresh tears rushing down my cheeks, and he kisses me harder once he feels them fall onto his own face. The burning passion between us is evident, and I hope it never dies out. I love him so much.

When we finally break away, Harry is crying too, which shatters the already broken pieces of my heart. Just as I reach my hand out to wipe away his tears, blue and red lights blind me while sirens block out all other sound. I blink back my tears and search frantically for an ambulance until I finally find one. I see several men and women readying a stretcher so I know I have only moments before he is whisked away. This could be the last time I ever see him. 

"Harry, listen," I begin, but he silences me again, this time with a slight shake of his head. 

"No, Lucy, I need to tell you something," Harry breathes, and I can't help but notice how shaky his voice is.