Ephemeral //H.S

Chapter 59

-Harry Styles-

The sight before is one I never thought I'd ever see. There she is sitting on her knees above a body I quickly recognize, her hands stained in red liquid that keeps on flowing in between her fingers, staining Charles clothes and spreading on the kitchen floor as she tries to keep pressure on the wound to his neck.

I didn't hear anything, no gunshot no nothing. And now he's lying there, losing blood too quickly.

"What happened?" I shout, hurrying towards them as I place my hands on Belle's wrists to put more pressure.

"I- I think there's someone in the house." She speaks frantically, glancing up at me and back down at Charles who is struggling to breathe, obviously in a considerable amount of pain.

"There was no gunshot." I say, looking frantically around the small room but I can't see anyone or any sign of attack. Whoever it was must've snuck up on him.

"I'm sorry, I know it hurts but you're gonna be okay." She speaks the reassuring words at our wounded bodyguard, and although her voice wavers a little, her hands aren't shaking and she's trying her best to control her rapid breathing.

"Harry my dress please." I look up at her, seeing the straps that are starting to slip down from her shoulders because I opened the zipper earlier. I quickly zip it up, blood accidentally drips from my hands and down her back.

"It's a cut Harry, he wasn't shot!" She looks up at me, her brows dipped down in sorrow for him, her chest slightly heaving probably because she has no idea what's happening. And I'm just left struggling to understand what just happened, it still hasn't caught up to me because i'm still shocked to see all of this unfold before me.

One second I was waiting for her to come back up to the bedroom, waiting to spend time with her and the next we're hands deep in blood, trying to keep Charles alive.

I look down at him, clenching my teeth at the state of him, my blood now boiling not from desire anymore but from rage.

"There's someone in the house." She repeats quietly to me, a slight hint of fear in her eyes.

"I left my fucking gun upstairs." I whisper, shaking my head to myself and swearing under my breath.

She sighs, closing her eyes when she realizes my words and understands we're probably fucked right now. Her eyes widen when Charles struggles to breathe, she applies more pressure only to make him grunt in pain.

"No, no no..." She looks around the room, slightly panicked until her eyes land on the paper bag on the kitchen table.

"Can you handle knives?" She asks hurriedly to me as I try to push her hands down a little more to stop his blood from flowing too much.

"Course I can, why?" I look back up into her eyes, they seem cold as she looks right back into mine.

"He got me some, they must be in that bag." I nod, not hesitating, I let go of her hands and hurry to the brown paper bag, I empty it on the table and throw one of the shirts Charles had bought for us earlier towards Belle, she catches it and presses it against his neck to stop the blood flow.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you're gonna be okay, it's not too deep it's okay." She looks down at him, offering him a small smile even though she doesn't really know what to do. But there's nothing better she can do right now. His hands fly up to hold her tighter against his neck, his eyes wide but he's not panicking.

I find a small leather bound wallet about the size of a book, knowing what's in there I open it and grab the biggest knife I find, slipping my finger through the hole to hold it the right way. I hide another one in the back of my jeans, and a smaller one on the inside of my shoe.