A Journalist and a Singer [h.s]

17.

Harry's POV:
"We should be there soon." John says as he dials a number on his phone, presumably Gabb's. He closes his phone in frustration. No answer.

Again.

"We shou-" I start, but he cuts me off.

"We can't go back. We're closer to Micah than we are to the bunker. We don't know if something is wrong. Just keep driving." he says, staring onto the road.

"If she gets hurt John, I don't know what I'll do."

"She can hold her own, we've trained her well. Gabbs knows what to do." he says, but he doesn't get it.

"I'm not talking about Gabbs."

John lets out a heavy sigh. "I told you Harry. Don't get attached. Look where it gets you."

"Too late." I look at him with a grimace. "Look, we just need to make sure they are alright as soon as we get Micah to safety. No one is dying today, got it?" I ask, and John nods.

The drive was long. Long and silent. John didn't ask any questions about my feelings for Maggie, and honestly I'm thankful for that, because I don't think I would've known how to answer them.

I don't even know that there is anything to talk about. Sure, Maggie is beautiful, amazing, and I love being around her. Sure, I always note how she smells like lavender, how her eyelashes flutter when she's tired, how her lips curl when she laughs, how she twirls her rings when she's anxious. Does that mean anything?

Maybe.

Realization hits when I swerve back onto the road, re-entering the line of traffic. It hits me like a bolt of lighting, but as soft as a feather brushing against my cheek. Suddenly my mind's clear, my worries are intensified, and there is only one person on my mind.

Maggie.

It was always Maggie. From the moment I met her on the plane, when I had to leave her that note, not knowing if I would ever see her again. To when I had to leave her standing in the bunker, scared and afraid. All of those simple moments that have stayed between us, the stars, the talks, everything, it's all built up to this.

And I could not be more stupid.

John's right, or at least he sort of is. I got attached to Maggie, there's no denying it. But I shouldn't have done it. It's too dangerous for her to be even remotely involved with me, I don't know what I was thinking. As I drive, my mind flickers through different memories, the party, surprising her at work, helping her move in, the kiss... oh.

Oh.

When she pressed her lips against mine, I swear I heard angels sing. I knew from that point on that I would need her in some way, but little did I know that I needed her more than anyone else. If she asked me to move away from this crazy life, to move to the states and settle down, I would. If she asked me to swim in hot lava, I would. Whatever she asked of me, I would do it.

"Harry, your phone." John says, interrupting my train of thought once again. I pick it up and look at the screen, one simple letter on it.

X.

I look at John in pure panic, his eyes narrowing in on the screen. He snatches the phone out of my hand and quickly clicks on Maggie's contact, pressing the phone up to his ear.

No answer.

"Harry, there's nothing we can do. We're closer to Micah. Stick with the plan." he tells me, and it's all I can do not to scream.

"And if they die?"

"Like you said, no one is dying today. We can save them all." John turns around in his seat to look at the car behind us. Mac is driving and shaking Tate, who had been asleep this entire time, naturally. John calls Tate.