Matching Rings [h.s]

89

POV: HARRY STYLES

I fasten my seatbelt, settle in my seat, and grip my steering wheel— looking out into the darkness of my apartment parking lot.

"Okay, tell me where to go." I speak eagerly.

I sense Niall looking at me blankly, obviously not having an idea come to his mind.

"Niall," I urged, "where do I go?"

"I- uh." He fumbles, blowing a short raspberry.

"You do have an idea, don't you?" I finally looked at him in the passenger seat, "This was your idea."

"She's your girlfriend, man." Niall defends himself, "I thought you would have somewhere to look or something."

I shut my eyes, my forehead falls to the cold leather wheel— Once again I feel helpless. I don't know why I thought Niall would know something as if he had more information than me, or the police for that matter. I guess it was just wishful thinking on my part.

"This is fucking stupid." I breathe.

Niall has no response, because he's definitely having the same thoughts as I am. I mean we didn't actually think we would go out and find her, did we?

Niall's phone goes off, but he ignores it.

We sit in the bare silence of my car, letting the blasting heater warm us up from the chilling outside. We're both thinking of places to look, but it's not like she ran away— she's not going to be at her favorite spot just chilling there waiting for someone to come. And I seriously doubt whoever took her is keeping her somewhere where two dumbasses, like me and Niall, could just go and find her.

Niall's phone goes off again.

"You can answer it." I say, noticing he might be declining it for the sake of my panic.

He finally puts his attention to his phone, "No it's fine, it's just Jamie going on and on about some party tomorrow night."

He once again declines the call.

"Maybe we should just get some rest, yeah? It's late, this was a dumb idea." I say, putting both of us down.

Niall signs, "Yeah, maybe. Look, I'm sorry man, maybe tomorrow-"

"It's fine." I turn off the car and unbuckle myself, already half outside the car by the time I speak again. "I appreciate you trying."

The rest of the night was sleepless, and by the small constant noises that would once in a while come from across the hall, I knew Niall didn't get much sleep either.

I really fucking hope she's okay.

POV: BAYLIN GRIGGS

I'm extremely drowsy. I feel as though I just slept for well over ten hours, and I'm pretty positive I did. As I begin to regain consciousness, my senses spike before I can even open my eyes.

I'm sitting in a chair, a very uncomfortable wooden one. The room, wherever I am, is hot— yet the sweat that seeps from my pores is cold. I have absolutely no concept of time, the room is dark as night yet my awareness tells me it might be day.

Finally my eyes catch up and they begin to peel open, my vision is blurry from the short or long slumber but when I blink away the gloss I can see that I'm in the same room I was when I was knocked out— only the bed was missing.

As I'm now fully aware of my surroundings, I realize I'm tied to said chair. The shackle that restricted my one foot before was missing, but instead my ankles are tight against the hard wooden legs, bonded by a thick rope. My wrist also meets the standard of my ankles— tied to the chair arms with the same kind of rough rope.