Echoes of Love

Sign of the times

Harry's POV:

The walk home from school felt longer than usual. The autumn chill had settled into the air, making me pull my jacket tighter around me as I shoved my hands into my pockets. I hadn't heard from Lou since classes ended. He said he was going to walk to Liam's place because they were working on that English project together, but I couldn't shake this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I pulled out my phone and checked it again—no new messages. Maybe he's busy, I thought, trying to brush away the unease creeping up my spine. Louis always texted me when he got somewhere, even if it was something simple like, "Made it, all good." The silence today felt off.

When I finally reached home, I unlocked the door and stepped inside, kicking off my shoes and dropping my school bag by the door in my usual messy routine. The house was quiet, too quiet, but that was normal. I ran up the stairs, the wooden steps creaking beneath me, and flopped onto my bed as soon as I reached my room.

I stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to shake off the nagging worry that had been following me. I grabbed my phone again, scrolling through Instagram, aimlessly flicking past posts, but nothing held my attention for more than a second. I stopped occasionally to read some of the comments, but the buzzing in the back of my mind wouldn't leave me alone.

And then, Louis' caller ID popped up on my screen. Relief washed over me so fast that I nearly dropped my phone in my scramble to answer.

"H-Hi, my lovely Lou bear," I answered, half-laughing at myself for being so jumpy.

But then, silence.

Something was wrong. I could feel it immediately. It wasn't Louis.

"This is not Louis," the voice said, calm but firm. My heart stuttered in my chest, confusion quickly giving way to panic.

"Who is this? What happened to him?" My voice was louder now, fear seeping into every word.

"I am a doctor," the voice on the other end said. "Louis is in the hospital."

The world seemed to tilt, everything moving in slow motion as I processed the words. Hospital? Why? What happened to him? A million questions rushed to the front of my mind, colliding into each other, none of them making sense.

"Oh my God, is he okay?!" I asked, my voice rising, hands shaking. My heart was racing now, a loud thud in my chest, as if my body was bracing for the worst possible news.

"It would be better if you came here," the doctor said, his voice still calm, but that calm only made the panic surge inside me.

"Okay, I'm on my way," I managed to say, but it didn't feel real. Nothing did. The call ended, and I just stared at my phone for a moment, frozen, not knowing how to react.

Then it hit me all at once. Louis is in the hospital. He's hurt. I need to be with him.

I bolted out of bed, heart pounding in my chest, and nearly tripped over my feet as I rushed downstairs. My hands were trembling so badly I could barely slip my shoes on. I grabbed my coat and keys from the hook by the door, all while trying to calm my racing thoughts, but it wasn't working. I could feel the panic rising like a tidal wave, threatening to consume me.

I don't usually drive at night. Louis always drives when it's dark out; he knows how anxious I get. But now, he needed me, and I had no choice but to do it. I couldn't let fear get in the way.

I got into the car, fumbling with the keys, my hands slick with sweat as I started the engine. My breath came in short, shallow gasps, and I gripped the steering wheel hard, trying to steady myself. You need to calm down, I told myself. You need to focus. But my mind kept flashing to Louis. I kept picturing him, alone, hurt, scared. I didn't even know how bad it was, and that was the worst part. The not knowing.

The drive felt endless. My hands were gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white, and I could barely focus on the road. My mind was spinning, running through every possibility. What if he's seriously hurt? What if he's unconscious? What if...?

No, I couldn't think like that. Louis was strong. He had to be okay.

Every red light felt like torture, every second ticking by too slowly. I tapped my fingers nervously on the steering wheel, glancing at the time on my phone. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath until I finally reached the hospital parking lot. My chest heaved as I parked the car and jumped out, not even bothering to lock it behind me.

The cold night air bit at my skin, but I barely felt it as I rushed toward the entrance. My heart hammered in my chest as I pushed through the doors, my eyes scanning the lobby for any sign of Louis, for any sign of what had happened.

I stumbled up to the front desk, out of breath, the panic clear in my voice as I blurted, "Louis Tomlinson—where is he? I need to see him."

The nurse gave me a sympathetic look, her eyes softening as she typed something into the computer. "He's in the ER. I'll take you to him."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. As I followed her down the long hallway, my legs felt weak, like they could give out at any moment, but I kept moving. For Louis.

And all I could think about was how everything changed in just a single moment. My lovely Lou, my best friend—what if I lost him? The thought lodged itself deep in my chest, and I couldn't breathe.

I just needed to see him, to know he was okay.