Letting Go (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter 38: Worth Fighting For

Harry Styles

"Shit!"

I stopped pacing, pressing the phone even tighter to my ear. "Nattie? What happened? You okay?"

Her breathing was heavy and agonizing. I gripped the cup of tea tighter in my hands. What happened? Why wasn't she saying anything?

My eyes flitted to Sophie as she took her own cup and walked slowly over to the table, eyeing me the entire time. Not two steps from the chair and she had banged her hip against the countertop, clenching her eyes shut and running a hand through her gray pixie cut. That's when it hit me.

I focused on the heavy breathing over the phone. "How bad is it?"

"It's nothing." She whispered hoarsely.

I shook my head, ignoring Sophie as she leaned against the counter, eyebrows raised. "This is Natalie?" She whispered, her lips tilting up in a knowing smile.

I gave an annoyed nod, going back to Nattie. "You should know by now you can't lie to me babe. How bad?"

She didn't utter a syllable, but the labored, choked up breathing said everything. Holy shit, was she crying? Where was she? Did she need to go to the hospital? What if she really needed a doctor? What if the therapy wasn't working? I'm gonna go awol.

"Damnit Nat, say something!"

"I'm scared!" She wailed.

My cup plummeted to the marble countertop. "Shit! Ow!" Drops of blood dripped from my palm as hot tea and tiny glass shards splattered everywhere. It stung like hell, but I couldn't move. She had never sounded so desperate; so terrified and hopeless. The sound of her sobs echoed on the other end of the line and there was nothing I could do.

Suddenly, Sophie grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards the sink. "You're all cut up."

"Freaking hell." I yanked my wrist out of her grasp and paced around the kitchen. I couldn't think straight. The image of her shaking, curled up body in the bunk bed swirled around in my mind...but this sounded so much worse. "It's going to be okay baby, alright? I'll call Connor and..."

"No!" She shouted, her voice strangled in between sobs.

Sophie placed a hand on my shoulder as I closed my eyes. If only I was there...

I could make sure she was okay. I could put my arm around her and rub her back until the pain passed like I had at the diner. But I wasn't there - I was standing on another continent, clenching a bloody paper towel in my fist. And I could picture her on the other end, clear as day - closing everyone off and trying pretend like nothing was wrong with her, just like she always did. "Don't do this. You need help." I pleaded.

She took a shaky breath and I waited for her response. I hoped against hope that she would let me call Connor to make sure she was okay. Unfortunately, I knew her too well.

"Well you're - you're not here Ha-Harry." She stuttered. "See you Saturday."

Without another word, she hung up.

I dropped the phone and yelled at the shattered screen. "Damnit Nat!" Stomping to the other side of the counter, I threw myself on a stool, head in my hands.

Footsteps crept towards me and lingered to my right. A gentle hand ran through my curls over and over. "She's hurt again, huh?" Sophie asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." I mumbled. "You tricked me into telling you about her in the first place."

She sat down next to me. "I asked about camp. Anything you told me was of your own volition."

I ignored her comment. What if I called Connor anyway? She could be in real trouble. I would hate myself if something happened to her and I could've prevented it. But, no one else knew that she hadn't been going to the doctor. Surely they'd find out now. "Why does she have to be so freaking brave all the time?" I muttered angrily.