WILD // (Harry Styles)

S E V E N T E E N

CHAPTER 17

HARRY

"Claire," I hear Louis whisper, his frame freezing as his eyes land on her. Niall steps in from behind him, his mouth agape, his nostrils flaring like he's about to cry.

"Y- you're alive," he exhales sharply. His head shakes, unable to believe his eyes.

"Oh honey, we're so glad you're okay," Troy says as he and Johannah also step into the room, and I roll my eyes. That's the best he can do? He's "so glad"? They don't deserve to be here.

"Move the fuck outta the way!" I hear a pitched voice behind them all, as I see a couple of hands jumping up and down. They finally make way for Michael, and his eyes widen as he sees her.

"YES BITCH!" He blurts loudly, his palm laid flat on his sides, as if he's struggling to keep his balance.

He runs over, embracing her with his arms, and Claire expression grows with confusion. Even with his extravagant attitude, he cries into her neck.

"You lucky you survived, I would've gone ham on your ass if you died," he says in between sobs, hugging her tightly. She remembers Michael. They were friends for 4 years.

"I'm okay... But can someone tell me what happened?" Claire says with frustration, looking over at me, then the doctor. Yang steps closer to her, and sits down beside her, a gentle expression on her face.

"A week ago you were abducted by a man with the name Zayn Malik," She starts, and my stomach twists by the mention of his name. He did this to her. The anger and fury I feel towards him is too much for me to handle or process right now, so I try to ignore it. For now.

Claire eyes are locked onto Yang, as her eyes widen with the information. A streak of fear spreads across her face, worry seemingly pulsing through her.

"He held you captive for 7 days. And according to the tests, he drugged you with scopolamine. It has made you lose some of your memory, and other side effects are expected too." Her voice is too calm for the content of her speech. She is telling a girl how she has lost a year, and her eyes don't even flinch.

"What other side effects?" Her voice shivers as I see her body crouch. She's overwhelmed, this is a lot to take in. Especially in 15 minutes. The doctor steps forward from the corner of the room, her chart in his hands.

"Well, you may have moments of lucidity, where you remember everything, even though it's close to a zero chance. You could suffer from temporary insanity, mood-swings, anxiety, over-emotional episodes..."

"People who use scopolamine on their hostages, often have motives to twist your sense of reality, and in most cases..." The doctor pauses for a second, looking back at me, like he's going to say something I don't want to hear.

"Victims become dependant on their captors, and they form an emotional bond--and believe they care about their captor, even believe they love them." He says and my heart drops. No. Fuck no. My palm twitches, and it curls up in a fist, ready to punch someone in the fucking face. A tear hits the floor before I realize I was crying. Again. But it's from anger. Pure rage.

"But I don't remember Zayn Malik... ergo I don't love him! I don't remember any of this!" her voice goes sonic as her frustration reaches her throat. Claire hates being told what she's feeling.

Looking at her - knowing she doesn't love me, knowing she doesn't remember me, knowing she thinks she has her old life - the life she was so miserable living... it's killing me.

"Can we jus- Niall!" she interrupts herself as her eyes land on him. She smiles, opening her arms. He walks over in an instant, leaning his head over her shoulder and presses her body against his. I restrain myself from ripping him away from her, because she hated it even when she loved me - she'd hate it even more now.

She met Niall when she was 13. She remembers meeting him, clearly. She knows who I am, but I met her in California 4 months ago. She doesn't remember ever meeting or knowing me.

"Why are you crying?" she asks him as they part. He shakes his head, a few more tears rolling down his cheeks. She doesn't remember that he loves her, which is a good thing. I'm going to make sure he doesn't tell her, and that they spend as little time as possible together from now on.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he says, and he backs away, his eyes locking on mine for a second before leaning against the wall again. The scowl shooting out of my eyes makes him scoff, crossing his arms.

"Can we go home now?" she requests, looking over at her parents. They blink, looking at each other.

"Uhm... you live here in New York now sweetie, with Harry." Johannah smiles gently, nodding towards me. I see in Claire's eyes that she is unsure.

"Right..." she says, bobbing her head down.

"You don't have to go back with Harry, Claire... I have a hotel room, you can stay with me during your recovery," Louis says, stepping forward. My heartbeat accelerates as she slowly nods, considering it. No... I need her to come home with me.

"Stop," I whisper, and somehow everybody manages to hear it. They all turn to me.

"Claire, look at me." I say, walking up to her and I take hand in mine. Thankfully, she doesn't pull away. I look deep into her eyes, and her lips part as her breath gets heavier.

I feel my gut tighten as I realize how much this matters. Where she will live from now on. If she doesn't come home with me, chances are that she won't remember me. Plus, I just can't come home to an empty apartment again. It'll be too painful.

"I am your boyfriend, I love you. Please... come home. I know you don't remember me, but this is your life," I say, pointing to the ground.

"New York is your home, I am your home." I pour my soul into my words, hoping she will trust me. Hoping she will believe me.

"Let me show you your home." I end the plea, and I clench my hands around hers. She looks at Louis, then back at me. Her eyes squint very slightly, her brows lowering. She is searching for something. My stomach flutters as a gleam of the Claire I know appears in her eyes. After a few seconds, she relaxes her face, and a small smile spreads.

"I... guess I'm going home, then."

A/N

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