MOMENTS

The Fight

A/N: if you could remember to vote for this, that would be amazing! :) maybe I can get more than two votes on a chapter!?

(Harry’s POV)

Emily took off running out of the building, the door crashing closed behind her. I watched the door for a minute, before swinging my head over to Elsie who was running a frantic hand through her hair, repeating, “Shit, shit, shit,” under her breath.

“What’s going on?” I asked, looking around at my bandmates, all of them having equally confused faces. Elsie looked at us as if she had just realized we were here, her face a much paler color than it had been just minutes before.

“I just gotta get to the hospital, okay?” She said, taking a few steps away from us before I did something I never really saw myself doing. I reached out and grabbed Elsie’s thin wrist, her head whipping around and our eyes connecting, the fear seated in her dark brown eyes was terrifying. 

“Let me come with you,” I said, begging with my eyes. She looked at me for a second, before turning back to the door, and then back to me.

“Fine,” She sighed, pulling her wrist from my hand and walking away. 

I turned to my bandmates, about to explain when Liam stepped forward, “We’ll follow you in a car,” He said, his voice as fatherly as ever. I nodded, taking off running behind Elsie.

Elsie drove quickly through the San Francisco streets, her eyes straining to focus as she passed through more than one red light. I tried to look away from her, but I always found my eyes drawing back to her. 

“Where are we going?” I asked, knowing fully well that we were chasing after the small girl that had run out of her apartment just minutes before. Elsie looked over at me, her driving slowing as she turned into a large parking lot.

“The hospital,” She said, the car coming to a halt in an open parking spot. Elsie jumped out of the car and took off running, leaving her keys in the ignition. I pulled the keys from the ignition, killing the engine. I watched the blonde girl run at full speed toward the large building in front of us, more worry in her than I could ever imagine. 

But the scary thing is, is that I could imagine it, and that I knew it. I felt the familiar hurt in my stomach as I walked quickly into the tall building, thinking of my Emily, and all the times I’d worried so badly for her while I was on tour and not able to speak to her. 

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(Emily’s POV)

I ran into the busy hospital, people moving frantically around the waiting room. It felt almost too natural as I walked up to the front desk, my father’s name escaping my lips smoothly, “Charles Westwood,” I asked, “Someone called me about Charles Westwood,” I clarified. 

The woman at the front desk had deep mocha colored skin, her eyes tired from a long day at work. They turned sympathetic for a second, become taking on a cold wall that seemed to be natural for those working in a hospital. I repeated my father’s name, and she nodded, obviously pretending to look in her computer’s files. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” The woman said solemnly, “But Charles Westwood passed away about 5 minutes ago,” She said, looking up at me fully, the sympathy coming back to her eyes, “We’ve phoned his wife to come claim the body,” She finished. I nodded.

“I can take your name for her, though,” She said.

“E-” I started, when I was cut off by the front doors sliding open again, and Elsie’s frantic voice calling out my name, “Emily!” She called.