Fighter |No Longer writing|

Part 75

Harry’s POV

 It had taken me hours to find the perfect stone. I found one ring that I knew she would love. It wasn't too flashy, but had a little simplicity to it. My stomach wouldn’t sit still every time I looked at the shiny object. I get nervous thinking about how I would pop the question.

   I walked in to the hospital in the early hours of the morning and tried not to smile too wide. I was nervous and excited. I took a deep breath and got in to the elevator.

  An older woman was wheeled in as well.

"Floor?" I smiled.

She raised her left cheek in an attempt for a smile. Her hair was gone and she looked weak.

"Forth floor," her accent was thick and unique.

I nodded and pressed the button. There was silence and I began humming.

She scoffed, "You're in a hospital. Don't be so happy."

"Sorry," I quite myself down.

She was wheeled out on the fourth floor and I was left alone.

    I walked past the waiting room. I didn't see my love or her butler, I assumed they were with Clive.

   I walked down the hall. He was propped up, staring at the wall in front of him. I knocked, letting him know I was entering.

"Harry," he sounded cheerful through his painful state.

“How you feeling?” I asked as I walked to the side of his bed and pulled up a chair.

He shrugged, “It could be worse.”

I smiled and looked down to the ground. In the dark situation he was in, he chose to see the silver lining.

“Katherine and Martin went home,” he informed me.

I nodded, “I wanted to talk to you.”

   He moved away from me and shielded his mouth and harshly coughed. A mumbled apology was repeated as another violent cough came. I reassured him it was fine and waited for him to catch his breath.

“What do you want to talk to me about?” he smiled.

   A moment I didn’t think would come this quick, I was speechless. Time allotted me and I hadn’t gathered words that would amaze Clive and give him a hard time saying no to my proposal.

My jaw moved up and down and no words left. I dug in to my pocket and pulled out the small box. Clive’s hand dragged down his chin. His eyes became watery and his chin curled in.

“I wanted to have your blessing?” I asked.

Clive smiled, “You know when she was little, she used to make me play with her. She probably doesn’t even remember,” he scoffed, “She would line all of her stuffed bears in a line. She would use some of her mother’s old jewelry for a ring and wear a vial she made herself," a smile spread across his cracked lips, "I would walk her down the aisle to a big bear and I would stand behind her and listen to her mumble things before she gave the bear a great big hug," he paused and looked at the end of his bed.

"It was different back then. She was happy, most times. I wasn't working that much. She probably doesn't even remember that," his smile dropped. 

"She's still that happy little girl," I reassured him.

He shook his head, "My little girl has slowly withered away. Now she's always being covered by a grey cloud. And I did that to her," a tear skimmed down his cheek. 

I shook my head, "Don't say that."

"But I did. I wasn't there as much as I should've been," he knew even with my little knowledge of his family, I couldn't argue with him.

"You were all going through a tough time. You lost a wife and your best friend, Katherine lost her mother, none of you knew how to cope. You threw yourself in to work, but Katherine didn't have that option. That's not your fault."

He nodded and dried his eyes, "You have my blessing, but you have to do me a favour?"

Clive looked serious, but I quickly replied, "Anything."

Katherine’s POV

    My eyes slowly opened. My head was pounding; my vision was blurry out of my right eye. Smoke entered my lungs, causing a harsh cough to leave me. The sounds of screams and crackles had me confused. I sat up on my elbow, a thick layer of dirt and dust settled on my skin.

   I looked around and didn’t know where I was. I was traumatized. A fire was snapping a few feet away from me. I pushed a desk out of my way and stood on my feet. Cries for help could be heard from miles away. The air reeked of gasoline and burning tar. Blood from a wound on my forehead was staining my right eye.

  “Katherine,” a women coughed.

I turned and ran to her.

My hands franticly clawed at the heavy piece of metal that trapped her legs.

“Mom,” I cried as I tried to help her.

“Go,” her hand rested on mine.

Her finger tips were cold; I didn’t want to let her slip away again.

“No,” I wiped away the blood and tears and tried to lift the airplane door off of her.

I screamed, frustrated I couldn’t even budge it. The tears showed no signs of slowing down as I fell in front of my mother.

I cupped her dusty face with my shaky hands, “I’m not leaving you here.”

Water gathered around the edges of her brown eyes, she too had a cut on her face.

I brushed her hair out of her face, “We’ll get you out of here. They’ll rush you to the hospital, and before you know it, you’ll be back home with dad, Andrew and I.”

I cried harder, not even believing myself.

My mother’s chin curled in and her head moved from side to side, “Please, go.”

    Men came from behind and scooped me up from the crumbling floor underneath me. I shouted and demanded that I stay with my mother. The man in the yellow coat didn’t flinch as I hit and punched his chest.

“Mom!” I screamed as the building rapidly collapsed as the firefighter carried me to safety.

“Katherine!” my eyes shot open and wildly searched the room.

Harry sat by my side, looking worried as hell. My I tried to calm my breathing as I told myself, ‘It was just a dream.’

I lifted my back off of the bed to sit up and Harry immediately wrapped his arms around me.

His hands ran up and down my back, “It was just a nightmare.”

My blood shot eyes stared at Martin, who stood in the door way.