He's My Nerd (Harry Styles as Marcel fanfic)

Chapter 21

Rosalind's POV

I woke up laying on the same concrete path I passed out on.

My head was throbbing from where it hit the ground.

I winced as I sat up and the world began to spin.

A strange groan escaped my lips as I pushed my upper body away from the ground with my hands, wrists clicking in the process.

What the hell was I doing out here?

A shiver ran down my spine.

God, it was cold.

My hand shakily lifted from the ground as I gently rubbed the side of my head, wincing in pain as I touched it.

There was something sticky matted in my hair, and it felt horrible.

I pulled my hand away, only to realise with a pained gasp of shock that it was blood. My head had hit the ground very hard.

I struggled to remember what I was doing and how it had all hapened. Everything seemed to be spinning and my brain was messed up.

Then, with a cry of horror, Marcel's face shot into my mind and I remembered the blaring horn and the crackling phone that had been ringing in my ears.

My mouth was dry and I felt a strange sickness creeping into the pit of my stomach.

I needed to do something, fast.

Every part of me refused to believe that Marcel was dead.

He couldn't be.

He was so beautiful inside and out. I cared so much for him and I had put him in this horrible situation. I had to get him back out of it.

I needed to find him. I needed to hold him and tell him everything was alright.

I had to tell him how I honestly felt, but that was a problem. How did I feel?

That would have to be something I'd figure out later.

Right now I needed to concentrate on breathing in and out.

In.

Out.

I had to find Marcel.

Find Marcel.

With a deep breath filling my lungs I slowly lifted my body from the ground. I was dirty all down my left side and there was grit embedded in my clothes and clinging to my skin.

My head was throbbing like hell and I began to remember the amount of drink I had forced into myself. That probably didn't help.

"Marcel," I whispered to myself as I took a couple of unsteady steps frowards.

He was my motivation.

One, two, three, four.

Take three steps and take one more.

I repeated the short rhyme over and over in my head, willing myself to keep moving.

I made sure to walk in the direction of Marcel's house, lucky for me it wasn't far from where I had fallen.

However, my luck ran out right there as Marcel's car was not in the driveway, nor was it parked on the street outside.

This confirmed my fears. A small part of me had hoped he'd accidentally hit the horn and dropped the phone, perhaps while turning the car or reversing.

If that was the case, he'd have made it home by now.

I began to cry all the tears I had left, slumping on to the edge of the pavement and lowering my head into my cold, dirty and bloodstained hands. I didn't care about myself anymore. My pain had subsided.