King Of Hell (Harry Styles) √

King Of Hell - 34:

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Amora's P.O.V:

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I groan loudly, frustrated. I slam my phone down onto Harry's oak desk and sigh heavily.

"Ozworld's still not answering!"

I exclaim and thrust myself onto the nearest chair, it being Harry's office chair.

"Then, we go an' get 'im."

Harry suddenly says, determination evident in his voice. I look up at him, only to see him exchanging a knowing look with Leerey, who nods and stands up.

Harry and Leerey are going alone to get Ozworld...

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I am five seconds away from ripping the office room clock off of the wall, the annoying 'tick tock' sound driving me increasingly irritated by the second.

"They'll be back soon, Ams."

Gemma says into the quiet room and I nod, deciding to stop my pacing and sit back down. I sigh heavily once seated.

"I hope so, Gem, I hope so."

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I am startled awake by the office door shooting open and slamming against the wall. When I look, I see Leerey and Ozworld helping Harry into the room, a huge gush across his abdomen.

"Oh, my God! What happened!? Who did this to him!?"

I throw questions at the two men while they set Harry down onto the office sofa, where I had been sitting moments before.

"Gem, get Dr Green!"

I tell her and she nods, eyes wide as she rushes from the room. I immediately grab the sofa throw and press it to Harry's wound, him groaning in pain.

"I'm sorry, Baby, but I need to stop the bleeding until Dr Green gets here."

I tell him, swiping a strand of hair away from his sweaty forehead. Calmly, I ask my question again.

"What happened?"

I ask and Ozworld sighs and I know who did this to Harry.

"Your Dad."

I state and I see him nod out of the corner of my eye. Hurried footsteps enter the office; Gemma and Dr Green are here. I back away to allow Dr Green to do his job and turn to the two men.

"Go and get the others. We need them."

I tell them and they nod and disappear from the office. I sigh and turn back to Harry. Dr Green is applying a medical gauze to his wound to soak up the blood.

He's going to need a transfusion.

I think as my eyes land on Harry's letter opener on his desk.

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"How're you feeling?"

I ask Harry, looking at him from where he lays on a hospital bed.

"Sore an' mad at ya."

He mutters and I sigh, resting my hands on my swell as I sit back against the chair I was on.