Through The Dark || Harry Styles

40. HARRY

HARRY

I try not to debate the rights and wrongs of my actions as I drive to Lucy's house, leaving Sarah behind without a glance back to where she remained on her sofa.

Her disappointment was radiating off her and her goodbye was short.

And final.

I feel like a needy child - beckoned and I run - despite how hard I try and convince myself that this is an emergency and she needs me.

Lola needs me.

"Thank god you're here," Lucy is a mess as she recklessly crashes her body into mine without thought, crying desperately into my chest after I drop all the supplies onto her table and my hand finds the back of her hair momentarily.

I try to hush her gently, but the feeling of her pressed against me is a distraction.

She doesn't wait more than a couple of seconds before dragging me by the arm to where Lola's lies.

"Careful!" Lucy shrieks as I bend down to pick her dog up.

I jolt back at her dramatic reaction, leaving Lola and instead, wrap my arms tightly around the girl who is not coping with any of this.

"Hey, look at me," I wait for her teary eyes to tear away from Lola and focus on mine. "I love her. I want her to be okay as much as you do. I will do everything I can to fix this. You know that."

She nods frantically at the seriousness in my voice as my thumbs brush her cheeks in an attempt to keep her grounded.

The urge to kiss her is overwhelming when she is like this but I know why I'm here: the necessity for Lola not out of the desire of Lucy.

The reality is sobering.

I must have been looking at her lips because her gaze flicks to mine before meeting me back in the middle.

I swallow hard before speaking. "I'm going to put Lola on the dining table so I can examine her, all right? But, I have to concentrate, so you need to go into your bedroom and close the door. I don't want you to leave the room until I come and get you."

"What? Why? Is she going to die?" she cries and I have no answer for her.

"The quicker you do it, Luce, the sooner I can help her," I state and she has nothing left to argue with.

Working quickly, I spread everything I brought with me out to the side. I'll have to call my boss later and explain what the hell I was doing at night taking things from the hospital.

I pick the trembling Lola up into my arms and a lump in my throat swells.

She's in a bad way.

Usually, I'm the unemotional, level-headed professional, but as I hold her closer to my body, I can't help but whisper to her.

"Hi, sweet girl. It's me, Harry. I've missed you so much."

To be honest, what I fear the most is a snake bite or anything that would cause her already squished airways to close even further.

I've examined hundreds of patients, seen thousands of animals come and go, some in worse states than others. But never has it been so personal; meant so much.

It takes me only fifteen minutes to make my assessment, my hands trembling as much as the little pug in front of me. I check and double-check the signs I'm reading to make sure they continue to lead to the same conclusion. I fumble around, looking for a couple of things before injecting her with something to ease the swelling and the pain.