Thanks for Being There- a Harry Styles Love Story
We ran through the crowded, messy, but beloved streets of our city, Manhattan. He gripped my hand and pulled me further as we sprinted by stores, stands, and plenty of people. I tried to turn around to see if the cops had gained on us, but my head whipped back around to see a stroller straight ahead of me. I took a sharp left and barely dodged it. I could tell he needed a break, so we sprinted into an alley.
In the middle of the deserted alleyway, he stopped and tried to quit panting. All of a sudden, I saw a bright blue uniform, two, on either end of the alley. The cops, dang. Each of them had a gun pointed straight at us. They slowly edged towards the two victims in the middle, which just happened to be me and him, but refused to lower their weapons. Harry looked furious.
“Try me,” he teased at the cops.
“THAT’S IT!” bellowed the one to my right. “You’d better try to shield yourself.”
He got ready to pull the trigger. My heart started to race as fast as the bullet would come. I felt Harry’s hand tighten around mine. Just as I heard the gun fire, Harry threw his other arm around me and we crashed to the floor, and I blacked out.
