HARRY'S POV
The shot missed, its trajectory veering off course. Harry stood there, his heart racing, uncertain whether it was by chance or by purpose. The ambiguity gnawed at him.
Yet, in that moment, he found himself wishing it hadn't missed at all. Louis's voice cut through the tense air, a string of profanities escaping his lips as realization dawned upon him.
"What the fuck. What the fuck," he muttered, his disbelief palpable.
Tremors coursed through his trembling hands as he collapsed against his father, his anguish pouring out in sobs upon the unforgiving floorboards.
Harry's senses swirled in a chaotic maelstrom, his mind struggling to grasp the unfolding turmoil. The voices around him melded into an indistinguishable blur, his ears ringing with disorientation.
Amidst the chaos, the distant wail of an ambulance could be heard. Through hazy vision, he observed the Tomlinson bodyguards restraining his father.
Nathaniel Tomlinson's voice cut
through the din, commanding Harry to relinquish his weapon, and in a daze, he complied, the weight of his actions settling heavily upon him.
Harry's gaze fixated on the heartbreaking scene before him: Louis's limp form cradled in his father's embrace, tears glistening in those once vibrant blue eyes.
In that moment, everything else faded into insignificance, his thoughts consumed by the devastating sight before him. Harry knew what it must've looked like when Louis walked in.
But surely....
Surely.
Louis doesn't believe it was him.
Does he? No. He can't.
Surely the shot was just a flight or fight response. Surely, Louis couldn't believe it was him who had caused this tragedy.
The very thought seemed inconceivable. He clung to the fragile
hope that Louis didn't harbor such suspicions. No, he couldn't. The bond they shared ran too deep for such mistrust to take root.
Within the blink of an eye, the bustling hall emptied, leaving Harry engulfed in a disorienting void. A fleeting glance from blue eyes pierced through the chaos, leaving an imprint on his
troubled mind.
Marjorie's voice reached his ears like a distant echo, yet its meaning eluded
him in the haze of the moment.
The once-piercing wails of the ambulance faded into silence, replaced by an oppressive heaviness that settled upon Harry's weary frame.
The burning sensation of his inner wolf intensified, rendering him unable to maintain his stance. He felt like he was about to faint. His consciousness slipping away as he crumpled to the unforgiving ground.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Harry's consciousness gradually returned, the darkness receded, replaced by the harsh reality of his pounding headache. A searing pain radiated from his collar. He winced at the sensation, his hand instinctively reaching to soothe the source of discomfort.
With each passing moment, the events of the gathering flooded back into his consciousness, an unwelcome onslaught of memories he longed to escape. He realized that he wasn't
wearing a shirt.
Uncertaintyy clouded his thoughts as he struggled to orient himself in time. What day was it?
The desire to retreat into the comforting embrace of sleep tugged at him, tempting him to deny the harsh truths he now faced. Yet, he couldn't. He felt the simmering rage of his inner
wolf.
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Fuck Destiny and Fuck You
FanfictionHarry Styles and Louis Tomlinson were born into two of the wealthiest families in London. Despite their privileged upbringing, they couldn't be more different. Louis was a hopeless romantic who believed in soulmates and destiny. Harry, on the other...
