Intent [Wattys 2017]

Chapter 48

Emma

Panic induced asthma attack – I'm 12 years old all over again and it sucks just as much now as it did then.

I'm in full on panic mode, cold sweets taking over my body as I shake under his gaze. Harry looks desperate as I take a quick glance at him to try and calm down but it's not enough. I hate the hurt and fearful expression on his face. His eyes lack that particular Harry Styles sparkle and I hate that I'm doing this to him so I bury my face in my hands.

God my hands are clammy. What the fuck Emma, concentrate.

Suddenly long fingers grip around my small wrists and pull my hands from my face as I stare at his kitchen floor.

"Emma please... just breathe for me" he begs me pressing his forehead against mine and pulling my hand against his chest, his minty breath taking over my senses for a brief moment as I shudder against him.

I try, I really try to take in a breathe but nothing comes of it. His hot breathe covers my face once again as his eyes bore into mine. I shake my head trying to shake the asthma attack away but it's a fool's errand.

I want this over.

I want to breathe.

I want to not be like this.

I want to be back in bed curled up next to Harry.

But I need my inhaler.

Harry

The sound of Emma wheezing next to me is literally the worst sound in this world. Well maybe the sound of her sobbing in her sleep is worse than this but whatever this is is a close second.

"Em, please" I emplore her to just look at me. "Just give me a clue on how to help you love, please." I scootch closer to her, pressing her hand against my heart hoping the contact will somehow calm her down.

She's just shaking underneath my hold as my nerves continue to boil over uncontrollably. I just stare at her, her eyes squeezed shut as her forehead rests against mine. A few moments might have past of Em taking in tiny bouts of air but to me it feels like forever.

Suddenly her weak blue eyed gaze hits mine before diverting it to her bag that was thrown on the kitchen counter. That's all I need.

I rummage through it, looking back at Emma every few seconds as she continues to fail to take in breath. This is more than a panic attack and the answer is finally revealed stuffed in the side pocket of her duffle.

Since when does she have asthma? She didn't have it when we were kids?

I grab her inhaler and rush back to where she is curled on the floor and place it between her lips. "Here Em, just breath" and for the first time since this started her eyes meet mine for more than a brief moment with that stare that tells me to just shut up.

She takes in another dose and removes the nozzle, taking in deep breaths, still ragged and uneven but atleast she's breathing. "Em, you scared the shit out of me!" I cradle her face in my hands and take in the features that I tried to memorize just minutes ago in her sleep.

She looks terrified as she stares back at me, her breathing finally slow and steady as she shakily wraps her slender fingers around my wrists. "I'm sorry Haz." Her words are strained and hoarse and completely unwarranted.

"Don't Em, I'm just glad you're okay." Tucking her sweaty strands of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry. But you're not gonna fuck this up. I promise. I'm not going anywhere, I know you're nervous but there no need, alright? Please believe me."