For Your Eyes Only

“Eric who? Who the he-”
“Dude, I think you have the wrong number or something. But you need to calm down.”
“I swear if one more person tells me to calm down today I’m gonna rip their bloody head off!” I screamed into the phone. I was rewarded with the ‘click’ of an ended call. I took deep breaths before I dialed again.
“C’mon, man, obviously if she deleted your number she doesn’t want to talk to you,” Eric said.
“Please let me talk to her. She… We… were separated because of my job. I just want to hear her voice…” I sounded bloody pathetic, but I didn’t care. I just wanted Annie.
“Well I would, but she’s in the hospital. Sorry.”
“What?!” I shouted. “Why?”
“I was in her flat and she just passed out, man. I don’t know who you are, but I’m here with her. I’ll take care of her.”
“Like heck you will,” I mumbled before hanging up. “Guys!” I cried, running out of the bathroom and straight into the three of them. They were all huddled by the door with faces that screamed “Guilty!”. “Um, lads she’s, eh… she’s in the hospital.”
“What? What happened?” asked Liam, growing concerned.
“I don’t know. Some guy named Eric answered the phone and-and said he was in the flat and she passed out. Guys, she’s moved on. I knew it.”
“Nah, he was probably just a friend…” mumbled Louis, not even believing his own excuse.
“Well, c’mon, then,” said Harry, grabbing his keys and heading to the elevator. The three of us stared at him in shock. What was he doing?
“What?” I asked.
“Let’s go win back your girlfriend.
~Four Hours Later~
My phone went off as soon as I got my suitcase from the luggage bay. I fumbled with my pockets for a moment before locating it and sliding the answer button.
“Hello,” I said, distractedly looking through the phone book for a taxi.
“Niall Horan, what the heck do you think you’re doing?” shouted Paul from the other end. I hesitated and heard a small voice from the background of the call.
“Sorry, Nialler! He found us in seconds!” That was Louis. So, Harry bought me plane tickets for a flight leaving for Ringway International Airport in Manchester, and we smuggled me and my suitcase to the airport as fast as possible. The boys returned to the hotel and hid, trying to avoid Paul for as long as possible. They hadn’t asked permission to send me. They just did, because they’re the best friends I’ve ever had.
“Paul, I have to see her. She’s in the bloody hospital!” I shouted, opting for the bus that was boarding outside instead of a taxi. I ran out and climbed on at the last second, fishing for some cash and handing it to the driver.
“I don’t care, Horan. You have responsibilities. You can’t just take off like that!” Then came Liam’s voice from the back.
“Paul, she needs him too. Would you like to be the one to blame if she dies?”
“She’s not going to die,” I ground into the phone before firmly hanging up and shutting it off. The ride seemed to last for ages, and all I could wonder about was if she really did have a new boyfriend. Sure, we were only together officially for a couple of weeks, but it was so intense. The way she looked at me, the way I got so nervous around her. She almost radiated perfection and innocence.
“Cheshire!” I jumped out of my seat and stumbled to the front of the bus, skipping the steps and running to the nearest petrol station.
“Oi, mate, where’s the hospital at?” I asked the guy sitting at the desk. He looked bored, but I didn’t have time to think about that.
“Dude, it’s literally right there.” He pointed across the street. Duh. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.
“Oh… Um, thanks,” I said as I rushed out the door. I nearly got hit by at least four cars as I ran across the busy intersection, but I finally made it to the front desk in the Urgencies department. “Hello, I’m looking for a, um, Annie Powl?” I said nervously. The older woman clicked around slowly on the computer, causing me to shake my leg impatiently. The silence was unbearable. Please hurry up. Hurry the heck up lady. I need her. Please.
“Room 175.” I took off running without another word, and got lost several times before I found room 169. I followed the numbers down the hall. 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 175… I didn’t bother knocking.
But that was the worst decision of my life.

Notes

Why do you think it was a bad decision? What horrors await him behind the door to Room 175? MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
But seriously I love all my readers. Thanks gallons for supporting me. I hate putting my music, writing, and whatever out where people can see it, but it makes it worthwhile when I know people are enjoying it.