Every Possibility |Harry Styles AU|

Kathryn is currently battling leukemia for the past years of her life. She tries to keep a happy image up for her mother, who won't let go. But all Kathryn is trying to do is live life as much as she can before she passes away, but gets more than she ever expected with the one and only Harry Styles, the most powerful and dangerous narc there is. As the wheels change in every direction for both of them now they have to find a way to have life over death, but they might as well both be dead.


4. Chapter Three.

There are glowing green eyes staring back at me. I gulps down air; trying to breathe correctly; taking a look at my surroundings. I am at the park; he park, to be exact. I turn my heel, walking in another direction as fast as I can. But there are his eyes again. Turning another way, he is there once more. He is everywhere, I notice. I can’t escape. He is coming closer. . .

Kathryn’s eyes pop open. Her heart beating fast; she breathes unevenly.  There is noise that she can’t make out all around her. Kathryn tries to get up; wanting to get up and run, because he’s here. He is everywhere she seems to look, though she has no idea why he would. He shouldn’t, because nothing from that night seemed to cause to her to be followed by him.

Except at the park. . .

No, no, no, she thought. He had watched her—stalked her. He knew she didn’t say anything. And if it wasn’t obvious, she wasn’t planning to.

“Kathryn! Kathryn calm down! You need to relax!” They were speaking as if she were crazy. But she was far from that, right?

There was a poke through her skin, she could feel it.  And suddenly was; calm. Her body muscles began to relax. And her mind went at ease. And there was nothing but pure blackness.


Kathryn’s eyes opened slowly. She squints through the blinding light. She finds herself in a small, white room; not her room. She sees her arms are connected to some wires as she starts to sit up. Now I really can’t escape, she thinks.

Taking a closer look at the room, she knows it is just another room in the hospital. But how did I get here? She ponders. To her left, there is IV’s, wires, machines she knows too well. She felt her mind fuzzy. Maybe from when they sedated her, she thought. How long was I asleep?

Her eyes were still adjusting, though she found a figure slouching at the foot of the bed. They had their head down. But you could clearly see the mess of brown curls. Who was he? She thinks. Nobody but her mother would be here. Where is my mother? 

Then something hit her; hard in the chest. The mess of brown curls she had seen almost every day. Kathryn let out a gasp. How could she not have seen it?

The body that was hunched over now turns their head up towards her. And then there they were; the same pair of eyes that had haunted her dreams. They stared into her brown eyes that were most likely wide with shock; his were intense; like he didn’t expect her to wake up at this moment. And then it made her wonder how long he’d been here.

He wore a blank expression; his lips tight in a line. He stood up taller in his seat. He wore a simple white t-shirt, exposing his collar bones prominently, and a tattoo that Kathryn couldn’t really get a good look at. “I—I—who are you?” Kathryn finally managed to stutter out. Though she felt relieved she could actually talk. “I—I don’t know you.” She gulped down her breathe, shutting her mouth. She could almost feel her lips quiver; ready to start crying and letting the tears flow down her face.

“I know,” he finally said. There was no expression to his voice.

“I won’t tell anyone!” Kathryn rushed. Stupid, she thought. It had come out before she could think to stop herself and by the look on the stranger’s face, he didn’t see that coming either.
He shrugs saying again, his voice casual now. “I know.”  His eyes glance shortly to something on the bed, it makes Kathryn shift uncomfortably. “Kathryn Alexandra Grace Summers.” The corners of his mouth twitch. “Bit of a handful, isn’t it?”

Kathryn doesn’t answer him when his green eyes come back to her. She tries to look at anything but him, biting her lip. “What do you want, then?” She asks him still not looking at him.

He sighed, getting up out of the chair he had been sitting at. Kathryn now feels more vulnerable. His black jeans were tight; really tight. How could he possibly be comfortable in that tight of jeans? She asked herself. Sure, she dressed in skinny jeans; but not skin tight. She quickly pushed away the thought of his clothes, when she sees that he is towered over her. Even if Kathryn was lying down, making her the smaller person, he was tall. She never knew he was this tall. In the corner of her eye, she sees him move to her side, on the left. He bends down to her height.

Kathryn turns her head towards him. His face is no less than six inches away from hers, making her catch a breath. Biting her lip, she wants to scoot farther away from him; making distance. Personal spacemuch? But she doesn’t move and neither does he; he pushes a button on the side of the bed, making a beeping noise. “The nurse said, if you wake up, to call her,” he says finally standing up.

Kathryn keeps her eyes down. “Kathryn,” he says as he is halfway through the door, looking out the door; making her head shots up to him at the sound of her name being called out from his lips. “It’s Harry.” And then he is out the door, not taking a second glance back.


There goes the answer to her unanswered question, “Who are you?”—well, half of it. He didn’t answer her question like she thought. But she sat there thinking she got a better answer than she’d thought. She had gotten his name; because she had obviously been obsessing what his name could be. Not a full name, though he’d gotten hers, and she wondered if he already knew that without looking at the clipboard that hung on the foot of the bed. Before, she knew she would probably never get his name anyway, especially not his last name. He would probably think she would tell the police so-so was stalking her after she had witnessed him beating a man to the pulp.

And here he was though—Harry; knowing she wouldn’t say anything. And she just found it strange. Why would he even come here? For her to confirm what he already knew? To scare the living daylights out of her; if that was the case then it worked. But he had told her his name just before leaving and he never answered why he was here.

She sighed loudly. She was now more confused. Why should I be thinking about this, anyway? She thought. It was completely useless.

The nurse came in—to her joy, it was Nancy. Nancy smiled warmly at her asking, “How are you feeling?” That made Kathryn cringe. Her ribcage hurt with pressure and she didn't know. It was nothing that she had felt before.  

Kathryn shot her a small smile. “Fine,” she lied. Nancy nodded and Kathryn didn’t care if she believed her or not; as long as she didn’t ask questions. Nancy left, telling Kathryn to sleep. And that’s what she did.


When Kathryn wakes up this time, she turns to her left and then to the right, she sighs in relief. Her mom is sprawled out on an arm chair, sleeping soundlessly; her blonde hair, carelessly on her eyes.

She took her thoughts to the last time she was awoken. She couldn’t have possibly dreamt something like that, though she possibly could. Except, she thought to herself; her dreams couldn’t have given her stalker a name; a conversation.  Kathryn snaps out of her thoughts, seeing her mom finally stir up.

Ms. Summers brings her hand up to her face, sliding her hair out of the way. Her blue eyes adjust to her daughter on the dreadful bed she had always hated seeing her in. Her brown eyes staring back at her. Ms. Summers gets up at once and scoops her daughter into her arms; never wanting to let go.
“Oh, mom, you’re squishing me,” Kathryn tries to laugh through the evident pain there is. Mr. Summer cringes, letting go.  “Mom,” Kathryn asks, making her mom look up at her again. “What happened? Like, I know I passed out, but why?”

And that was enough to make Ms. Summers’ lip start quivering. This was going to be one of the hardest things to say aloud. She noticed her hands were shaking; trying to steady them, she opened her mouth to speak. 

[a/n: okay, how was that? Should i slow the story down a bit, or keep it going as it is?]

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