These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends [h.s.]

Chapter 22

"Fuck Harry what did you do to her?"

"None of this would've happened if Niall didn't let her go out by herself."

"You're supposed to keep her out of harm's way not fucking kill her."

"She's fucking stubborn, Louis. I didn't know it'd be this challenging. I just wished she'd stay fucking put and behave."

"You have to be careful, Harry. If they found out you did this shit to her they'd have your fucking neck by tomorrow."

"I know, I know Liam. I won't let her out of my sight. And I won't fuck up like Niall."

"Hey dickhead, you were starving her. If I didn't help her she would've died or some shit so really I did you a fucking favor."

"Whatever. You guys can't be here when she wakes up I'll call you later tonight."

"Good luck."

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My eyes quickly gain their vision as I open them. The first thing I see is a sheer white curtain blowing against the wind from a towering window on my side. The evening sun shined on my face and it felt comforting. The mixture of its warmth and the breezy wind calmed my mind, serenading me into the lul of a smooth trance. There wasn't a single thing I loved more than this feeling.

"Good morning." A deep voice startled me from my peace of mind making me shift my entire body towards its direction.

Harry was sitting in an armchair grasping some book in his fingers while eyeing my frightened demeanor. His lip was slightly bruised as was his eye and his entire forearm was bandaged. I couldn't see his stab wounds as he was wearing a black t-shirt but I spotted some gauge that seems to be wrapped around his knee from his distressed jeans. He looked a lot better than he did last night. Harry was practically dead when I found him but everything seemed to be healed or stitched like the cuts on his forehead and wrists. I adjust my position from the bed to get a clearer view of the empty bedroom.

Wait, how did I get here? Soon, reality kicks in and memories resurface from last night. The car crash. 

I push the blanket off my body ready to jolt but I groaned in pain as my stomach rolled across the mattress. The pain pierced every inch of my body every time I moved a muscle. I slightly raise the end of my shirt exposing my lower stomach that seems to have been bandaged. My eyes dart to my forearms that were covered with stitches.

"I got you some food." Harry interrupts my bodily inspection and grabs a brown paper bag from the side of his chair, tossing it in my direction.

I try to catch it so it wouldn't hit my face but I fail as my arms ached, causing an object to fumble on the bedsheet. I lifted the bag and noticed it was an apple.

"This isn't food this is a fruit."

"It's edible isn't it?" Harry responds while shoving his head back into his book.

Harry and his stupid fucking remarks and his stupid fucking book. This stupid fucking bed in this stupid fucking apartment. His stupid fucking face and his stupid fucking voice. I hated him more than anything and that hate clearly took control over me when I threw the apple at Harry's face.

"What the fuck what'd you do that for?" He shouts while getting up from the chair, holding his nose with his hands.

"You kidnapped me and held me against my will, forced me to go through one of the worst nights of my life where I ended up trying to save your worthless ass, then you shoot an innocent man in the street and now I have an enormous cut through my fucking stomach," I scream.