Outcast

13 - Loneliness

Louis POV

Desperation is a funny thing. But that's all I felt when I watched the nurse place Harry's pills on his small pull out tray.

It had been a few days since I had woken up and I was kind of okay now. The doctors still didn't want to let me go home just yet. They told me they still wanted to observe me and make sure I wasn't going to just seize randomly.

But one thing I made sure they let me do was see Harry. All the time. I had pretty much moved into his room. I wasn't going to leave his side the whole time he was going through this process.

He needed me and I needed him. Simple as that.

"Louis have you taken your pills?"

I gently shook myself as I let my vision come back into focus. How long had I been zoned out for?   We were currently curled up on the bed, Harry's pill cup was now empty and he was staring at me expectantly as if awaiting an answer.

"Uh . . . yes." I replied, cocking my head.

He frowned, "Were you ever listening to anything I said?"

I shook my head and smiled apologetically, grabbing his hand. "Sorry love."

His frown turned into a little smile as he kissed the back of my hand, "I could never be mad at you. I was just saying that these pills are becoming annoying. And then it reminded me that you probably haven't taken your own pills today."

"I have." I reassured him, "I took them before I came."

He let out a little sigh and relaxed against his pillows. I giggled and leant closer to him on the bed, "You are too cute . . . worrying about me."

"Yeah well, I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Aww." I cooed.

"Shut up!" Harry whined, flicking my nose.

I giggled again and snuggled in closer to his chest. "It will get better Harry. Once it's all over."

"But it might not." He whispered, "It could get worse and I'm going to lose my hair and I may not even survive-"

"Don't talk that way!" I snapped. I immediately regretted my outburst as I felt him stiffen underneath me.

"I'm sorry Harry, it's just I don't like hearing you talk that way." I mumbled, playing with the buttons on his shirt. He was actually wearing casual clothes today, instead of that ugly looking hospital gown. I had had the pleasure of wearing it the last couple of days and I swear to god I want to burn the thing. Harry had leant me a shirt and a pair of sweatpants so I was feeling a little better but, it still wasn't the same as my usual chinos.

"It's okay Louis," Harry muttered, "I just get worked up about this and . . . well I don't want to lose my hair! I've never wanted to! That's one of the main reasons I didn't want to get Chemotherapy."

"I know baby." I soothed, kissing his forehead, "But you know I won't care whether you have hair or not. You'll still be beautiful. And it'll grow back."

He cracked a smile, "Thanks Lou."

"Anything for my Hazza." MY eyebrows furrowed as a thought struck me, "Since when does Zayn call you Haz?"

Harry smirked, "He's called me that longer than you have . . . sorry."

I groaned, "But that isn't fair! I didn't know you back then and I'm sure if I had then I would've come up with it first!"

"Oh poor Lou Lou!" He said, using a high-pitched voice.

I slapped his arm and pouted, "Only I can use nicknames here!"