My precious Zayn was laying on the hospital bed in front of me, unconscious and bloody. I still hadn't stopped crying. It was around midnight two days after the incident and no matter what my sister said, I refused to leave his side. He had just saved my life.
"Are you sure this is how you want to spend your new year's eve."
"Yes." Never had I felt more certain about anything.
If that wasn't love then I didn't know what was.
I felt silly for thinking Zayn was the one who was trouble, when all along it had been Harry. So what if Harry had caught Zayn snogging another girl. We weren't dating at the time. I didn't care. We weren't even dating now. But yet Zayn had risked his life for my own.
And Harry thought he loved me. He didn't know the first thing about love.
"Zayn, you are still wonderful," I whispered, gently touching the bandages wrapped tightly around his forehead. I stepped back for a moment inspect the damage. He had stitches right below his eyebrow and on his chin. His nose was broken. He had broken both of his legs and his right arm need surgery. The doctors told me multiple times that it was a miracle he was alive.
I continued to weep by his side, carefully resting my head on his chest to make sure he was still breathing. His heart beat was steady and strong. I took his left hand in mine and kissed his fingertips.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," I whispered as my lips brushed against his skin. "Thank you."
I heard vibrations coming in deep within his chest. He was groaning, from extreme pain of course, but he was finally coming to. Without thinking I threw my arms around his neck.
"OWWWW!" he screamed out in pain. His breathing was picking up and I jumped back.
"Sorry, sorry." I was crying again. He didn't have enough strength to say anything else but he did smile weakly and opened his eyes. They were just as rich and beautiful as I remembered.
"I think I love you," I said after awhile. Zayn sighed deeply and his eyes closed, a grin spreading across his face.
I heard the door creak open and I saw curly hair in the darkness of the room. My body felt hot with anger, but I ignored the figure and went on stroking Zayn's hair.
"Nicole, I'm so sorry," Harry said. I got up and tried to stay calm. I fisted Harry's T-Shirt and said what I had been wanting to say loud and clear.
"Stay away from me. Don't tell me you love me. Don't talk to me. Don't think about me. And know that I won't be thinking of you." He gulped and seemed slightly afraid. It wasn't like I was going to shoot him but I kept talking.
"Know that this is your fault. Know that Zayn wasn't ever the problem. You're the one who's trouble."
Then I pulled him in real close.
"And most of all, know that I hate you Harry Styles," I hissed. Within seconds, Harry was down the hall and disappearing around the corner.
When I got back to Zayn, he must've sensed me because he smiled again. I was so happy to see him, living and breathing. The feeling was indescribable.
Zayn scooted over on the bed, making just enough room for me. I crawled in next to him, trying my hardest not to touch any of his injuries. My head was on his shoulder and he exhaled.
"Love," he whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.
I kissed his bruised cheek and he winced.
"Sorry." He shook his head and lifted him slightly off the bed to kiss my forehead.
"Unff," he groaned from the pain.
"Shh, lay down," I demanded soothingly.
And we drifted off together in each other's arms.
