Stay With Me (Niall Horan Fan Fiction)

Chapter 3: Fixing Wounds

*Violet’s POV*

            I sat up and looked around, where was I now? And why did I keep waking up in strange places? Oh right, my uncle sent me away to England with his friend. I groaned and climbed out of bed to find the bathroom. I waddled in and plopped down on the closed toilet. I buried my hands in my face and sighed loudly.

“Violet?” I heard a voice call to me.

“Yeah,” I groaned.

“Where are you?” it was Paul.

“Bathroom,” I grumbled loud enough for him to hear.

            I rose from my perch and went to the sink to splash water on my face. I looked up at the mirror, instantly regretting it. My short spiky hair was messier than usual. My eyes looked red and puffy and I just looked so gross. I seriously wanted to scream. I felt a sting at my arms and I hissed in pain.

“Shit!” I muttered, slowly raising my sleeve to reveal my mutilated arm. It was all stitched up, and some of the cuts appeared to be getting infected.

“You okay in there?” Paul asked from outside the door.

“No,” I said, my voice trembling.

            The door flew open and there stood Paul looking ready to fight anything off. As soon as he caught sight of my arms, I swear I heard his heart crack. He gently grabbed my arm and inspected the cuts.

“These are infected,” he pointed at some of the deeper ones, “I think I may have to take you to see a doctor.”

            I started to shake my head in protest, but he scooped me up and walked out of the small space. He set me down once we were at the door of the hotel room and handed me a light coat. I grudgingly slipped it on and followed him back downstairs.

“Where are your boys?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the throbbing I felt on my arms.

“At an interview, so we have some time to spare” he filled me in.

“Do they....do they know my entire story?” I asked him hesitantly.

            We were outside now and he had opened the door to the same black car from earlier. He stopped and looked up at the sky.

“They know what they need to know, the rest is up for you to tell,” he told me.

            I nodded, satisfied with that answer and climbed in. He slid in next to me and we sat in silence the whole drive to where ever the doctor was. Once there he led me straight in to a small office looking place. It looked too spiffy to be a regular doctor’s office.

“Paul, nice to see you man” an older looking man appeared at the door.

            He walked over to Paul they exchanged greetings. I just sat there staring blankly at a picture of a fish on the wall.

“Come on, he is all ready for us,” Paul tapped my shoulder.

            I robotically got up and followed them back to the examination room. I hopped up onto the table and sat there ready to get picked on, literally.

“Hello Violet, I am Doctor Pullen and Paul here tells me your stitches got infected. Why don’t we take a look at them so I can possibly re-do them?” the man said, a kind smile covering his face.

            I hesitantly slid up my sleeves and presented him with my wounds. For a split second pain flashed in his eyes; but he quickly composed his face and examined the cuts.