Vigilante | H.S.

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August 1st

Diana De Angelais

I spent the next few weeks glued to Harrys side

He spent a few days in the hospital, just trying to recover until he was well enough to go home. I stayed with him as much as I could, from the moment visiting hours began until I was practically forced out of the building. The hospital staff would tell me to leave and I wouldn't. I just wanted to be with him all the time because I still couldn't get over the feeling that I had lost him. Harry would softly tell me that I had to go home, I had to try and get some sleep, he would remind me that he was still going to be there in the morning when I went the next day. But it typically ended in Zayn practically carrying me out of the building.

We would just lay in his hospital bed together and we binge watched Meryl Streep movies together. I hardly paid attention to them though. His head would rest on my chest and he'd cuddle up to me, and I would run my fingers through his hair, watching him instead of the laptop that would rest on my lap.

The stitches had been taken out of his face and his neck and I knew there was going to be a dark scar on his face forever now. He had to get surgery to get shards of glass removed from his face and his neck. Someone had attacked him with a piece of broken glass. It looked so painful, and it still hurt to look at, I didn't know how he was managing to act okay about all of this.

There were dark bruises all over his chest from where he had been shot. The bullet proof vest Liam had given Harry saved his life, and I would forever be in dept to Liam for that.

When he finally got to come home after six days in the hospital, I was clingy with him, probably a bit too clingy. But after thinking he had actually died and had been taken from me forever, I wanted to spend as much time with him, like every day was our last.

The weeks only consisted of us laying on the couch together, all day, barely speaking to each other as we watched shit tv and movies, we didn't need to speak, we just existed as the two of us, alone together. There was still this weird awkwardness between us and I hated it, like both of us had so much to say but neither of us muttered a word. But doing nothing with him was always enough. And then we would go to bed, and just sleep like we were dead. We were both so exhausted.

We were currently laying in bed. Harry had passed out asleep a while ago, but I liked being awake, listening to his slow repetitive breathing, and feeling each of those warm breaths hit the back of my neck. It was comforting just knowing he was here and he was okay.

I would also have been asleep, if it weren't for Donut.

He had been scratching at the bedroom door to get out for the past twenty minutes, and I wasn't sure what he wanted out for, but he wasn't giving up. All I could hear was his soft meows and the scratching of his claws on the door.

I would have gotten up to let him out, if it weren't for Harry.

I was completely trapped underneath him. His head was buried into my neck and his entire body was basically on top of mine. His arm was slumped over my waist and his leg hooked over mine. I was sure I had never been held just this tightly by him, I was completely restrained in his hold.

And every time I tried to move, he seemed to notice in his sleep and his arm would tighten around me even more, keeping me held close like he never wanted to let me go.

After the distance we had with each other after the argument a few weeks ago, I just wanted him back. We hadn't talked any more about our argument, and I still didn't fully forgive him for it, it still hurt me that those words could have ever come out of his mouth, I was still hurt by the way he treated me even though he apologised. But right now it wasn't fair to still be pissed at him, he didn't need me to be in a mood with him and to hold a grudge. He needed my help a lot of the time because there were things he couldn't do because of how hurt he was. And he just needed my company, he needed softness and gentle touches and hugs, and I was more than willing to be there for him even if I was still a little bit pissed. The physical touch between us was always enough to make us both forget there was anything wrong.