Freshman Years

Chapter twenty one

_Harrys point of view_

I slept for less than two hours near the end of the night. The uncomfortable hospital bed was hard to relax on and fall asleep on. But I didn't care about myself and how awful I slept, I cared about Kendall and I kept an eye out for her if she needed anything or me.

I heard the murmurs of Ken and another doctors voice in the background. I squeezed my eyes as I saw her pale body laid on the floor at the club last night.

I immediately sat up off the bed and gasped for air. Both ken and the doctor frowned as I began to sweat and tremble.

"Are you okay?" Ken asked. She asked me if I was okay, me. She puts everyone before herself, but I was sure to treat her like a god damn queen when we get out of this hell hole.

"Er, yeah yeah, just going to nip to the toilet" I said reassuring her. She nodded her head and focused on the doctor again and he regained all her attention on him.

I slipped on my shoes and turned the pastel green curtain slightly and stepped out. I was faced with many other patients. They all looked like they were on the verge of death. I saw one couple, the old women laying on the hospital bed, test tubes in and out her nose, cannulas in her hand. The old man holding her other hand tightly and crying into them and sobbing to her.
"I love you Catherine, I love you" he spoke gently. They both cried.

I was still staring at them as I walked to the doors, it made my heart skip a beat as I saw how broken he was, looking at his true love in a hospital bed. He reminded me of myself.

I got to the toilets and looked in the stained mirrors. I raised an eyebrow as I looked at my reflection. My skinny jeans squeezing my legs, my shirt feeling a bit wet because of all the sweating, and my hair looking like a jungle. My eyes sore and red, bags forming under them. I yawned and carried myself to the cubicle.

I sat down. My legs trembling uncontrollably, my elbows on top of my lap and my head resting in my hands. I glided one hand through my hair, trying to stop myself from crying, but it didn't work. I cried just thinking about someone hurting my Ken.

I found it hard to breathe, the walls of the cubicle closing in on me. I felt isolated and claustrophobic, I fell on my knees and went on all fours. I inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to catch my breath. I sat up and began to cough into my arms. My lungs felt as if they were shutting down on me and set-a light.

I ignored these strange symptoms and ran to the doors withholding patients and my Ken. I dried my hands on the back of my jeans as I walked over to the green curtains again, entered inside and shut them, I turned around and saw Ken sat on the edge of the bed with spare warn out, skinny denim jeans on, her navy blue Ralph Lauren jacket zipped up and her hair long brown hair in front of her tiny shoulders.

She had her black heels and dress on her bed and long with her clutch bag. Her phone in her hands, her head facing downwards. She sat quietly on her own, thinking to herself, probably about the hectic night, I quickly interfered her thoughts as I sat down on the bed beside her and gazed upon her angelic face. I had fell in love with her, completely.

She looked up, into my eyes as the bed made an awkward sound as I sat down. She gave me a fake smile and then looked down. Her smile fading away slowly. She bit down on her soft lips which I longed for, lines beginning to form on her forehead as she refrained herself from crying.

I quickly wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her tight. I rested my head on her shoulders and breathed heavily into them. A single tear escaped her large brown eyes and splattered on top of my shoes.

I held on to her tighter, I hated to see her cry or upset, damn, I hated to see her stressed out and quite. Only, and only she made me feel like this. I'd do absolutely anything for her.