give me love • styles

t w e n t y s i x

LIKE i dunno, read this and vote or something. i know i suck.

20th August.

Day One.

it had been a week since the operation, and allison was still sitting criss-crossed in the armchair that was placed by the hospital bed. harry was in bed, still breathing but barely functioning.

the operation had went well, according to the doctor and other helpers. allison didn't really concentrate on the number of doctors who had to join the surgery, she was just concerned about how harry was doing.

she had been living in the hospital and the library, and she didn't really care about anything else. harry was still beautiful as ever, and she knew he would wake up soon.

he was eating through the tubes, and his heart was functioning well. his lungs are brand new, and that was enough for allison to feel relieved for his part.

it was just when that made her worry. she missed his voice, and his smile.

she missed him badly.

the doctor had told her that he would have to wake up soon, and he will. but he hasn't been waking up since, and that aggravated allison.

but that didn't make allison give up. she was still there, waiting for his green eyes to show themselves. and his pink lips to wet again, and his raspy voice to come back. she was still waiting.

the trips to his room weren't a waste of her time, because she always brought along some books that she knew harry would've liked. so she read them to him.

it never made her tired, not when it was for harry.

sometimes, she'd put on some radio for him to listen to those mainstream songs that they enjoyed, or even those that he despised so much.

allison hoped that he would wake up when she was at the library or something, and that made her inform the stiff nurse behind the counter to call her whenever he woke up.

but the call never came.

it had been one week, seven days and 168 hours since she last watched him reacting to life. now harry was just like an alive corpse, and allison disliked thinking so.

she played with his hands, with his hair. she played with his nostrils and lips, and even peeked his eyelids open. but harry wasn't even responding. no, no flinch at all. nada.

allison gripped his hand, and she squeezed it for the billionth time this week, and kissed it again and again. his hands were warm, and that was the only positive thing that allison held onto.

his face was still pale, and his lips were so dry. his hands were the only thing that convinced allison that blood still circulated in his veins.

crying was never a solution, and allison had never surrendered since the operation. but waiting for 168 hours made her feel so exhausted. that was why she found herself leaking the first tear.

she wanted to stay strong for him, she really did. she just felt so fragile without him, and it made her feel some kind of relief. crying made her feel like she wasn't that numb, it made her feel a release after some time.

she was scared. she had sacrificed her life for him, so she hoped he wouldn't bail on her. she wasn't expecting him to. that was the harry she knew.

after what she did for him, she needed him back. she threw her life on the line for him, so she wanted him to come back again.

god dammit, allison couldn't breathe. she was sobbing against his hand, even if she knew she shouldn't.

but it was too late to turn back, and she didn't have anyone other than him.