Louis POV:
By the time Harry was taken to the hospital, it was too late. He was already gone and there was nothing the doctors could do, they said. But I knew he had been gone for a long time already. Maybe that's what made it that little bit easier for me. I shouldn't lie. It was the worst moment of my life when I saw Niall breakdown in front of us and run to Liam. I dreaded to think of why he had. But I didn't have to wonder for long. I rounded the doorway of the small room Harry had, and there he lay. The boy I had once fallen inlove with. The boy with the long brown curl. The boy who had eyes that made emeralds jealous. My hazzbear. Lying. Lifeless. Later on, when I read Harry's letter to me, he told me in it he hoped I'd never have to go through what he did. When he wrote that I guess he forgot something. The fact that I was still inlove with him. He told me not to blame myself. But God, even he knew I would. Because who else was to blame? We all agreed, without having to say anything, that we could never be a band without Harry. He was the light and joy of the band, with his crappy jokes and his smile that I was sure could end wars and cure cancer. God, he was sure gorgeous. I don't know why Harry worried I would forget him. There was no way in this universe he could be forgotten.
