Love Thy Neighbour *editing*

"I love YOU, y'Irish Shagging Idiot!"

Fear. Desperation. Anger.

That was the order they came. I was terrified as mum drove me to the hospital, that he was dead. Scared that I was never going to be able to have a conversation with him again. Petrified that I was going to have to raise a baby – his baby – on my own. How would I cope? Seeing the face of a child every day, knowing that he would never meet his dad?

Fear became desperation as I walked into the hospital. My hair was sticking up in odd directions from running my fingers through it so much. The once carefully applied make up, trailed down my face as my tears dried. I swallowed, giving Niall’s name to the receptionist and waiting hesitantly as she tapped it into the system. My mouth felt dry and sore, the salt of my tears beginning to dry into my skin, making face itch horribly.

“He’s in the Blue Ward, Bed Nine,” she said lazily. I considered her. Did she talk to all visitors like that? What about ones who had just lost a relative?

Mum dragged me away, evidently sensing that I was about to say something I’d regret. She led me through the hospital, navigating like she had done this a thousand times before. By the time we reached they door of the Blue Ward, I was shaking, terrified of what I was about to find there.

“Evie, he’ll be fine,” mum breathed, giving me a small shove. Gritting my teeth and clenching my clammy fists, I walked into the ward, scanning the room for Niall.

Bed Nine was at the end of the row, situated by the windows, and the furthest away from the Nurses’ Station.

He was sitting upright at least; that was something. Slowly, I made my way down the aisle, my thin shoes tapping on the linoleum flooring. His head didn’t turn; he just continued to look out of the window.

The breath caught in my chest as I took in his injuries. His leg was in plaster cast up to his thigh, supported upwards. I could see a bruise starting to form on the small part of his jaw I could currently see.

“Niall,” I murmured quietly, staring at him.

“So I matter now, do I?” he demanded, his voice harsh. I blinked rapidly, trying to work out what he meant. Had he hit his head or something? Forgotten who I was?

“Niall,” I said again, “Niall, look at me.”

At first, it seemed as though I was just going to have to talk to the back of his head. Then, slowly, he turned to face me, his eyes vacant and blank. His jaw was set, like he was trying not to hit something. Well, he wouldn’t have been able to anyway; he was all strapped up.

“What’re you doing here?” he snapped, glowering up at me.

Shock radiated through me as I stared at him, trying to work out what the hell was wrong with him. It scared me slightly, the way he was looking back at me so angrily.

“Right,” I sighed, sitting down beside the bed. “Why’re we suddenly hating on the sleep deprived pregnant person?”

Niall snorted bitterly.

“I saw you with him,” he growled, reaching over to the small cabinet beside him. There, my phone lay, slightly scratched up. He threw it at me, watching my face for some sort of reaction.

So what? He had my phone. He had my phone when I needed it. But knowing Niall he would have come back to give it to me…

Shite.

“N-Niall, I didn’t think there was any point in telling you!” I exclaimed. “We were just speaking.”

“Pull the other one, Evie,” he retorted, his cheeks flushing furiously “You have at least had the decency t’tell me you wanted back with him.”