Paperboy. (h.s. au)

27.

With this day comes my newest challenge: walking.

I've only been up once a day, and they've wheeled me to the bathroom where I needed help using it. While I like being transported by wheels up and down my hallway, it's time to use my one working leg and crutches to help my broken one.

I sit up in bed, and I no longer get a head rush when I do so. My fancy new crutches rest on my bed for me to use. Two nurses stand in the opening of the doorway watching my every move in case something goes wrong. And well, how could it possibly go wrong? One extremely uncoordinated person, three and a half days of bed rest, a broken leg, and two sticks to walk on...this should be interesting.

I've never used crutches in context. Sure, I've tried out my friends' when they actually needed them, but whenever I'd get off balance, I could just use my two functioning legs to help me. My mom stands next to my crutches, smiling and awaiting my departure. I'm supposed to leave today, and I can't very well do that without crutches. Here goes nothing.

Slowly, I slide my working leg over the side of my bed, leaving my broken one laying where it has been. I wince, anticipating pain, and carefully drag it across the hospital bed. My left wrist and hand is in a little cast too, so this is kind of really difficult.

They've weaned me off mostly all of my painkillers, and I've been reduced to the weakest ones. So they're basically ineffective. There's a dull pain as I move it to the ground to join my other leg, but it's not unbearable. I do get pretty tired, though. I wonder how much weight I've gained from sitting here all this time. Well I probably have actually lost a few pounds considering I've had one meal- most unwillingly- since I've gotten here. I haven't had much appetite for food.

I bring my butt off of the bed and put my weight in my functioning leg and it immediately feels like it fell asleep. I wobble and fall onto my side table, grabbing onto it for support.

"Ugh," I exasperate. This is annoying. I just want to go home.

"It's alright, Robin. Take your time," A nurse tells me politely. Oh I will.

I'm only forgiving myself for that because of how badly my leg was broken. They told me it was bent in a completely different direction than it should have, and the bone was almost not attached to my leg, so I'm cutting myself some slack here.

I hoist my self up and grab one crutch for balance. I use it as a cane. It wobbles as I put all of my weight onto it. My mother slides the other one into my grip and I position them under my shoulders. I hear light clapping from the hallway.

I look up and my eyes meet Harry's. He smiles and shrugs his shoulders.I feel embarrassed all of a sudden, but I'm always happy to see him.

Things have been slightly awkward since Harry kissed me, which was by far the best moment of my life. I don't think I'll ever forget how that felt, or how I feel it every time I look at- or think of- Harry. It was magic, I swear.

We haven't kissed again since, considering it was a day and a half ago, and I think that's a good thing because I needed some time to think about that. A lot of time. And after all that time, I decided that I definitely wouldn't be opposed if it maybe happened again.

So it's been kind of awkward. It's only kind of awkward because we are still really good friends. We just smile a lot more at each other and Harry's texts include a lot more smiley faces and kisses.

In not entirely sure what's happening, but I am sure that I never want it to end.

Harry leans against the door frame and crosses him arms, his biceps looking splendid in his black shirt, and his dimples looking even better as he suppresses a grin.