literally I always do ashton but I feel like it's the best way to show things you know
aND LOOK ITS KITTEN IN THE HOSPITAL LMFAO
ok well here we go aGAIN don't hate me
I put the side of the bed down, putting my arm under Catherine's legs and the other behind her back, gently lifting her into my arms.
Her limbs hang from my arms, like she's sleeping.
"You know," I say, "Lauren came downstairs today in a flannel and black jeans and told me she wanted to be like you."
I turn on the water as I put her on the edge of tub, my arm still holding onto her back as I take off her blood filled flannel, before her jeans.
"She called you her role model," I try to talk as I take off her underwear, in the case she can hear and realize what I'm doing, the last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable, "She really misses you. Maybe one day I'll take you back there and you can have dinner with us. My mum misses you too, and Harry."
She continues to just stare straight forward, her usually beautiful light brown eyes dull and vacant.
"I'm going to put you in now," I say softly, before softly picking up her body and putting her inside the tub.
The water continues to run as it hits her stomach, covering her legs.
Her hands reach out, grabbing the sides of the tub and gripping onto it tightly.
I submerge the cloth in the water and putting soap on it, before bringing it up to her shoulder.
I slowly clean her shoulders, not really knowing what to say right now. I'm literally giving her a bath right now. Something that I know if she was herself, she would be 100% against, probably saying something like I don't need to take care of her because she's an independent woman who can take care of herself.
You know, feminism.
I smile slightly at the thought, before I hear her mumble something.
"What?" I say, going around the tub and crouching in front of her. I get in her line of view, but even though she's looking at me, it's like she's looking right through me, like I'm not even there.
"What did you say, baby?" I ask again, pushing her hair out of her face, "Say it again."
"I'm only 20," she repeats, her eyes still glassy and vacant, "I'm only 20."
I involuntarily furrow my eyebrows before bringing the cloth to her face and remove the blood splatter.
She must of taken off her makeup, because she's not wearing any.
"It's going to be okay," I whisper, continuing to clean her face, "I love you so much, Catherine."
*
"When is she going to wake up from this?" I hear Grace ask someone outside the door. I continue to run my hand over her arm in a soothing way.
"That's impossible to know," the voice sighs, "It could be hours or it could be weeks?"
Weeks?
I don't think I'd be able to go weeks without hearing her voice, seeing that gleam in her eye, or hearing that laugh.
I rest me chin on her bed, looking up at her as she lies in her bed, looking straight up.
"How will she eat or drink?" Grace asks.
"She's set up to a feeding tube," the voice says, and I look at the wires and tubes that are connected to her.
It grows silent after I hear Grace mumble something. I sigh, picking my head up and continuing to stroke Catherine's arm. I don't know, maybe she can feel it and it'll make her feel comfortable. She always liked it when I did it.
I hear shuffling entering the room, and turn my head to see Calum walking in.
He walks past Cat's bed and peaks behind the curtain to look at Asher, before sighing and coming back, sitting on the other side of Cat.
"He's still sleeping," he says quietly, looking over to Cat.
I stay silent, because honestly I envied him when I came back. He had Cat. He was there for her when I wasn't. He was in New York, sleeping with her and shit.
When I walked in that day and say him standing there shirtless, I knew who he was there for. I almost flat out punched him there.
But then when I saw her standing there in his shirt, God, it's like my whole world fucking stopped.
She looked so care free and happy, she was literally glowing. Her hair was tousled perfectly, her skin was dewey even though she had makeup on. Everything about her was perfect, even if she was in another mans shirt.
But then he got her out. He carried her out of there.
I would of killed to be him. I would of done anything to be able to go in that mall and been the one to carry her outside, away from all the bad guys.
She talked to him, she was talking to him and now it's like she isn't even here.
I'm jealous. I'm so fucking jealous of Calum Hood.
I turn around when I hear someone stumbling into the room, narrowing my eyes when I see its Moran.
"Wait," he looks around, "What? Where's my brother?"
"He's over there," Calum points to behind the curtain, but Moran walks closer to Cat's bed and I almost tell him to back the fuck up, but I control myself.
"Cat?" He questions, "She was in the shooting too? Is she okay?"
"She's in a state of shock," Calum says, looking over to me as if to ask if I want to explain it, but I just hold onto her hand with one hand and stroke her hair with another, so Calum continues, "We don't know when she'll wake out of it."
"Damn," he shakes his head, before walking to the other side of the curtain.
I sigh deeply, "Come on Catherine, please wake up," I whisper, my hand brushing her cheek.
Please, please just wake up.
