Stole My Heart (A Ziall and Larry Love Story)

Chapter 26 - Disgusting...Or Loveable?

*Author's Note*

Hey, sorry I'm a day late. I tried my best to get it finished yesterday but I had so much going on. If this story reaches 3000 reads, which it looks like it will soon, I think I might cry. Thank you all for reading and I forgive you all for being silent readers. At least people vote and follow me and each new follower means a lot to me so, thank you. And this chapter is dedicated to @DirectionersUnited93 because she is amazing. Thank you so much for your support on both this site and fanfiction.net. Sorry it's a bit late but happy birthday for yesterday Jessica, hope you can forgive me :) Also, if anyone wants to make a new cover for this story then please please do. Read, Vote, Comment, Follow and Enjoy! - Scott xx

*Harry's POV*

“You have to come with me now. Both of you. Zayn's in hospital!”

I stared at Helen in shock as she came rushing into the ward shouting those words. It took me a moment for the message to sink in before I sprang to the door pushing Helen aside in the process.

“Where is he?”

“The doctors were taking him to surgery but that's all I know. I heard one of them mention something about stitches.”

“STITCHES! WHY?”

“Harry, calm down, I'm sure he'll be okay. Helen just said she doesn't know any details.”

“Shut up Eleanor. What the fuck do you know?”

“HARRY!”

“Oh piss off Helen. I'm going to find Zayn.”

“We'll come with you.”

“No you won't. You can stay here and watch Louis. Besides, don't you have a job you should be doing?”

With that I stormed off looking for my ill friend who's apparently in surgery, leaving behind my unconscious best friend and two bewildered women, wondering where the fuck my other friends are. I can't cope with all of this stress at the moment. I still have to deal with the Louis situation, I don't know how to handle Helen's lies about Eleanor's memory loss and I'm completely guilt-ridden over having sex with a prostitute and wondering why the fuck I do feel guilty about that. It's not like she's the only whore I've ever fucked. Anyway, I didn't even fuck her. This is all so messed up and confusing.

I reach a reception area and I'm just about to ask where Zayn is when I spot him being wheeled towards me.

“Zayn!”

I sprint over and the doctor who he's with stops me.

“Are you Mr. Harry Styles?”

“Yes”

“Good, I'm taking your friend to a private ward just down this corridor you can follow us. Luckily your friend hasn't lost too much blood as the cuts didn't sever any major arteries. At the moment we have simply bandaged him up and will be monitoring him very closely as he made stitches but for now he should be fine.”

“What happened to him?”

“Well, Mr. Styles, that is something I would advise you speak to him about. You see, Zayn has suffered from a number of wounds on his stomach from a sharp object such as a knife. Now, the injuries sustained are, shall we say, arranged in a way which implies malicious intent on behalf of a third party.”

“You mean someone cut him with a knife!”

“Well, no, not exactly. That is a possibility but it is not likely at all. What I have taken into account is that the cuts are in a certain manner which suggest that Zayn allowed the object to cut him. Also, there a number of scars on his wrists which appear to have been made by the same weapon. Given that Zayn called the ambulance himself from his bedroom and when the paramedics arrived he was lying shirtless in a pool of blood near his bed with a trail of blood leading to a razor blade on his bathroom floor, well, I'm sure you can fit the pieces together yourself.”