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28 Undertone

this is what we've always been.

Niall had just finished puking up the yogurt he promised the nurses he'd eat. It all came up in spurts mixed with water that tasted a lot like acid.

Harry was sitting against the wall, still not having said a word to him. Niall's phone was a mess of incessant rings; countless amounts of incoming calls that went unanswered. They both knew the people calling were the people he worked with. Knew they weren't worried that Niall was lying in a hospital bed not being able to hold down food or recall most of the previous day. Fuck that, this kid was their income and they were worried he wouldn't be bringing them anymore money.

"Put the phone on silent," Harry was rubbing at his temples and Niall could tell he was trying to keep his agitation at bay.

Meanwhile, he himself was trying to ignore the pain that came with trying to remember things that weren't phone numbers with no names or eye colors that he couldn't put a face to. Harry had his dark shades over his own eyes. Something about trying to hide the color of them because of how unattractive they were getting.

Neither of them had spoken much since Harry walked in but Niall was almost grateful for his patience. He didn't like that the nurses kept trying to record his every thought, so just having his friend in the room was a relief.

When Harry licked his lips and huffed aloud, Niall was reminded of the first time he found out Harry was blind; a memory that seemed so fresh but so far away. He remembered how upset his friend was when he was nearly forced to confess, and how that was the first and last time he felt compelled to split dinner bills equally between the both of them.

He remembered sitting at a table in some restaurant on First Avenue and sliding the bill over to Harry who didn't make a move to reach for it.

Harry was sitting at the table with the bill in his hand, eyes facing Niall instead of the black envelope he was suppose to be busying himself with by filling. "How much am I paying?"

After a moment of just sitting there, Niall's slightly amused voice, heavily accented, spoke up. "How about you read the number next to Guest Two and find out?"

Harry bit down on his tongue and then closed his eyes. "I can't read," he said, voice slow and so unlike him.

And Niall looked him right in the eye with a sense of confusion, hands folded on the table beside his glass of water."You told me you read that book. What the hell was it— To Kill A Mockingbird. You told me you read it when you were seventeen."

"That was so long ago," Harry was beginning to sound defensive, but the undertone of his voice let Niall know he was losing grip on the situation.

"If you don't want to pay, then-"

"I can't read the number because I'm blind," he mumbled quietly, cheeks and neck heating up with a reddish tint. "Just tell me how much I need to pay."

Niall smiled a little with a small shrug, not understanding why he had said it like he was embarrassed. Like being blind was something that could break relationships. Maybe even tint respect. "Is that why you wear sunglasses everywhere?"

When Niall reopened his eyes that he hadn't realized we're closed, Harry was beside him with both of his hands pressed on his back.

He pushed him away with as much strength as he could muster, sheepishly tugging away from the hands and pretending the pain in his head wasn't that bad. It felt like a second heartbeat up there and there was this subtle sound of water rushing inside of his ears. "What are you doing?" He breathed out, catching his breath and turning to look at Harry whose glasses had slipped a little down the bridge of his nose.

"You were scaring me," he answered, taking a step back.

Niall's attention had already drifted to the tinted glasses. He wasn't very focused on what Harry was saying more as what he was wearing. He didn't like looking at his doctor's eyes or his nurses' eyes, but he wanted to see Harry's. Thought maybe the past month would fall into focus if he could recognize more of it.

He didn't suffer a lot from memory loss, his doctor said, (thank goodness because he didn't know how he would have coped with that) but some things were a bit hazy and didn't make sense.

"Can you take the shades off?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but the phone on the bed let out a marimba ringtone and caught them both off guard. "Put it on silent." He was avoiding the question. Changing the subject and using the phone call as an excuse.

Niall tilted his head and then winced when his head reminded him of how much pain it was going through. Still, he reached over to silence the call. "Take the glasses off."

Harry shook his head slowly in discontent. "I need to get going." It was a lie that Niall didn't call him out on. "I'll tell your doctor you don't like the yogurt. I saw the guy next door eating macaroni and cheese so I'll...figure something out, I guess."

"Harry-"

"Also, he said you were refusing to take your medication and you won't get better unless you do. The headaches will get worse."

"The pills they keep giving me make me feel heavy."

Harry paused at the door with a twisted face. "Take the pills."

And Niall sighed just loud enough for only them to hear. "Bye."

(A/n: Very short chapter, but I have finals for the next two weeks and then state testing a week afterward so I've been trying to study and cram as much information as I can. I hope you all have a great day/night! Stay safe and please excuse any errors I've overlooked)