complications » h.s. [COMPLETED]

twenty eight

Lydia

I heard all of it.

I heard what Harry said about me. How I made his day better. How he missed me. Every inch of me fought to wake up, I was still to weak.

I was technically awake. It was my body that wasn't.

My mind was still comprehending what Harry said to me. I didn't know how to respond. It would be a lie to say that I didn't have feelings for him. The past few weeks with him had affected me someway. I always tried to push my feelings away, but now that I knew what he was feeling, maybe it was time to actually reconsider it despite Paul's rule. Maybe I could find my happiness in this hell and maybe it could be Harry.

But then again there was one thing stopping me. The lie I was living.

I hated this, every little piece of it. I hated Sky for getting me in this awful situation. I hated Zayn for making me do all of these horrendous things. I hated that such incredible guys like Niall, Louis, Liam and Harry did what they did. I hated that I had to meet them under these circumstances. I hated that I was involved in this. But most of all, I hated that I might be falling in love with Harry during these times.

This was something I had to deal with when I woke up.

**

My heavy eyelids slowly opened to an unfamiliar place. It was bright and smelled clean like a hospital.

It was when I heard the noises from various machines next to me and noticed the strings attached to me and it hit me that I actually was here. I was finally awake.

The memories flooded back. How it started when I dropped off Peter, me being kidnapped by Madeline and Cooper because I was too stubborn to stay home, the guys saving me after being held as a bait for the shipment and then ended up being shot when running after Madeline.

I put my hand over my bullet wound, furrowing my brows as I wondered why there was stitches on the side of my body. Trying to lift myself up, I groaned slightly that it was to no luck with the lack of energy.

Harry, who I just noticed was sleeping, woke up on the chair close to my bed. "Lydia?" He spoke up with that husky morning voice of his.

When I tried to speak up, nothing came up. My throat was as dry as the Sahara desert. Instead, I coughed a little, throat feeling like sandpaper rubbed against each other.

"Oh," Harry reacted when he knew what it meant. He grabbed his water bottle from the table behind him and helped me to drink it.

I cleared my throat. "Thank you."

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly.

"I have been better," I tried to make a joke.

He cracked a smile. "Are you sure? You have been knocked out for many days now."

"Wait, what day is it?" I asked, struggling to sit up.

Harry fiddled with the remote beside my bed and pushed a button that raised the bed up. "Wednesday, why?"

"Date?"

"May 18th."

"Oh," I sighed, looking down at my hands with wires connected to them.