Angel || h.s.

Chapter 16

*** Niall's POV***

Two months.

Two months ago Angel was shot.

About two months ago Harry broke.

Two people, two months.

For the past two months I've been taking care of Harry and Angel.

All by myself. For two months.

Neither one of them has gotten out of bed willingly with me knowing.

When I say 'willingly' I mean, that they consciously, purposely got up, out of bed of their own free will. I say this because Angel keeps falling out of bed in her sleep.

I don't know if its accidental, or if she wants to escape and leave or what, but her continuous rolling onto the floor was starting to worry me.

More than I already am, that is.

Under normal circumstances it would have been quite hilarious. But, unfortunately these were not normal circumstances. Angel needs her rest. She was shot for goodness sakes! She's in enough pain as it is, and she'll just end up creating more pain for herself if she keeps it up.

As for Harry?

What he has is far more painful than any bullet wound.

And finding out that the woman he loves is in more pain then she originally was, . . .well that would not be good for him.

As worried as I was for Angel, it was nothing compared to how worried I was for Harry.

He didn't speak because I already knew exactly what he would say.

He wouldn't sleep unless his body grew so weak it had no choice but too, and all he did was lay in bed and stare at the wall all day.

He barely ate and almost never drank anything. for the first few weeks, I had to sit there and make him do it. I knew that I wouldn't have to worry about him making himself throw it back up because he wasn't in that kind of depression. He was in the kind of depression where one sat around all day doing nothing I particular.

At first, he refused to brush his hair and teeth and shower, but then I came up with an excuse to make him do it.

"What would Angel say if she could see you now?"

It worked every time.

I knew it hurt him every time I said it, but I had no choice. His health is important. It's all he has.

And its actually really ironic because she's just right down the hall.

Angel's actually doing better then Harry. Even with her always falling off the bed, she still got plenty of rest and was slowly getting better. She wasn't awake very much, which was fine by me. I don't know what would happen if she tried to engage in conversation.

I assume that she uses the bathroom when I'm asleep, which both annoys me and I'm very grateful for. It annoys me, because she really shouldn't be moving around especially when I'm not there to help her. Then at the same time I'm very grateful because it would be very awkward if I had to carry her to the bathroom.

Yeah. That would be very very awkward.

The only thing that's been keeping been keeping me sane these past few months is music. Writing it, singing it, playing it. Everything and anything musical.

I thought that maybe it would help Harry too and cheer him up. I played some of our songs on the guitar for him, as well as some of his own personal favorites, but he didn't take much notice. I brought in a book and some pens and pencils for him to write with if he changed his mind and decided that he wanted to write. I left one of my guitars in there as well but I don't think he's touched it because if he did I would've heard him play.