Fıx you {H.S.}

27| You're Still Perfect

Final chapter!

Harry's POV

They say everything happens for a reason, and some reasons might be horrible but they're still reasons. They say that everything that happens in your lifetime is planned in some way or the other, things wouldn't have happened if you hadn't have done certain things and met certain people. It's hard trying to write your own future, in fact it's basically impossible as you can't ever tell what's going to happen in the future exactly. You have ideas, plans, hopes, but most of the time they don't work out. And something you never expected can happen.

But everything happens for a reason.

I reached the hospital at exactly four in the afternoon, the day being Thursday the 6th of June. It had felt like ages since Heather crashed to the ground, complaining of horrible pains in her stomach. I was worried, her health always coming back to me. And then an ambulance was called by some shopper and within seconds, Heather was rushed into the ambulance.

I wanted to ride with her, but everything had gone so fast and I couldn't hop on. I made an excuse I needed to be somewhere and instantly called Heather's mum before my own and then just collapsing down on the curb for a while. But now, as I ran down the open and bright hallways of the hospital, time seemed to slow down entirely.

Then she came into view, and I screamed her name. I heard her scream mine back but then she turned the corner. I ran faster, my heart thumping and my head pounding. And suddenly I was racing towards her, my feet hitting the squeaky tiled floor with each hurried leap I took.

"Heather!" I yelled as the doctors and nurses sprinted alongside Heather's bed, taking her to some unknown place.

I reached her side, my body losing it's energy. I ignored it and kept running to keep with her pace and after pushing through the doctors, I managed to run along beside her, grabbing her hand and holding it tightly. "Heather, it's okay. I'm here."

She looked up at me as a doctor tried to push me away, telling me I couldn't be where I was. I ignored him and looked deep into Heather's crystal blue eyes, looking for any sign of emotion. She looked scared, and I hated that look on her. "Harry?" She croaked, as if she couldn't raise her voice level anymore. "Harry! What's happening, Harry?"

"I don't know, babe. I don't know. But it'll be okay, I promise you." I breathed heavily, my hand getting sweaty in Heather's.

I saw a look of belief flash in her eyes and she just nodded.

"I love you." I told her. "I love you and I'm never leaving you. Everything will be okay. You'll be okay, Heather."

Thursday the 6th of June. That was the day I first saw Heather.

I remember seeing her sitting cross-legged on the grass, in a world completely of her own. She was hunched over slightly, her hands moving around in front of her as she fixated on something important. Then she held up her hands to her head and I saw what was in her hands, a perfectly formed daisy chain. I watched as she repeatedly tried wrapping it around her head and fastening it but in the end she gave up, her shoulders sagging as she let out a small sigh.

I had been shocked to see her at first. I had gone to check out the garden as we arrived at our new house, as in my opinion every house had to have a nice garden, and I just stopped and simply stared at her, drinking in every detail about her. I tried not to disturb her as I took her in. Her long dark hair that tumbled down her back in light waves, her small frame hidden beneath a baggy white jumper and her manicured hands with chipped black nail polish. And when she turned around, I noticed how beautiful she was. She wasn't beautiful in a normal way, but in her own way. She was like a rainy day, only a few people realised how beautiful and natural and angelic they were. And I knew from that moment on, however cheesy it sounded, that maybe soul mates were real, and maybe I had found mine. June 6th on a Thursday, the day Heather and I began. Everything else in between didnt seem to matter but just that date.