Bad Blood (h.s.)

Part Twenty-Four

Part Twenty-Four

My eyes partially open, the smell of disinfecting alcohol filling my nose. I look around and see no one in the room. My hands lay limp at my sides; the memory of Harry's still playing in the back of my mind. I move slightly, my head pounding as I do so, pressing the nurses' button. In a few seconds, the doctor comes in and smiles.

"Well I see you're awake." I nod, not finding my voice through the pain. He walks over to me and grabs the arm compressor.

"You might feel a slight pinch," he warms, wrapping it around my upper arm. My fingers gently grab the hospital blanket as he takes my blood pressure, my muscles sore from the IV and meds.

"I-It hu-hurts," I stutter, my head nauseous as I speak. He nods and grabs a pill off the tray. I take it and grab the water from his extended hand, swallowing the pain killer.

"You have 10 stitches internally and 20 on the outside. You were hit by some mental and it left a large incision on the base of your head, just by the hairline."

I nod once again and rest my head against the pillows gently. He writes something on the clipboard and I grab his wrist, his focus turning to me. I barely whisper Harry to him and he nods.

"I will call him for you. It's almost 4 in the morning so give him time."

My eyes close and he walks away. The pain starts to fade and I feel the back of my head. All my hair seems to still be there but the skin is tight. I move to sit up and reach for the water on the table, my throat dry from the lack of hydration and the medicine. The excessive pounding of my head soon is extinguished as the cold liquid runs down my throat, allowing me to rest.

A few minutes pass and I close my eyes, resting my head as I attempt to relax, but my eyes open and dart to the door, recognizing the curly haired boy's voice.

"Yes, Mr. Styles, we did everything."

"And she's fine? Nothing's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

The door to my room opens and a stressed, tired and slightly bruised Harry walks to me. He wraps his arms around my waist and I feel his strong biceps against my hands. His fingers slightly brush my hair, attempting not to hurt me.

"I'm so sorry it happened to you Beth," he whispers in my ear, his lips brushing against the lobe.

"I-It's ok-kay," I try, my throat scratchy. I bury my head in his neck and he sits next to me on the bed, but his body remains facing me, still holding me tightly to him.

"They are both in prison for the next few months so you're safe."

I nod and wrap my hand loosely in his hair, every gesture straining against my strength. His hand continuously rubs up and down my back, soothing me in knowing everything's okay. He moves to lay me down on the bed and I look up at him, his eyes completely soft and green, and my heart fluttering when they meet mine. He leans down and kisses my forehead, his hands grabbing hold of my cheeks gently.

"How do you feel?" he whispers, sitting but keeping his hands on my cheeks.

I shrug my shoulders and look at him, his eyes looking at me intently. His fingers brush my curly hair back and I grab his wrists. He looks down at me and I lean up, pressing my lips on his. He slightly kisses my back but more or less remains innocent through the whole thing, trying not to hurt me.

"I missed that so much," he whispers, my lips curving into a smile and watching his eyes look into mine.

"I had an excuse to kiss you every five minutes but I had to leave because of visiting hours. Trust me, they practically dragged me out of here."