Love and All It Does

08

Anika's POV
The bus ride didn't take longer than I thought.

When I get there, I was greeted by the dreadful white halls of the hospital filled with quite a number of people. Some sat with hands intertwined and anguish looks painted on their faces, while some heaved out breaths of relief with smiles growing on their lips. The hospital can only either be a lugubrious or mirthful place, there's no in between.

I approach the nurse by the circular desk who was busying herself with heaps of papers, repetitively popping her pen as she does so. She stares blankly at me and cocks an eyebrow, "May I help you?"

"Yes, uh, may I ask for patient Harry Styles' room number?" I lean a bit forward.

She makes a face, vexed to be thumbing through the list of names on a paper from the pile. "What did you say the surname was?"

"Styles. He just got here. Maybe an hour or two ago." I offered.

"Ah." Her face lights up, her thumb resting on Harry's name carefully written by a familiar handwriting.  Her eyes trail through the corresponding row. "403." She looks up and repeats. "He's in Room 403."

"Thanks." The word barely came clear out of my mouth for I was already bolting through the hallway to get to the elevator. I take the elevator ride as a chance to compose myself, gather my thoughts and even out my breathing. It's the first time I'll be seeing Mrs. Styles and, or Gemma in years. I have to look pleasant.

Before I knew it, I was already standing in front of the door. I cast a brief look through the slim window and see Harry sitting himself up. He had a grin on his face and seemed hooked in a good conversation that I hesitated to knock. Anyhow, I still found myself holding a hand up and pummeling on the door. I saunter in, ignoring the fact that my hands were shaking.

Mrs. Styles sat by Harry. Her hair was in an expensive bob cut and she wasn't wearing any makeup. She aged a little, but there was still the Anne I remember. Gemma sat across him on the couch, her lavender hair cut short by her shoulder. She still wore liners under her eyes. It used to make her look pathetic before, as Harry would say, but now it made her look so matured.

They both appeared stunned as they saw me standing at the door. Then, quickly, Anne rose to her feet. "Who is this beautiful girl?" She smiles warmly, holding my arms and casting a look on Harry. His face had a lack of friendliness in it, I notice.

I forced a laugh. What?

"She's a friend from school." Harry mutters, pursing his lips and looking away.

Anne gradually turns to study my face. Her face falters and recognition flashes through her eyes. "What is your name, dear?" Her voice was hesitant. Gemma was staring at me.

"Anika....Miller." What exactly is this? Did I really change that much? Do I look entirely different from when I was young?

"Oh, Anika!" She exclaims and for a moment I felt relieved, but then I see her gesture something to Gemma. I try to suppress a frown. I can't help but feel like something is wrong. "Can we talk outside?" She says, almost like a whisper.

When we were finally out, she exhales deeply and she rests her hand on her forehead.

I try to keep my mind off of what just happened. "How's Harry? Is he okay? What did the doctor say?" I ask instead.

"Anika." She says shakily. "My boy's thankfully doing okay. There's just a few cautions told by the doctor." She stares at me. "I appreciate your concern, but..." She breaths, firmly holding my hand. "I don't know how to say this, but I'm going to get straight to the point...please stay away from my son."