Gone | hs

15-Sweeter Than Fiction

[Harry's POV]

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I wake up once again when a middle-aged woman brings me a tray of what I assume is breakfast. I haven't eaten naturally since lunch on the day of the fire. They apparently been feeding me through my IV or tubes or whatever medical thing they used. This is the first meal I'll consume by mouth.

The tray contains a warm and thick chicken soup, a small side of white rice, and a glass of tea. Bland but consumable. It isn't one of the best meals ever but it will do, considering I haven't eaten naturally for a number of days.

Harry rolls over in his sleep and that is when I realize how sleep deprived he's been these past few weeks. Every moment he was by my bedside, waiting for me. I couldn't write a book with a love this beautiful.

I slowly swallow a spoonful of soup and cherish the feeling of substance going down my throat. I take another spoonful, and another, until the bowl is empty and my tea is gone.

I don't eat the rice, feeling that Harry will be hungry when he wakes up and unwilling to leave my bedside.

I should be able to leave soon. It's been weeks since the incident and I feel better than I did just hours ago. My skin is already becoming harder and stronger, not the squishy pink flesh I hard when I awoke. It's amazing how things change so rapidly.

Harry stirs and yawns while I gaze at him and smile. He must've been tired.

"How are you?" Harry asks whilst rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He is so adorable when he wakes up, his words are slightly slurred and he's like an innocent little boy.

"Better." I respond, turning my gaze to another nurse whom just walked in.

She beckons to Harry, "We need to run some tests that will determine how soon Ms. Grace can return home, please wait outside."

Harry frowns and kisses me on the cheek before stalking across the room in four strides, taking a seat against the wall next to the door, his shoulder still in my sight.

The nurse fluidly comes to the bedside and pulls the hair out from in front of my face. I try not to make the situation awkward by returning her curious stare, but hey, I live for awkwardness so I look into her eyes as she inspects my facial skin. She, avoiding the situation completely, pulls away and snaps on a pair of gloves.

I internally laugh to myself, feeling quite satisfied. The nurse returns to my bedside with an impeccably large needle. She, without further ado, plunges the point into my arm and draws blood. I grimace at the sight but she doesn't just stop there. She then pulls a scary looking knife out of her bag and doesn't hesitate to scrape some skin off the top of my wrist.

"Umm, ouch." I say under my breath.

"We'll know by tonight how soon your skin will be clean and fully healed." The nurse leaves sharply and Harry comes back in with a curious expression.

"She seems pleasant." He says with another glance over his shoulder.

"Yeah, well, she says we'll know by tonight how soon I can be let out of here." I say with a slight shrug.

Harry sits back down on his small cot and folds his hands.

"I'm sorry." I break the silence and Harry shoots his gaze back up to my face. I'm sure my face looks terrible, all the smoke-ruined skin torn off.

"What are you apologizing for?" Harry questions.

"For leaving you, knowing I might not've made it back out." I say sheepishly, avoiding his strong gaze.

"I'm proud of you for doing it. You saved those teenagers." Harry scoots over and places a finger delicately under my chin and lifts my face up to meet his eyes.

Without any intention of happening, we lean together and kiss - full on the lips. I was actually just moving forward to adjust my position on my bed but Harry simply took his chance. It's the first time we've actually kissed and meant it. It was beautiful.

I'm at a loss for words, for the first time. Harry excuses himself to the bathroom which somehow makes me wonder where he has been staying these past few weeks. I'll ask him when he comes out.

Seconds, maybe minutes, pass until the white door swings open and closed sharply. Harry stalks back to my bedside in three strides and sits down on his cot.

"You know, I've been wondering about some things." I begin with.

Harry nods silently, as if telling me to go on.

"Where have you been living for the last three weeks?" I question.

He shrugs, "Here."

He stands up and pulls a small black duffel bag out from under my hospital bed. He looks back at it shamefully before shoving it back under my bed without another word.

"Oh." Is the only brilliant thing I can say.

"I don't need much." Now he's the one avoiding my gaze.

"I won't exactly be able to live by myself, now will I?"

"Why'd you ask me? Is Alex coming back?" He asks innocently.

Do I need to be bluntly obvious? Does he obviously not understand what surface I'm trying to scratch?

"I'm trying to get you to move in with me, but you're obviously not understanding my offer. Must I be blunt?" I ask impatiently.

He smiles sweetly, "Yes, I think you'll need to be blunt with me."

"Will you move in with me?"

"Yes."

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Was it too soon?

Sorry the chapter is so short, I've had awful writers block..