You & I || h.s (ON HOLD FOR EXTREME EDITING)

eight.

It's been awhile now - two weeks to be exact - since our encounter with that weird guy. I never got to know his name but Harry wouldn't tell me.

Speaking of Harry, we haven't talked since then. That night, the man said a few more things and simply left. Just like that. Harry drove me back to the dorms and precisely told me not to tell anybody of what happened that evening. After that, we never contacted each other. I haven't seen him at all. Not at Uni, frat parties, anything. It's like he just disappeared right off the face of the earth. I haven't seen Zayn either actually now that I think about it.

They're hiding something from me and I'm just dying to find out what it is. One day, I almost chose to go to Harry's apartment to demand the truth out of him but I thought better of it. He probably doesn't want to be around me anymore now that I've caused him so much trouble. Ah well.

I'm jotting down some notes for my class before I hear a knock at the door. Sam is out, again, at whatever she's at. I didn't bother to listen, I was too caught up in my studies and I had a big test coming up soon. I swiftly stand up and walk over, opening the door.

And guess who I see. That's right..

Harry.

After all this time he finally decides to grant me with his presence? Asshole.

Instead of cursing him out, I gasp at his appearance. He's all bruised and bloody. He's got a black eye forming on his left eye, his lip is split, there are bruises everywhere, and gashes of blood are smeared all over his clothes and face. Plus, he looks really pale and he maybe possibly might pass out any moment now.

Oh my god.

"L-Liv.." he wheezes right before collapsing into my arms. I struggle to keep him up but he's too heavy. Ugh.

This is not good. Not good at all. One, he needs a hospital right now. I don't know why he didn't go there in the first place, that dumbass.

Two, I'm not strong enough to carry him all the way to my car and I don't want to cause a scene.

Three, I'm hyperventilating and I'm getting light-headed.

Okay, breathe Liv, just breathe.. It's okay you've gone through this before and you can definitely do it again. Now focus and walk across the hall and knock on the door.

I bang on the door loudly, maybe too loudly but I don't care right now. I have to help Harry.

It opens and thank god, it's Zayn. He's in his pajamas, I probably just woke him up.

"Liv? Wha-"

I cut him off, "Zayn, I need your help. It's Harry."

His eyes go wide and nods like he understands what's going on. We walk inside my room where I put Harry on my bed. He's still out cold and his face is as white as a ghost, beside the blood and purple bruises.

"Okay, hospital. Now." I nod and assist Zayn in carrying Harry into the elevator. Thankfully it's late at night and nobody pays any attention to us. Oh no big deal, just carrying an unconscious friend over to the hospital no need for a scene.

Ha. Ha. Cough, sarcasm.

We reach Zayn's car and carefully lay Harry down in the back seat. I sit with him and Zayn takes the wheel. Once he starts the ignition and begins driving, he bombards me with questions.

"Liv, what the hell happened?"

"I don't know. I was studying until I found Harry at my door with blood all over him!" I run my hand through my knotty hair.

Zayn sighs in response and continues driving. We sit in silence as I have Harry's head in my lap while I get his hair out of his face and hold his hand. After what seems like forever, we arrive at the hospital. Zayn takes Harry and we run over to the front desk where there's a nurse and a few doctors. Once they have their site on us, they begin working. They take Harry from us, putting him on a stretcher and scurrying off to the ER.

"How did this happen?" A nurse with gray hair asks.

"I don't know, I just found him at my door." She nods and jots down some notes. She asks a few more questions about Harry and then walks away. I'm on the edge of my seat as we wait. Zayn has his head in his hands when he deeply inhales and exhales. I feel like he knows something and again, he's not telling me it.

"Zayn?"

"Yeah?" He lifts his face from his hands and turns to me.

"Who could have done this?"

He huffs, "I have an idea but I'm not sure yet." And we go back to silence.

After about a few more hours, we're greeted with a nurse who has a bad look on her face.

No.. Oh, no no no no no.

She looks at us gravely and says, "I'm sorry..."

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