Sunshine (Harry Styles)

fourteen

When Harry and I got to the clinic stationed a few blocks down from his apartment, the pain in my arm was almost unbearable. I guess it was just harder to notice earlier, what with all the adrenaline pumping through my veins. But now that adrenaline was gone, and I was near tears.

"You okay?" Harry asked me as we sat down in the velvety chairs positioned in the waiting room. I nod, cradling my arm against my abdomen. I pouted, anticipating the moment when the doctor would call us back into the other room.

In the meantime, Harry tried to distract me from the pain by telling me stupid jokes he had acquired from who knows where.

"Okay," he said. "What street does a ghost live on?" He smiles at me. "I bet you haven't heard this one!"

I smile at his childishness. "I don't know. What street?"

He cracks up. "A dead end!" He throws his head back and howls with laughter.

The joke wasn't even the least bit funny, but I crack up at the sight of Harry laughing. We both immediately stop when the doctor steps out from the doorway and calls us back.

The elderly man tells me to sit down on the examination table so he can look at my arm. I take deep breaths as he turns it this way and that, and I feel my eyes brim with tears at the pain of it all.

"It's broken, alright," the doctor finally says. "But, I can't set it back in place without breaking the bone again, in a different spot."

My stomach drops in anxiety. The doctor turns to Harry. "Is that alright? Will it be of any problem?" Harry shakes his head, giving the doctor a warm smile.

"Not at all."

The doctor nods. "Okay, well if you'll excuse me, I need to grab the medicine to potentially sedate her. It's just over at the pharmacy next door." Harry nods and the doctor exits the room.

I stare at the floor, my breath coming out in spurts. I'm not one to handle pain well, and I'm not looking forward to the doctor snapping my bone while I'm conscious. Harry notices my anxiety.

"It's gonna be okay," he stands up and walks over to me. "If he doesn't snap your bone, it won't heal right and you won't be able to use your arm," he soothes me as if I am a child.

"It's gonna hurt," I protest, my eyes welling up in tears, because I know what is to come. He nods.

"But I'll be right here, baby. I won't let him hurt you in any way that's not necessary. You know that," he whispers to me, taking my hand and rubbing his thumb along my palm. I nod.

Just then, the doctor walks back into the room, and my heart starts beating frantically in my chest.

He pours some liquid out of a large brown bottle and onto a cloth. He lets it dry a little before folding it up into his hand.

"Lie down and just relax," he says to me, walking over to the examination table.

I do as I'm told, and Harry walks around to the opposite side of the table and grabs my hand. He leans down and rests one elbow near my head, so that he's closer to me, comforting me.

"Relax," he breathes, repeating the doctor's words.

"I-I can't," I sob. By now, I don't care that I'm making a fool of myself. The doctor chuckles, finished gathering the supplies he needs for this task.

He puts the folded cloth from earlier down on my face so that it is covering my mouth and nose. I can smell and taste the stuff he put on it; and it isn't pleasant.

Before long, I've stopped crying, and I can't think straight. The ceiling seems so far away from where I'm laying, and so do Harry and the doctor. I giggle.

"It's working, I see," the doctor chuckles. He takes a liquid from a dark bottle and rubs it all over my hurt arm. It hurts, but I'm too distracted to care.

He lets the stuff sit on my arm for a few minutes, before he nods at Harry. Harry sends me a worried glance and grips my hand tighter in his, sliding his other hand under my head, supporting me.

I don't notice that the doctor has picked my arm up until I'm screaming.

The pain is excruciating, hurting ten times worse than it did when I fell. Sobs erupt from my body in screams and shouts of protest.

Suddenly, it's all over. The doctor wraps my arm in plaster, letting it dry before having Harry sit me up. I'm still crying as the two of them fix me up in a sling. I'm embarrassed of how much of a baby I'm acting, but it hurts too much.

"Give her some aspirin later. It'll help with the pain," the doctor tells Harry and he nods.

Harry and I walk out of the clinic with me still crying, and him sending me sympathetic glances. I can barely walk straight or without stumbling because of the stuff on the cloth that the doctor made me inhale.

Harry notices, and walks over to me. He wraps his arms around my thighs, and lifts me up and into his chest, carrying me the rest of the way back home.

I rest my head on his shoulder, whimpering. I can't process a single thought other than the fact that my arm hurts. I don't even notice we've gotten to the apartment building until I feel the elevator jolt upwards.

"You okay?" Harry asks me. I nod.

"That stuff the doctor gave me only made it ten times worse," we both giggle.

When we walk in, Harry sits me down on the couch, and gives me pain killers for my arm.

"You still want that milkshake?" Harry laughs at my already closing eyes. I shake my head.

"Maybe tomorrow."

I feel Harry lay a blanket over me and slide a pillow under my head before I doze off into a deep sleep, where I don't worry about anything going on in my life, and all I'm worrying about is the curly headed boy in my dreams.