indecisive (on hold)

27.

Songs for the chapter:

Unbound- CATHEDRALS 

Scenic World- Beirut

Photograph- Ed Sheeran

Pray- Kodaline

All Comes Down- Kodaline

***

(199 days before)

Harry's POV

One month. It has been one month, that I have been without her. She is gone. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally gone. Every day is the same. I visit her in the lonely, plain hospital room. The only sounds are the heart monitor and her soft breathing. But I do not hear her delicate voice, and I do not hear her laughter. I do not see her beautiful grey eyes and I do not see her breath taking smile. I see a body, pale and broken, laying in that hospital bed. I see the face of someone I have grown close with, but is now a stranger to me. She is not the Elizabeth Rose Winters I know. Knew. She is Elizabeth Rose Winters, the girl from the car accident. Elizabeth Rose Winters, the girl who won't be able to hear. Elizabeth Rose Winters, the girl in the coma. Elizabeth Rose Winters, the girl who won't remember me. Elizabeth Rose Winters, the girl who took my heart and then left, never to return it. 

"Hey man." I hear his familiar voice. It is empty and plain, much like mine is nowadays.

I turn and give him a nod, before turning back to the girl laying in bed, nearly lifeless.

"Do you think she will wake up soon? The doctors say it could be any day, now." He sits on the opposite side of the bed, eyes drifting to her face.

"I hope so." My voice doesn't sound like me anymore. I barely recognize the sound.

"She will. I know she will." He sounds determined.

I know she will wake up, I know she will. But, she won't be able to hear. She might not remember her favorite things. She won't remember her friends, school or me. When she wakes, this world will be cruel to her. She will have to live like that. Dull to beautiful sounds and un-familiarness. Maybe, she's better off asleep.

I reach and grab for her hand, limp at her side. Louis watches my every move. My hand nearly swallows her. Her hand is cold and tiny, it feels nothing like the way it used to. It doesn't send the electricity through my veins like it used to. I run my thumb over her knuckles like she did to me, often. I press her hand to my forehead and I let the sadness take me. I break down into sobs, my tears burn my cheeks and my throat closes. I hear Louis' chair screech against the floor and I hear his footsteps approach me. A feel a hand on my back, but it is not comforting. Not like the way hers used to be.

"It will be okay." His voice is strained. I just cry harder and he exits the room.

His words replay in my head. "It will be okay. It will be okay." Will it? When she wakes up, will she be okay? I hope she will be okay. I am not okay. I haven't been okay since she left me. But I pray she will be.  

***

(184 days before)

Days pass. It is a routine. I wake up in her bed, the other half empty. I have slept there over the weeks because I miss her scent. It is not the same anymore. I do not smell the coconut of  her hair or the laundry detergent on her clothing. I smell hospital and medicine. I hate it. I walk around her apartment lifeless, like a zombie. I don't bother to eat anymore. If I do, it comes back up. I stopped trying. I exit, and climb into her car. My car is still being repaired, but it should be finished soon. The drive is boring. I do not listen to music, I do not sing like I used to. I stare ahead, the turning of my arms becoming automatic, having made the trip so many times. I park and walk in. Flatly giving my name to the receptionist, I am let in to see her. I sit down by her body, repeat my words, cry, stare at her face and fragile body. Leave, when my time is over. Go back to her apartment. Try to sleep and repeat. Day after day. Nothing changes.