Divided. (Harry Styles)

/16/

Zac's heart monitor beeped, shrilling through my ears and my hand squeezed my mother's comfortingly. We once again found ourselves sat by his bedside. He had made little improvement in terms of his condition but the doctor's, on the resources they had, were able to keep him somewhat stable. All I could do was pray.

"Are you okay Fliss?" my mother asked from beside me, her tone soft.

"Yes," I replied. My answer was a little short but unintentionally so.

"You just seem a little dazed." Her reply humoured me a little, what did she expect? Life was no fairytale right now.

"I'm sat next to my brother who has just been shot mum..." I sarcastically answered.

"Fliss," she scolded with narrow eyes and a firm tone.

"I'm sorry."

"The Halfway Point. How has that been? You don't talk about it much," she noted. The mention of the Halfway Point made my blood run cold yet made my heart race all at the same time. The hatred I had for the cruel atmosphere that surrounded the likes of Harry's father and the Labour Room was a contrasting juxtaposition next to the way Harry made me feel. I hadn't thought about it too much before, but my feelings for Harry were growing ever stronger. His touch, his words, they made me feel alive and soothed my inner worries and angst toward the society and events around me.

"It's fine," I answered my mother eventually, a blush spreading along my cheeks.

"Sure? You just don't seem very certain," she pressed.

"Yes. Why all the questions?" 

She huffed, leaning back into the uncomfortable seat that she was on. "It's just, I need to make sure you're okay. I already feel as if I'm losing one child, I don't want to lose another," she admitted.

I squeezed her hand that I was holding even tighter before speaking, "You won't lose me. And you definitely won't lose Zac, I'm not going to let him go mum."

"Fliss," she sighed, her face sombre. "We have to face the fact that this could be the end for him-"

"What? Why are you saying that?" I interrupted her from finishing her sentence and dropped my hand from hers.

"I'm just saying that-"

"No mum. As soon as we start to lose hope, the sooner things become bad. He's your son, don't be so pessimistic," I stated.

With a sigh, she spoke in reply. "Fliss. I want to be optimistic, I want to have hope but things are hard. Being a mother with a son who has been shot, a daughter who's under the eye of such harsh people, it's heartbreaking. And not to mention I don't even have your father to help me out anymore, he's gone, Zac's hurt and you're never at home. How do you expect me to feel?"

She had a point, making me feel guilty, for I was waltzing around planning rebellions and kissing an Upper Half man, not exactly the kind of thing she'd want from me.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want the thought of Zac not making it home to even cross my mind," I said truthfully and ignoring my other previous thoughts.

"I know," she nodded. "I guess we just have to wait."

I didn't respond, I had nothing more to say. My mind had become filled with too many thoughts and subsequently the rest of my evening pursued with worry and my night with a lack of sleep as I thought of Zac, Harry, my mother and how horribly uncomfortable my excuse for a bed was.

My next day at the Halfway Point, was therefore clouded by my tiredness. I lugged myself through the corridors and into Harry's office, trying not to collapse and fall asleep.