blue (book one) - h.s. ✔️ watty's 2019

chapter 50 - florida

"Harry, you have to be more careful," Parker warns.

"The doctor said, 'you have to rest in order for your wounds to heal properly, especially with your fractures being so close together'," he repeats, once again, and I quietly mimic his every word with him.

Sadly, he hears.

"I'm sorry," I say feeling bad for mocking him.

He's only trying to help.

"This entire situation is just frustrating, baby," I say watching him apply ointment to my ribcage. His hands are cold to the touch, but are nothing in comparison to the pain I feel once he wraps my torso back in the gauze. I only flinch slightly.

"I know."

Grabbing a cotton swab he coats it in the stuff that goes on my lip and I watch him patiently.

Gently yet adequately he begins to apply the paste making sure to not hurt me in the process.

"There," he says acknowledging his work.

"Here. Eat some of this. It'll help you to feel better."

"I already feel better," I retort stubbornly.

"Harry, please," he pleads looking helplessly. I know he blames himself for this. The thought sickens me, but that's just a part of Park's kind nature.

Sighing, I give in.

The soup singes my tongue, but I continue to swallow the spoonfuls for the sake of Parker's sanity.

It truly amazes me how disgusting and hateful the world can be. I mean Park and I almost lost our lives a few days ago due to hate. A hate that drove a man to pull a gun out on me and the kindest human being on Earth because of the way we are. I should've taken the gun and killed the fucker before the cops showed up.

But Parker would've been mad at me.

This realization forces me to think about how others back home will react. Gem? My mum? I've never considered the reactions of others, because up until a few days ago everyone's been incredibly kind.

I shudder at the thought of having to deal with anymore negativity.

"Okay, babe, I'm good," I announce before Park reaches for another spoonful.

His eyes search mine quizzically.

"One more and I'll let you go," he claims smiling at me.

I roll my eyes, but give in smiling back.

When you nearly lose someone you care so deeply about it surely paints them in an even better light. I'm sure that Parker and I are closer now than we've ever been. When I thought he was shot I could not see life passed that moment. I can't see a future without him anymore. He's become to be my everything.

I simply can't imagine life without the raven-haired boy anymore. I want him more than I've ever wanted anyone or anything in my life.

"I love you," I say uttering words that mean so much to me.

Smiling, he kisses my cheek.

"I love you."

DESPITE DOCTOR'S ORDERS to stay in bed, I've convinced Park into letting me fly. The last thing I want to do right now is lie in bed doing nothing. I'd rather be exploring the world, making memories with the one I love.

Though I'll be doing pretty much the same things in Florida - resting and being babied - I'm just happy to be leaving this wretched city.

"Harry, does your chair recline?" Parker asks, breaking me from my trance.

Without waiting for my response, Parker reaches over me pressing the button to no avail.

"Yes, I'm sorry, this won't do," he begins, complaining to the stewardess.

"We requested a chair that can recline. There's no way he'll be able to fly without it," he explains, holding up the doctor's note.

I've told Parker numerous times now that I'll be fine. But it's Parker.

Things are either done the right way or not at all.

He actually looks quite adorable in his oversized pullover and I want so badly to just pull him down on my lap and cuddle him.

I look down and sure enough the gauze that makes that desire impossible outlines my shirt.

"Excuse me, Mr. Styles," the brunette stewardess cuts in, irritated yet nonchalant about the situation.

"If you'll follow me this way."

With the help of both the stewardess and Parker I make my way to another, more flexible seat in first class.

One that reclines.

Seated I watch as Parker tries to carry both of our bags and look with sympathy as he nearly tumbles twice trying to carry them all.

I can tell the stewardess is getting a kick out of his struggle, though she acts as if she's distracted, scribbling nothing on her clipboard. Her sly smirk begs to differ.

I've got to get him to the gym.

"Thank you, baby," I say as he takes the seat next to me winded.

"Mmhmm," he hums out of breath.

Kissing him on the cheek I recline back in my seat and grab my headset from the overhead.

"PARK, I CAN carry my own suitcase."

"No, you can't, Harold. You literally can't," he fights falling behind in the sea of people.

"Dr. Baron specifically instructed you not to lift more than forty pounds."

"Don't you ever listen?"

"I don't think my suitcase is over forty pounds," I lie.

Of course it is. I had to pack most of his shit too. He can be a bit. . . high maintenance, if you will.

"No, Harry."

I roll my eyes and stop dead in my tracks.

Turning around, I head towards him ignoring the questions he fires at me and grab my suitcase and his.

I begin walking, looking for the UBER and after three failed attempts he gives up trying to take the luggage back from my hands.

My ribcage is on fire, but I think I've made my point.