I keep hearing the sound of your scream. I keep feeling the crash in my dreams, waking up with sweat drowning my entire body. Something has stopped me from even getting anywhere near the hospital. That is, until now. 3 months later. I just can’t stand being apart from you any longer. Though, you’ll probably never forgive me. And taking the car to the hospital isn’t very much of an option. The walk to the place that is saving your precious life does not take that long amount of time, really.
The paparazzi will not be a problem although they’ll probably follow every step. I need to be in the presence of my beloved. Fell the touch of you tender soul. Need to be holding the soft hand of yours. Because this whole fucked up shit is my entire fault. But this I promise; it’ll all be all right. You’ll be all right. We will be all right.
I walk out the door for the first time in what seems like ages. All because of this stupid brain of mine, not being able to focus on the road with such a beauty beside me? Stop blaming any other than yourself, Harry. Stupid Harry.
My cellphone has rung nonstop since that day. I’ll kill them if you’re – no. Sorry. Remember Harry, It’s your fault.
I throw my bag over my shoulder and walk away from our shared house. Only twenty minutes, darling, and then we’ll be reunited.
It’s not until when I’m half way to the hospital that the paparazzi notice me. No shocker, really, since I’ve barely been out. Let’s just hope they left the other lads alone as well. Come to think about them, our tour starts in about a month. Hopefully you’ll be awake ‘til then. If not – I have no clue what to do.
No further than 100 meters away from the hospital, the doctor calls.
“Harry Styles.”
“Hello, Mr. Styles. We needed to inform you about Miss Y/L/N as soon as we could”, he says.
“Speak faster, please.”
“She’s mumbling words and we heard her pronouncing something alike your name possibly.” His words hit me like a wrecking ball, literally.
“I’m almost there actually. I’ll be right there. Thank you very much, doctor”, I say and hang up.
With rushing feet, I’m soon enough inside the enormous building, asking almost too quickly for your room. The kind nurse tries to calm me down while walking me there. She walks me into it and makes sure everything’s all right before leaving us alone. Once I’m sat down on the chair right next to your bed – well, not really yours – our hands connect. We don’t belong here. We should be back home, cuddling and all to silly movies. I should be chasing you through the house because you’ve smeared cream all over my face. Pillow fights and stargazing are our kind of doings. Not sleep overs months in a row at a creepy hospital. I’m truly sorry, love.
Already ten minutes after my arrival the two caring nurses leaves us alone in the cold room. Doubting my feelings, knowing whether to be happy or sad, I sink my head into the soft quilt. What sounds more crazy; happy to be here together with you or sad for actually being the only one awake?
As I sit here, my thoughts wander through what feels like an entire library full of thoughts. How did this happen? My hand is on your hand, safely protecting you from any other accident. The sound of the peeping respirator is annoying, but tolerable since it’s saving the greatest life. Hell, hospitals aren’t funny to deal with. But that doesn’t even matter anymore.
Almost an hour later, I’ve been asleep for fifteen minutes, head on your stomach. The nurse who walked me here comes back with my four best friends. Band mates, brothers, whatever. They’re here and it’s actually a huge relief to not be alone. Their support means the world. They all notice my bloodshot eyes, sharing empathic looks. I get a pat on the back from Liam, Zayn and Niall. Though, when Louis reaches for his turn, I pull him in the tightest hug possible. It’s comforting and when the other lads join us there’s loud sobs. This is where the nurse leaves again; there are too many emotions in one room.