That's when they took him from me. A Harry Styles Fan Fiction.

Forty Seven - Hospital.

TAYLA’S POV.

Beep.

Beep.

My attempt to reciprocate is cut brutally short as my body experiences a sudden lack of electrons.

Beep. 

Beep.

The continuous beat of the heart monitor is the only sound that breaks the eerie silence of the - what seemed like, empty hospital room in which I was laying.

Beep.

Beep.

I pried my eyes open to only see through the tiny slit with which I’d opened. The sunlight barged in and I had to squint even more. My eyes stung as the harsh light crept into the very corners of the space under my lids. After a few seconds of letting my eyes adjust I opened them fully to be met with a head of curls laying on the opposite side of my bed.

Beep. 

Beep.

He was laying there, his hand being used as an arm rest with which his head was laying on. He tossed and turned as if he were in some terrifying nightmare, the ones where you couldn’t make yourself wake up. His hair was perfectly tousled and sat in a dishevelled heap on top of his fair skinned head. 

Beep.

Beep.

His fingers were entangled with mine and I couldn’t help but cringe. I didn’t have enough energy to snatch my hand away from his. I felt sick just touching him. Looking at him, even. 

Beep. 

Beep.

Sleep seemed to succumb me just as quickly as I woke up, I felt my eye lids growing heavy. The lids which were once fully opened resided to becoming slits as they once were before. The darkness overwhelmed my body and my muscles seemed to relax all at once. I fell asleep the way you fall in love, slowly, then all at once.

Beep. 

Beep. 

HARRY'S POV. 

Beep. 

Beep. 

The white walls were painted perfectly and the bunch of fresh orange tulips that sat on the sidebench was the only colour that broke away from the pure white furnishings. Every now and again the white painted wooden door would creek open slightly from the breeze that was softly gushing in through the opened window that overlooked the grassy field. 

Beep. 

Beep. 

My attention was brought back to the limp body of the girl I love but who hated me now. Her eyes fluttered wildly under their lids and I couldn't help but wonder what she was dreaming about. Her forehead had jagged frown lines across it and I brought my finger up, thumbing her forehead and watched as all the creases began to slowly disappear. Her perfectly pale pink lips were slightly parted and her chest rose and fell with every deep but steady breathe she inhaled. 

Beep. 

Beep. 

She tossed uneasily as I tightened the grip on our interlocked fingers. We hadn't been this close in forever and I knew that if she opened her eyes she'd quickly snatch her hand away from mine. I knew I couldn't take these simple moments for granted. 

Beep. 

Beep. 

Regret twisted tauntingly in the very put of my stomach. But no one understands because no one will listen. Regrets collect and become bottled up like old friends, there's nothing I can do about it. As much as I want to forget them and put everything behind me there's always one of them whispering that they'll always be there. They'll never go away. I feel like regret is the strongest emotion. It'll take you over with a countless number of memories, most of which haven't occurred yet.