Storms {z.m.}

Chapter 60

Chapter 60 - Christine

"I do," Zayn says, his lip quivering. I see this very image on a loop for however long it is I was asleep on the chair next to Harry's hospital bed.

"You're finally awake, sleepyhead," I hear Harry say. My eyes struggle to adjust to how bright the hospital room is, the curtains pulled wide open today.

"Why are you awake this early?" I ask him as I rub my eyes open and notice Harry leaning against the wall by the window. I try to sit up in the chair but my muscles are so stiff I decide to ease myself into it over the next few minutes instead.

"What do you mean? It's quarter past 10, Christine," he says as he pushes a button on his bed to put him into sitting position. I can tell by looking into his eyes that the Harry in front of me isn't the same Harry that I met weeks ago in Bradford, but he's certainly much less foreign to me than the evil one I had the displeasure of encountering more recently. He doesn't smile from cheek to cheek, and his happiness doesn't quite reach his eyes, but the green in his eyes dances into a blurry shade of blue which is miles away from the grass-colored darkness I had come to recognize when he was spitting out insults at me.

"How do you feel?" I ask him once I finally feel awake enough to sit up.

"Well my head feels like...explosions. I have some soreness, and my leg really hurt but the nurse gave me a painkiller so I feel better," he says massaging the area around the wound on his leg.

"I'm sure you'll get better quickly. You already look much better than yesterday," I tell him as I notice he's not quite as pale as I remember him. There's a certain rosiness in his cheeks that makes him look like he's smiling even when he isn't.

Suddenly, everything that happened yesterday floods my brain all at once. I'm reminded why I fell asleep in this uncomfortable chair at Harry's bedside. Last night, when I told Harry that Perrie's baby didn't survive the accident he was inexplicably inconsolable. That was when all of the pieces of the puzzle came together and I realized that Perrie was pregnant with Harry's baby.

This wasn't just a wild guess; I already knew from the autopsy results for Perrie's baby that his age made it impossible for him to have been conceived the last time her and Zayn saw each other. The only thing I didn't know was who the father was. I quickly figured that out, however, when I paired the fact that Harry fell asleep yelling "my baby" with the fact that his black hat appeared in Perrie's nude pictures. All of a sudden, so many things made sense. At the same time, I feel as if I've been totally blindsided by this and I'm not even sure who I can trust anymore.

I want to bring it up, maybe find out how long him and Perrie were together, how they began seeing each other, anything, but I don't want to send Harry to that dark place where he has to think about losing his first son. I argue with myself for a few seconds before I realize that I need to talk to Harry about this today. After all, if I don't put a stop to it, Perrie and Zayn will be married by the evening.

"Harry, can we talk about last night" I say without looking him in the eyes. Maybe if I don't look into his eyes this won't intimidate him.

"Oh," he says. Without looking at his face I have no clue whether he's scared or sad or confused, but I can't bring myself to look up from my lap.

"I know maybe it's hard to talk about but..." I say trailing off as he speaks up.

"It's not," he says quickly, "I want to talk about it."

"You do?" I ask, finally meeting his eyes. They're serious, but serene.

"I was planning on telling you before..." he says, looking away in an effort to conceal his watering eyes. Before I told him his first son had passed away.