The Quarterback (narry)

fifteen

fifteen

Zayn and I drove Louis to the hospital, although, Zayn told me not to come. It's not that he didn't want me to come. It's that I had been away from Harry all night. I didn't know how he was doing or what was going on, and I guess Zayn could tell I was worried. I refused though, knowing I was needed with Zayn and Louis more than I was needed with Harry.

Louis didn't want us to leave him, to say the least.

It was hard to see him like that. It broke me. It destroyed me. I hated myself. I blamed myself.

The car ride back with Zayn was long and quiet. The radio would buzz in and out of the stations, but Zayn and I wouldn't speak.

When we were ten minutes away from the hospital, Zayn spoke. He was the first to speak. "Louis doesn't like Harry."

"I know." I replied, my eyes shut.

"No. You don't know. You seriously have no idea. He hates Harry. He thinks Harry is just dating you so he can get more attention. So he can be appreciated and whatever, and honestly, I sort of agree." Zayn told me, which made my eyes open to look at him.

"What the fuck? What the actual fuck, Zayn? Harry is not like that. He's not! If that were the case, he wouldn't have told me how much he loved me! He wouldn't have cared so much for me behind closed doors! And we certainly would not have had sex. So fuck you and fuck Louis too." I hissed at him and as soon as he stopped at a red light, I jumped out, slamming the car door as hard as I could.

I regretted it as soon as I said it, but they were wrong. They were entirely wrong. Harry was a good man and I would defend him and his heart to my grave.

I tugged my hood up over my head and set my sleeve covered hands over my ears to keep then warm as I trudged down the street.

I wasn't going to turn around.

I wasn't going to apologize.

I was done feeling sorry.

I was done being sorry.

Zayn's car pulled up next to me, driving slow as his head hung out the open window. "Niall, get in the god damn car. It's freezing out here. You'll get a cold." He called out to me.

I held up my middle finger against the side of my head, my jaw clenched as I stared at the sidewalk. "Fuck off." I snapped.

"Niall, I'm sorry. Please. Just let me drive you to the hospital."

"No. Get away from me. Please, I just want to be alone." I said quietly, attempting to hold back tears. I failed. They fell hard down my cheeks.

"Okay, Niall. Okay. I'll leave you alone, but please remember that I'm sorry and call me if you need anything. I mean it, anything."

It was 1:30 in the afternoon by the time I got to the hospital. I was exhausted. I was starving. More importantly, I was desperate for a kiss from Harry. A touch, a stroke of hair, a look, anything. I needed something from Harry. I couldn't wait to hold his hand and maybe even slide into bed next to him, curled up against his side until I fell asleep.

But that's not even close to what happened.

When I walked into the hospital room, Harry was not the only person in there.

A blonde head was turned away from me as I stood in the door, a small and neatly polished hand holding Harry's. Her butt was perked up, her boobs pressing against Harry's arm as their lips were connected. Harry's eyebrows were furrowed and he looked as though he were in pain, his face was contorted in such a way that showed he was uncomfortable.