Heaven (Niall Horan One Shot)

I missed her voice. 

I missed her laughed. 

I missed her smile. 

I missed her touch. 

I missed her curves. 

I missed her imperfections.

I missed how her hair smelled of lemon fruits when she walked out of the shower. 

I missed the way she'd nuzzle up to my neck when we lied together. 

I missed how excited she'd get when I kissed her neck. 

I missed tickling her sides and how she'd squirm out of my reach. 

I missed our conversations about our future together. 

I missed how my hands would wrap around her waist and hold her tight. 

I missed the way I made love to her. 

I missed the way she would say my name.

But mostly. I just missed her.

I remember when I found her, passed out on the floor of our apartment. 

I remember my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach when I saw her. 

I remember holding her in my shaking arms, begging her to wake up. 

I remember pulling out my phone and dialing 911 with my trembling fingers. 

I remember the paramedics that tried to pry her away from me. 

I remember her pale face under the oxygen mask as she lied on the stretcher. 

I remember the rushed ride over to the hospital. 

I remember my tears that streamed down my face as I held her limp hand. 

I remember the doors opening. 

I remember her being pulled out of my grasp in just a few short moments.

I remember the wait. 

I remember the tears. 

I remember the doctor coming out from the operating room. 

I remember him saying she was stable. 

I remember asking what was wrong with her. 

I remember him telling me she had cancer.

I remember my breakdown. 

I remember my back against the wall. 

I remember how hard I cried. 

I remember how I rushed into her room when I was given the green light to do so. 

I remember seeing her paler than the last I saw her on the stretcher. 

I remember her not waking up no matter how many times I begged.

"When is she going to wake up?" I asked the doctor.

 "We don't know sir. She's been put into an induced coma. Her cancer spread all the way to her brain and many of her cells were damaged," he replied.

 "Can't you do anything?" I asked him.

 "No, I'm afraid not. We will just have to wait until she wakes up. I'm really sorry sir."

 “Sorry isn't going to make her wake up, is it? You have to do everything you can!" I shouted at him.

 "Sir, we have. There really isn't much we can do. She has had this cancer for a while now," he said calmly.

 "A while?" I asked.