*Chapter Fourteen- Selfish

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I'm a Harry girl all the way, but damn does Zayn make me feel a certain way...

'Melony's POV'

I wasn't aware of how long I've been unconscious, but the stiffness throughout my body told me it's been awhile. After a few attempts at wiggling my toes and fingers, I decided that it'd be best if I just laid still for a bit longer. The smell of chemicals invaded my senses, the dull scent of bleach hanging in the air causing my nose to scrunch up in disgust. Relying solely on every sense but sight and touch, I heard the faint beeping sounds of monitors and strangely enough, the occasional snore.

Growing the balls enough to squint open my eyes slightly, a bright, white light pierces down into my retinas and I quickly close my eyes again. Frustrated by my body's lack of cooperation, I sigh, but am met with an intense feeling in my right rib cage that causes me to freeze. The longer I lay here, fully awake, the more my foggy mind seems to acknowledge the aching sensation all over my body.

Again, I peel my eyes open, refusing to close my eyes. I blink repeatedly until the strain goes away and my vision unblurs. Panic sweeps through me, consuming my already stressed body, when I have absolutely no clue as to where I am, or how I got here in the first place. Tilting my head towards the left, I hiss as a tearing feelings races through my neck, but I push through it and the monitors I heard earlier stand there, mocking my immobility. Slowly, not wanting that tugging pain to emerge, I drag my head towards my right where the loud snoring is coming from.

I'm surprised when I'm met with a face that never usually goes out in public. It's obvious that he's been worried about something, his grey hair sticking out in different directions as if he continuously kept raking it back. His usually clean shaven face has a light scruff as if it hadn't been shaved in a few days, which was odd seeing as he hated facial hair more than I did. A black blazer hung over his lap like a blanket, his hands folded over it, and he appeared to be in a nice sleeping state, even though his head was cocked to the right at a very uncomfortable looking angle.

The doorknob jingled and I quickly snapped my eyes shut. I don't know why, I just really wasn't ready to understand much at the moment.

My brain was still trying to comprehend the fact that I was laying in a hard hospital bed and can't remember much after being shot in my calf. Yet, although I was only shot in my calf, it felt as if my body had been casually tossed out of an airplane without a parachute.

Somebody cleared their throat suddenly, and I had to restrain myself from flinching at the closeness of it. Alexander's snores cut short as he came back to reality. I hadn't seen a clock anywhere's, but from the large window on my left I had seen that it was late afternoon, the city sunset darkening from a light yellow to a blood orange shade.

"LaFroye." The newcomer's voice rang out, and even through my befuddled mind, the deep new accent I'd become acquainted with was extremely familiar.

"What is it, Styles?" LaFroye ask, his raspy voice slow, reminding me of Harry's morning voice the other day. I was pulled out of my memories as Harry spoke again.

"Uh, Leslie said- No, actually she demanded, that you head home. She said she's lonely and that Melony will be okay with the rest of us. She also wanted me to tell you that she's worried about you, and that it's disgusting to go three days without a single shower." The rough British accent finally ended, his slow drawl was way too pleasing to my drugged out state-of-mind.

"Well," Alex finally spoke after a small silence, and I could feel myself slipping back into a slumber, but I fought against it to hear what else was going to be said. "I guess I should go then, I don't have much of a say. If I don't leave, she'll drive herself here." He sighs, and even though my eyes are closed I can see him rolling his eyes dramatically. I had to fight a smile. They're cute.

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