Nightingale

twenty-nine

Buckle up loves this one is a long one. 

It's 4:30 in the morning. I slept for maybe a total of 3 hours on and off, waking up at the slightest change in the continuous beeping from the machines Harry is connected to, too worried that if I didn't wake up he would be dead. I don't get why I am so worried that he's going to die. The doctor that came in last night before Harry passed out said he was fine and that they want to keep him for the next couple days just for observation but that doesn't stop that nagging feeling in my chest from making me think the worst.

The night shift nurse came in a couple times and offered to get me a cot so I could sleep comfortably but I politely declined each time. He even offered to stay in the room if I wanted to get some coffee from the cafeteria but I declined that offer too. I'm gonna be a fucking mess at this meeting. I peed with the fucking bathroom door open for crying out loud just so I was able to see him, to see that he was okay.

"How long have you been married?" The nurse asks me, leaning in the doorway as I sit by the window in Harry's hospital room. I give him a confused look but remember that Gemma lied to them yesterday.

"44 days." I yawn.

"Wow, newly weds. He's lucky to have someone like you. I don't think I've seen you sleep since you've gotten here." He smiles, coming into the room to check Harry's vitals.

"I would say it's quite the opposite actually."

"Really? You must have one hell of a love story then." He keeps that polite smile on his face while typing into a computer.

"I guess you could say that."

"Well his vitals look good, blood pressure is a little low but that's normal for the type of pain killer he is on. I'm going to grab a new bandage and stuff to clean out the wound for him, do you need anything?"

"No, thank you though." I sigh and look out the window, down towards the empty street. It's so calm during early mornings like this, peaceful and serine. The nurse walks out leaving me be.

Sometimes I really wish things could go back to when Harry and I first met. Not with Eric obviously but with how naive I was to how fucked up the world really is, back to just him and I singing in the car on the way to the Santa Monica Pier. Back to our conversation on the fire escape with a cigarette, the conversation that became a metaphor for him and I. I want to go back to the good moments, the moments where it didn't feel like we are going to die or die trying to save our lives. Gemma had told me to be careful when it came to Harry when in reality he should be the careful one. Tragedy follows me like my own shadow, lurking around behind me, hiding behind every corner, waiting until it can fully take over. He has risked his life for me 2 times now, the second time unknowingly. There was a saying my grandma used to tell me. Find what you love and let it kill you. I never thought something like that could ever feel so real, I would die for Harry if it meant he got out of this unscaved. I would get on my knees and hand the killer the gun if it meant he could be free from this, if we both could be free.

"Knock knock." The nurse announces before he comes back in, a new bandage in one hand and a paper coffee cup in the other.

He walks over to me, holding the coffee cup out to me, "this is for you and oh-" he digs into one of the pockets on his scrubs after I take the coffee from him, "-here's some cream and sugar, ya know just for safe measure."

"Thank you, you didn't have to do that." I slightly smile as I take the small round containers of creamer and the packets of sugar from him.

"It's no big deal." He shrugs while rubbing in the hand sanitizer that he just squirted onto his hands before pulling back the small sheet that's been used as a makeshift blanket, slowly peeling off the old bandage and throwing it into the hazardous waste bin.