Forevermore {h.s}

47.

2 a.m.

My head is resting on Charlie's shoulder, we are both dozing but I certainly can't fall asleep, my mind is up. A few minutes of surgery turned into 3 hours. The longer we wait the more I'm worried about complications happening.

I'll be honest, I've never been more scared than I am now and never cared about anyone like this. But I didn't cry, it was weird, it was like that blue sad little person in my head was gone and was replaced by fear, it had been controlling my brain for a hell of a long time.

"Are you Mr Styles' family?" A nurse spoke up, her hands full of papers. "Well um-" I stammered and my gaze fell on Charlie. "She's his girlfriend and I'm his brother" he informed her and the nurse nodded in satisfaction.

"Mr Styles is out of surgery, luckily we took the bullet out and he will heal soon" she assured us and I let out a sigh.

"Is he really okay? He's really fine?" Charlie suddenly jumped out of the hospital plastic chair and hugged me again. For about the sixth time in the last 20 minutes. My emotions were mixed. I was glad Harry was okay but I was confused when Charlie said I was his girlfriend, it sounded strange, very weird. I had no idea what to say. So I just stayed quiet and was glad they let us near him at all.

"Can we go see him now"? I ran up to the nurse, she hesitated for a moment but the sight of me must have convinced her and so she walked up to the room, telling me that Harry was lying there. Charlie came running over as well and I silently opened the door. The room was darkened as it was also dark outside and the harsh light from the corridor wasn't very easy on the eyes so we went inside and I closed the door again.

Harry was lying on the bed in the middle of the room, with IV tubes running through his arms, his face pale and his hands resting next to his body. I tried my best not to cry because the sight of his helplessness was not pretty. I've never seen him like this before. Charlie walked around me and stepped over to the bed.

He didn't say anything, I guess he didn't know what to say. So he just stood there looking at a sleeping Harry. Five minutes later he came over to me.

"We're going home and we'll come when he wakes up, are you coming with us"? He asked me and I glared at the bed.

"No, I'm staying" I whispered, hugging Charlie warmly, giving him a sad smile and he walked out of the room. I quietly picked up a chair and moved it over to the bed. I sat up, took Harry's cold hand and intertwined my fingers with his.

"You can't do this to me, I shouldn't have let you go," I spoke almost voicelessly and began to stroke the knuckles of his hand with my thumb. Suddenly my mind raced through how I would feel if he didn't make it. And that wasn't supposed to happen. The tears fell from my eyes sooner than I thought. I hated thinking about this. I overthink so deeply that I imagined Harry being killed, his funeral, and my feelings. It was awful and I wanted to stop, but I couldn't.

A few times, I quoted in my head that I was supposed to calm down and hoped it would at least help me somehow.

Harry

I can hear voices in my head, screaming, crying and sirens. I feel as if I've been run over by a truck, completely overwhelmed.

I'm lying on the ground but when I look around I see my childhood room, under my hand on the floor is a picture of a butterfly I drew. It has blue wings, I like it so much, it's really pretty. Sometimes I wish I was as pretty as the butterfly and maybe I could even have wings and fly away.

When I open my eyes wide, I see that the sky is covered with a shroud of night. I hate the night, the darkness and everything connected with it. I slowly sit up and try to get onto the bed.