Yellow || hs au

| 87 |

—

Nervous. I'm nervous. My stomach is filled with butterflies and uncomfortable tingles, my heart is beating rapidly against my ribcage. My hands are clenched in fists at my sides as I stand on the outside of my car in the freezing January weather. The sky is a dark shade of grey, the clouds overcast making it feel much later in the day than it really is. I chew my bottom lip gently as I stare up at the building in front of me, a sign that reads 'St. Gregorys rehabilitation center'' in big white letters. The building itself is very large, two stories tall, and very long.

I close my eyes for a brief moment, drawing in three very long deep breaths, all of them filling my lungs with the maximum amount of air they can hold before I let all of the air out. I learned this technique from Sarah about a month ago, and so far it's been helping me a lot when I start feeling anxious and overwhelmed. I reopen my eyes once my heart has slowed down and I stare at the building for a while, my fingers going numb the longer I stand out here. I guess I thought this would be a little bit easier. But it's not.

I haven't seen Harry in three months, and now I'm supposed to just walk inside and see him and how much he has probably changed? I guess that's the point of picking someone up from a rehab center, to see how well they're doing, to be excited to see their progress. And I am. I can only imagine how well he's doing, But that doesn't change the fact that I'm scared. What if he doesn't look at me like his girlfriend anymore, what if our lack of communication over the past three months changed his mind and he doesn't want to be with me anymore? He could very well decide that he doesn't want this anymore.

Deep breath. In. . . one. . . two. . . . . . Stop worrying. Three. . . four. . . five. Out.

I shove away the intrusive thoughts that cloud my mind, and I straighten my posture, leaning forward on my toes to urge myself to walk, and to also assure myself the soles of my shoes aren't frozen to the pavement. The parking lot is significantly filled with many other visitors, and I find myself wondering if there are any other patients going home today, too. I draw in a long deep breath before I allow my feet to begin carrying me towards the entrance of the building.

The sliding doors of the building glide closed behind me, and the warmth of the building engulfs my entire body. I breathe in slowly, glancing around for a moment. At first, it seems like an average doctors office, with a front desk and a couple of chairs placed against the wall. But to my left and right, there are two separate hallways, leading into each wing of the building. The one on the left has a sign above it labeled 'Psychiatric' and the right wing is labeled 'rehab'.

I can't see any further down the hallways, but my attention is earned by a door closing that is behind the front desk. The empty space behind the front desk, is now occupied by an older woman who smiles sweetly at me.

"Hello dear, can I help you with anything?" She questions kindly, her short figure almost makes her hard to see over the tall desk. I wet my lips and take a few steps closer, glancing back at the hallway on my right before I find the nice woman's gaze. She's dressed in a pair of scrubs that have pink and purple flowers on them, and for some reason, I feel very comfortable with her.

"I'm here to see my boyfriend? Um. . . Harry Styles?" I voice in a questioning tone, unsure of how to go about this. I watch the woman lower herself into the chair, her fingers beginning to click rapidly across the keyboard of her computer. I roll my lips into my mouth, glancing at one of the brochures displayed on the counter. It's a photo of a needle and I immediately am familiar with what it is used for. I swallow hard and turn my attention back to the woman who hums lightly. My ears perk up at the tune; Blackbird by The Beatles.