ASSUMPTIONS [H.S.]

chapter 53

Amber Easton

My legs are aching. My chest feels particularly tight.

My lips are too dry. My stomach is cramping. My left temple is pulsating obnoxiously.

The more I think about it, the more I realize my whole body is in pain.

Even when I decide to open my eyes, I have to momentarily close them from the sudden brightness. My sight roams around the white-walled room, and my mind gets clouded with confusion.

I'm aware I'm currently in a hospital, but I've got no recollection of getting here. While I do remember the sequence of events that went down in my apartment, I can't quite put my finger down on what went on afterward.

The more I look around the room, the more details I start noticing —
1) awful blue curtains are failing to cover the blazing daylight;

2) there are dozens of wires and systems connected to my body and almost all of them keep making repellent noises;

3) a certain British brunette is asleep on a plastic chair right next to my bed.

A faint smile tugs at my lips because his head is laid over his crossed hands on the white sheets of my bed.

His barely-audible snores suddenly overpower all the other noise. My free hand slowly and cautiously sneaks into his chestnut curls. For a moment, all my physical pain subdues a little.

The light touch is enough for him to immediately jolt awake. I'm quick to pull my hand back, and silently berate myself for giving into my intrusive thoughts.

I watch as he blinks slowly multiple times to snap out of the disoriented state he's in. "Hi." He stays completely stoic but reaches out for my wired-up hand.

"Hi." It seems to be our thing. I think I heard the heart machine skip a beat.

"How... How are you feeling?" He seems to be careful when picking out the right words.

I don't think I've had enough time to figure out the answer to that. "Honestly?" I ask, receiving a cautious nod in response. "So shitty," I whisper so that the two words feel lighter.

He mindlessly squeezes my hand a little to show his care. Somewhere in my mind, I try to connect all the events to figure out how he got here because I specifically remember being in Liv's car.

As if reading my mind, Harry answers the question I never even asked. "Olivia called me just a little after they brought you in. She was here for the last 3 hours."

I narrow my eyes at his explanation. Even that just hurt. He realizes I'm not entirely following, and adds, "Since you were still asleep, we decided it's best if we took shifts in being next to you. My time's almost up now."

I softly squeeze his hand back. "Yeah?" I faintly smile, but it gets wiped off when another worrying thought sneaks into my head. "Wait, what abo—"

"He's alive." It's like Harry's been waiting for me to ask. "He wasn't at your apartment when the security got there."

I feel my shoulders deflate from all the relief. I can't remember exactly how I hit his head with the bottle. "Are you sure? Because I—"

"Am." He cuts me off softly. He keeps his eyes on mine in honesty. "Seriously. The police have a search warrant on him now."

There is some kind of unfamiliar shadow in his eyes when he sighs. "Besides, I think we should be worrying about something else."

"What?" My chest tightens as I prepare for the seemingly bad news. I try to think of all the possibilities that it could be. Maybe if I hold my breath, they won't hit me that hard.