forty-nine.

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It's been a day

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It's been a day.

Last night didn't feel real. Sometimes I wondered if I had died at some point and I was just hallucinating some kind of nightmare-ish hell that I couldn't get out of. Despite that, I still found a way to curl up to Harry and fall asleep last night.

Not after consoling him though. It was rare whenever I saw Harry sad, and god, I hoped to never see that sight again. When Ajax came to get me from Zayn's I expected the absolute worst. I would be lying if I said I wasn't relieved whenever Zayn opened the door and Ajax barreled through him like he was some piece of paper that floated in the wind.

I had to apologize to Zayn a million times before I left.

He didn't appreciate Ajax's abrupt house invasion.

But when Ajax told me about Harry being in the hospital and how they found his mum, I immediately knew it was bad. I don't hold grudges, nor do I hold sour feelings. Even if I was still mad at him, I couldn't bring myself to stay away from him when I knew he was going through a hard time. It wasn't like me. As Zayn stated before, I cared a little too much.

And he's right, it is annoying.

Only sometimes though.

Seeing Harry in the hospital was surreal. The moment I stepped into the room, I noticed that he had been wearing his own heart on his sleeve, but unfortunately it was showing under his puffy red eyes. I tried to act like I didn't notice it, but it hurt too much. No matter how much I want to hide it, I am an empath and it's very draining.

It will never top the ultimate feeling of guilt I had when I saw Jackie in the hospital. I'll never forget that. It's been a day and it was still a brightly vivid picture burned into my mind. Seeing her took me back to being at the village in Lisbon, it reminded me that I was in her position, and if I wasn't careful then I could've easily been in that on the brink of dying. Holding onto dear life, even if she didn't realize it, she was. I wondered if she knew that she was stronger than how she looked.

I kept asking Harry if he was okay, but after the twentieth time and the twentieth tired 'i'm fine,' I decided to stop pushing. When we arrived to the new house that, I supposed, I was being hidden in, I was a bit in shock. I didn't expect it to be nice, but I didn't expect it to be run down either. It was the right amount of enough for me. For now. Outside of it, I didn't really get a good view of it because it was night time when we arrived. Too dark for me to fully appreciate it.

But the inside of it was cozy. I always wished for cozy. My whole life I tended to romanize my life into cozy even if it wasn't. Large sweaters, sweatpants, heavy knitted blankets and cups of coffee with dim orange lighting that bounced off just the corner of the wall and a nice poetry book. That was cozy.

But this?

This was definition cozy.

It almost looked like a log cabin on the inside. There was a large green couch with a loveseat to match its color. And a fireplace. Can you believe it? A fireplace! It was old as hell, but I liked the rustic look. The kitchen was small, but I always hated large kitchens. It was just more to clean. I think my favorite place in the entire house was the bedroom because it came with a king sized bed that had memory foam and a master bathroom that had both a tub and a shower. Separately.

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