How It's Going To Be [h.s.]

Chapter 1

His hand was clasped tightly around mine. We were walking shoulder to shoulder on the narrow walkway while a mass of people was crowding around. It was cold out and I was watching the little puffs of steam that appeared every time either of us exhaled. I looked over to his face. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were pursed. With his eyes diverted to the ground before us, I nudged him. Immediately, his green eyes locked with mine.

"Harry," I smiled, "kiss me."

"Not right now," he nodded to the cameras that were incessantly snapping pictures and the loud crowd of people.

"Let's give them a show," I teased.

He laughed lightly at my proposition and squeezed my hand playfully. "I'm not kissing you for the cameras."

____________

The first thing I became aware of was a steady beeping sound. The second thing was an intense and overwhelming pain consuming my body. There was a constant throbbing in my head that matched the rhythm of my heartbeat and the mechanical beeping echoing around me. A sharp pain in my back made it hard to breathe. It felt as though my body was lined with bruises. My eyes were closed and I didn't want to open them, but the distinct feeling that someone was near convinced me that I should.

I blinked a few times to clear the blur from my eyes. I scanned the room to orient myself. The beeping sound was coming from a large, gray machine beside me. It took but a moment to realize that I was connected to the machine through various tubes sticking out of my arm. My legs were cold despite being covered by itchy sheets and a thin blanket. There was the unmistakable smell of sterile equipment that was found only in a hospital. I felt a rush of fear.

Looking across the hospital room, I found the reason why I felt like I wasn't alone. There was a tall figure standing near the window looking out. The way the daylight from the window was pouring in, I could only see his silhouette. His hair was sticking out in every direction as though his hands had run through it dozens of times. His hands seemed to be hidden away in the pockets of his tight black jeans. There was something familiar about him.

My eyes fluttered shut as a particularly long sting of pain coursed through my head. It was a sudden pressure and then a heavy ache. An uncontrollable groan came from my mouth as a response to the pain. I could hear the person walk close to my hospital bed. I felt a warm hand on mine and I opened my eyes. He was right there.

"Hi," he said gently.

I felt my eyes widen. I knew exactly who this person was. It was Harry Styles. "What are you doing here?"

My question confused him. He looked away for a moment. "I didn't want you to be alone. Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Why you? Why didn't Alessandra come stay here with me? Why am I here?" I felt panicked.

"I'm going to get the doctor," he said suddenly. I watched as he crossed the large room and pulled the door open. He disappeared quickly as if something were seriously wrong.

Finally alone, I looked around the room. I wasn't in an ordinary hospital room. There weren't curtains providing privacy, there were real walls and a door. Judging by the view outside the window, I was staying on a high floor. The corridor outside my room was extremely quiet. My hospital room was spacious; a small sofa and two chairs were arranged in the corner. I was in a private room in the hospital.

The sound of the door opening and closing too loudly snapped me from my thoughts. A doctor entered wearing a white coat with a stethoscope wrapped around his neck. At first, Harry had followed him in, but the doctor asked him to wait in the hallway for a few minutes. I was thankful for that. I certainly didn't want to discuss whatever medical issues I was having in front of a famous stranger.