Till Dawn (HS)

xiii

"So it was you at the hospital," Clara spoke in realization, eyebrows furrowing together. Harry was standing up from the couch, brushing off the litter of orange fur on his jeans.

"Oh yeah," he reached out to her as she stood up, as well. Her slender fingers clasped around his hand and she looked up at his face, noticing the subtle smirk. The air felt lighter between them than it had ever been, despite the heaviness of what Harry had shared with her. Clara felt like she could breathe for the first time all week. "Sorry about your coffee."

"It ruined my shoes," Clara scolded playfully and swatted her palm against his chest, an audible smack from the contact of her hand and the firm muscle. Harry cracked a small smile and grabbed her hand. Her heart fluttered when she watched him lift it up to his lips, but then her hope deflated as soon as he quickly realized what he was doing and dropped it from his grasp. One step at a time, she had to remind herself.

"So I was wondering if you," Harry cleared his throat and his eyes fell to the floor beneath them. "If you would like to go see my dad with me. He has to stay at the hospital for a few days because um, something was wrong with his lungs. Filled up with fluid or something."

Clara blew out a breath and smiled gently at him. Her hand reached up for his chin and she forced his head to lift up. "Of course." She wanted to kiss his soft lips and taste them after what felt like such a long time, but Clara knew it wasn't the time for affectionate gestures. As they went out to his truck, she hoped that the right time would come some day, eventually.

The hospital was just as she remembered it from when Jackson had gotten in a car accident, except now as she walked beside Harry down the overwhelmingly white hallways, she could sense the pure hatred he felt for the place, accumulated over the many hours he had spent sitting in that stupid fucking waiting room. His jaw was clenched together as though he was fighting his need to take a breath, and his shoulders were rolled back defensively almost, in a way that reminded her of when she had watched Harry fighting from across the street. It had been sexy then, but now it made her lips etch into a frown and her hand naturally brush against his in attempt to relieve his muscles of some of the tension.

"Which room is he in?" she asked softly. As if on cue, Harry's strides came to a halt right in front of a door to his left.

"This one." He reached for the handle and opened the door. Clara hovered by his side as they entered, that scent of every doctor's room flooding her nostrils. It was like medicine and antibacterial hand soap; she fought the urge to place her hand over her nose to mask it away.

A nurse was just removing an IV from his father's arm when his head lifted up. His dull eyes became bright with surprise when he saw the brunette girl by Harry's side.

"Clara?" Des looked between the two of them, confused but pleasantly shocked that his son had actually brought her there. That makes two of us, Clara thought to herself as she offered him a hesitant smile. Harry's words were replaying in her mind as she noticed the deep bags under his eyes and the opalescent skin that hung loosely to the structure of his gentle face. It caused a lump to form in her throat and she had to swallow it down before parting her lips to speak.

"Hi," her voice came out quiet. She took a deep breath. "How are you feeling?" Clara found the ability to move away from Harry's side and take a seat on the edge of the bed at his father's feet.

"Better than I was an hour ago," Des chuckled and the content that laced his gravelly voice made Clara's nerves dissipate. Her smile became a tad wider and she glanced at Harry, who was standing with his back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.