PERSONAL IMAGINE
Another Love
White wall, white chairs, white tables, people in white cloths. Everything is so white and clean, and although white is such a bright colour this place holds nothing but dolefulness and pain. But here is someone who needs me and my presence, someone who hates that he needs more than I will ever need him.
My best friend Harry.
As I open the door I see him in his white bed covered in a white hospital gown. Damnable those things. Even his face slowly becomes the colour of this house. He looks so pale and weak but he is still the handsome and cheeky but adorable loser that I have spent half my life with.
"Hey idiot," I say with a smile and kiss his forehead, "How it's going?"
"Great, they told me today I can't go home for another two weeks."
"Lucky boy." I say and fill his glass with water. Harry chuckles and stares at the white ceiling. (I learned to hate the colour white) I take his hand and feel how cold they are, how lanky and long but so slender and pale. My finger strokes over the cross tattoo. A matching tattoo we both have.
"I have something to tell you."
"Is it entertaining?"
"I don't know."
"Never mind, just tell me."
I bite my lip and smile at the ground. "I have a boyfriend. Marcus and I went out for a long time and he finally asked me out."
"Oh." Harry says and stares out of the window. I see his bottom lip trembling. My fingers push his curly mess out of his face. He doesn't look like the happy boy filled with life anymore. I miss this side of him. I miss him goofing around. I just miss my Harry.
"What is wrong, Harry?"
"I just—I thought you would—I don't know it was stupid. Just leave it."
"Harry, tell me." I say and intertwine our fingers which he holds up the next second.
"This, you know, and when you give me a kiss on the forehead or when you cuddle with me in this tiny bed or when you take care of me, the long hours you just sit here and watch me sleep. I thought they'd mean something to you because they did to me."
"What are—"
"I thought you did this because you love me," Harry whispers with a wry smile, "But that's stupid. How could you love someone who is going to die so soon?"
"Harry, I'll die too, everyone dies. You're not the only one."
"Yeah but I'll die before everyone else, I'll die before you and you know that as good as I do. I could never make you as happy as he can, I can't comfort you after my death. I just wish I could do all that because you...because you are amazing."
"Harry." I whisper and my free hand strokes his cheek, his green eyes glossy.
"Will you still visit me even though you know now how I feel about you?"
"Can I still? Even though you know I don't feel the same way about you?"
"Please don't say it like that," Harry begs and closes his eyes, "You are allowed to visit me as long as you are happy. Because you make me happy."
"But I'm not happy, Harry."
"Why? Is he not good to you?"
"He is, Harry, he is amazing. But my best friend is dying and I can't help him. That is what makes me so unhappy."
"Mia, Mia, Mia," Harry breathes and kisses the back of my hand, his cold lips touch my skin, "I would change all this if I could but sadly I can't snip with my fingers and my cancer is gone. But that's okay, Mia, because there always are a few people who have a fucked up life and I'm just one of them. It's already so great that I have you by my side during all this."
"You're so great, Harry, you deserve so much better than this."
"Not all heroes get their reward, huh?" Harry chuckles and worms a laughter out of me. My fingers stroke over his forehead as I stare deeply into his green eyes, filled with pain but also happiness and love, "Just kidding. I'm not a hero."
"You're Harry and that's enough. You're you and that's way more worth than being an hero who is loved by everyone."
"But being me is not enough to be loved by the girl I love."
"I'm so sorry, Harry."
"No, I'm sorry. You are going to enter this room from now on with the thought that it's awkward between us and you probably have to think of a way not to hurt my feelings...but don't do that! Just pretend I've never said this to you. I hid my feelings for you before and you never hurt me. I'm used to all this. It actually just got better for me now that I know you know my true feelings before I'm going to die."
"Don't say that."
"Why? Because it is the truth, Mia? I'm going to die and even if you had loved me the way I love you it wouldn't have stopped the cancer from killing me. I'm already fighting against it so I can be longer with you but I know that I will lose at the end."
By now tears are rolling down my cheeks. I hate when he talks like that. I hate that he can say the truth so open-minded and carefree, with such a happy tone in his voice, making it sound that he doesn't even realize how serious this is. I love Marcus but I wish I would have fallen in love with Harry.
"I love you, Mia. I always did."
"I love you, too, Harry." I answer and he kisses my knuckles again. And I really mean it, just in another way than Harry means it but my words were not lied.
"I know." He says and pats the space in the tiny bed. Gladly, I crawl into the bed and make it myself comfortable. Harry wraps his arms around me, trying not to entangle us in his hospital hoses.
YOU ARE READING
Harry Styles Imagines
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] (1) Just a collection of Harry Styles imagines written by me.
