Reaper [Zarry]

death twelve

*mature

"Harry," my voice falters.

My heart fucking quivers as he slumps in my arms.

"I didn't mean to," I cry out and fist up my shirt, pressing it to his injured side.

"Z-zayn," his face grows pale, eyes wide as he realizes how much of his own blood is spewing.

"You shouldn't have fought me for it. Dammit Harry."

I scoop him into my arms and pop open the trunk, gently setting him down. I cut a piece of my shirt and tie it around him as I scramble to get the first-aid kit.

"I am so so so so so sorry," my voice shatters. "I love you. You know that right? I love you."

He hisses in pain, head hitting the backseat with a thud.

I continue to soak up the blood with the thin fabric of the shirt until it slows to a trickle.

"It isn't that deep," I let out a sigh of relief. "I had this all planned," my eyes water. "We were gowing to gaze at the stars. I was going to hold you and see them reflected in your eyes."

"Sounds romantic," he says lacking energy. He tries to smile but winces and I bandage him up slowly, carefully, lip poking out of the corner of my mouth as I concentrate.

"I ruined everything."

"You t-told me not to take my life but then you were going to-"

"It's different," I sigh, rubbing my temples. "You don't deserve to die. I'm not who you think I am."

"I know your heart Zayn."

I manage to carry him to the passenger's seat and get him strapped in.

The tires are tearing up the grass and I'm peeling out, barreling out onto the highway, foot pressing on the pedal like I have have something to prove.

"I said I wouldn't hurt you angel."

"Not your fault," he grimaces, eyes squeezing shut.

"That was stupid of me. I don't wantto be apart from you. I just have all this guilt eating away and me and you wouldn't understand. I've done some terrible things."

"Everyone makes mistakes," he sputters. "I'm sure I'd forgive you."

The hospital is controlled chaos. I might be death but ironically, I hate hospitals. They're stark white. Too sterile, sheets pressed and starched, gowns billowing, far too large for any of the frail, sick patients. The gown swallows Harry up. He's so pale, he blends in with the bedding and I swallow thickly.

The stench of antibacterial and heavy cleaner stings my nostrils. I clutch his hand, fingers lacing in his.

I dip to kiss each of his knuckles and his eyelids flutter open. He smiles sheepishly and I bite back a grin.

"Harry," the nurse comes in, cheery as if she isn't constantly surrounded by ill people. "You're going to be just fine love, no stitches needed. That should heal up on its own. It's all cleaned up for you. Keep it that way to prevent infections and dress it up okay, dear? Your friend here did a fine job stopping the bleeding."

"Sounds like you're all fixed up," I smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

It's great news and he's released just before dark.

I have to help him change into his clothes and he blushes, embarrassed that he can't function normally without pain shooting through his side.

"You're so strong," I whisper, sweeping him up into my arms. "This gives me an excuse to carry you everywhere."