Sealed With A Kiss | n.s

47 ✧ i miss you

Hello babes, so as mentioned, because we now know who's on the hospital bed and what not, there wouldn't be any flashback scenes with all these ﾟ*✧ﾟ*✧ﾟ*✧ divider thingys any longer, it'll all be written in 'present' day :) xx

ﾟ*✧･ﾟ

It's currently eleven at night and it has been more than twenty four hours since Niall got hospitalised, sixteen hours since Harry reached the hospital. And those sixteen hours are not in vain because he's been told that Niall's finally out from surgery and done with the blood transfusion and he can now see him.

He stands outside Niall's hospital room door. He braces himself, his stomach shifting uneasily and he notices that his nails are pinching into his skin. His fingers are curling and uncurling by his side in trepidation, as if in constant need of touch and reassurance.

But what he needs is to be able to touch Niall, to drink him in by running his hands over his skin, see his warm smile, see his bright blue eyes, kiss him over and over again.

"Go be by his side, lad." A soft, soothing voice speaks next to him, before a gentle hand is placed on his shoulder.

Harry jolts slightly in his spot, turning around to see a kind looking nurse with her salt and pepper hair tied up in a bun, hairline wrinkles crinkling by her eyes as she smiles softly at the green eyed lad.

"I'm scared." Harry finds himself admitting meekly to the kind nurse. He really is. He's terrified. All this time, after coming back from Harp Enterprise, he has been sitting in the same chair for countless of hours, waiting for all the monitoring and tests and blood transfusion and surgery to be done.

And now that it is, he doesn't dare to see him. He doesn't dare to put his heart on the line and take in the sight of his boyfriend that's definitely battered and bruise. Doesn't dare to see him all bandaged up from head down to his torso. Doesn't dare to come into reality and accept the fact that what happened has happened.

And yeah, so maybe he's a coward, not daring to face reality. But can you blame him? Maybe he just doesn't want to believe that his Niall is laying in there, unconscious. That his Niall can't kiss him back, can't reassure him that everything is going to be okay, can't hold him and hug him close to his chest, can't see his smile or hear his laugh. He just doesn't dare and want to believe that.

"I know it's a hard and scary thing to process, but he needs you by his side, yeah?" The nurse urges encouragingly, giving his shoulder a pat, then two, before dropping her hand. "Talk to him like you usually do, I'm sure it'll help."

With another last smile, the nurse turns and walks away, and Harry's left alone, standing outside the closed door.

Inhaling a deep breath and mentally preparing himself, he twists the knob and steps in.

He flutters his eyes open, which he didn't even know he closed unconsciously, his gaze immediately landing on the stiff body laying on the bed.

He gulps, blinking once, then twice, his mouth suddenly turning dry.

As if his legs have a mind of their own, he finds himself slowly and carefully making his way over to the bed.

With each step, he feels his heart slowly rising up the back of his throat, every wisp of oxygen slowly leaving his lungs.

He drinks up the sight of his boyfriend with an aching heart, tears instantly brewing at his tear ducts.

Distinctive purple and maroon coloured welts sit under his eye by his cheekbones. His usually pink lips are now pale with a deep gash in the middle of his bottom lip. His jaw line that used to be littered with Harry's own marks of love, is now littered with yellow, turning purple, painful bruises instead.