etc. // hs

thirty-two

*Norah's POV*

"I found some nice medic in the hall," Harry grinned as he came back in and snuggled under the covers with me. "He pulled some strings and I can stay."

"What was his name?"

"Uh, Bill?"

Images of lights flashed in my mind and his face popped into my head, his wrinkled eyes and gray hair and comforting smile.

"Where did he go?"

"I'm not sure," he chuckled. "Why?"

There was a small knock at the door and in walked the man himself, holding a coffee and a big teddy bear.

"Hello there," he laughed gently. His voice was kind of gravelly and I could smell the smoke on him but he also smelled like my grandpa, like old cologne and aftershave. "Do you remember me?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "You saved me."

He handed me the teddy bear. "Just doing my job, darling. And I've met your man here, he's a laugh, isn't he?"

I looked at Harry and he grinned. "Yeah, he is."

"I brought you some coffee, son," Bill laughed as he handed Harry the cup. "I would have gotten you some sweetheart but you're not allowed. Water and solids, isn't that right?"

"I have some bread," I mumbled, pointing to the plate. "But I'm not hungry."

"Well they won't let you leave until you eat," he shook his head. "And that bread tastes like paper."

I leaned against Harry and smiled, my eyes drifting closed as I took a deep breath.

"I'll get you some soup," he said, patting Harry's shoulder. "I'll have a nurse send it up."

"Please not the blonde one," Harry murmured so he thought I couldn't hear. "She hurt Norah."

"She did not," I widened my eyes. "Please, don't say anything to her."

His face fell slightly but he nodded again and left, which gave me a chance to kiss Harry.

"Whoa, whoa baby," he grinned, his hand going to my waist anyway. "Slow down sweetheart."

His soft lips worked slowly against mine, like he afraid to move too fast and hurt me.

I was the one to break away for air, and he looked almost disappointed as I bit my lip. "Soup sounds really good."

He chuckled. "It does, doesn't it?"

Just then, an older nurse walked carrying a tray with two bowls of soup and some water on the side.

"Mr. Polk sends his love and his favorite soup," she smiled warmly as she set it down. "And to tell you that he wants to keep in touch."

"Mr. Polk?"

"Yes," she nodded. "He owns the hospital and all the rest around here, for that matter. You were just speaking to him, correct?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Bill?"

"William Polk," she laughed lightly. "He volunteers as a paramedic sometimes but he's the second wealthiest man in all of England. I'm surprised you didn't recognize him."

"He's very nice," I sighed, leaning against Harry's shoulder. I was so tired and my body was hurting again, so the nurse gave me a shot of something that made my eyes drift closed.

Harry fed me soup and water out of a straw until I was full, then he brushed my hair for me and got me a fresh pillow.

"Sleep, baby," he ordered gently as he sat across the room in a chair, his nose buried in The Catcher in the Rye.