Teenage Dirtbag ✖ ((Harry Styles/Selena Gomez))

11. Not So Bad

i really need to stop updating so slow. SORRY FOR ALWAYS BEING SO OVERDUE ): school is stressing me out and it's actually four am on a tuesday night and i still have loads of homework to due, but i felt obligated to finish this. 

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Selena's POV: 

"Chace Gomez," I huff, panting every now and then as I greet the confused receptionist, looking completely flustered and frazzled.

"Visiting hours are over," she narrows her eyes at me as I stare at her in disbelief.

"Please, I have to see my father," the lady doesn't seem fazed by my desperate pleas so I walk over to the wall by the chairs in the waiting room and slide down, feeling completely off. 

Nothing seems right.

I'm the target of some possessive freak, my mother somewhat hates me, my father is in a coma, and my brother is dead.

"Selena?"

My head shoots up at the sound of a gentle voice and a rush of relief fills me when I notice it's the doctor who has been taking care and checking my father everyday.

"Yeah," I stand up, brushing the dirt of my pants, slightly embarrassed for almost breaking down in front of him.

"What are you doing here? It's late, way too late for you to be out," he questions and I almost smile at the sincerity of his concern and the warmth seeping out of his voice. His eyes twinkle in the genuine light and I notice the wrinkles on his forehead from the stress and grief he witnesses everyday. 

"I just wanted to see my father, but I forgot that visiting hours are over," I sheepishly admit as a smile dances upon his tired lips.

"I guess you're the second person I'm going to sneak in," he nudges for me to follow him but my face scrunches up at his words.

"Second?"

Before I can ask him who the hell else would visit my father at past 3 in the morning, I notice a hunched figure sitting next to my dad, fingers intertwined with the pale man lying in the hospital bed. Her brown hair, much like mine, cascades down her back and she's wearing an oversized maroon sweater that belonged to my dad.

"Mum," the word silently falls lightly, but the effect in the quiet room is heavy. When she turns to meet me, I'm completely taken by surprise. Her eyes are rimmed red and she seems to have aged so much more despite that I only saw her the previous morning. God.

I always despised how my mother cared for her job so much more than anything else; she left me home alone constantly to work on her designs and what not without considering that I might want her around, need her around. She was always in the middle of businesses and I was the one who often visited Zac's grave and talked to my unconscious father. Little did I know, she's here at ungodly hours, holding his hand and pouring nothing but love out of her affectionate glances. She traces his face with the back of her hand and memorizes all of his facial features. She loves him more than anything in the world and I was foolish to think otherwise. 

"Selena," she breathes out and I awkwardly move to take a seat by her, eyes trained on my father. When was the last time I really sat down with her?

"Hey," I mutter.

"Why are you not at home?" she clears her throat but I still hear the soft cry that was earlier present.

"I didn't feel well," I partially lie.

She would literally kill me, and him, if she knew about Harry and his semi-kidnapping act.

"Sometimes, I don't think I ever feel well," she confesses and I'm almost taken aback by her words.