I stared at the flowers. They were roses--brilliantly red, with deep green stems and countless petals--but they didn't hold my interest for very long. I didn't bother with trying to sniff at them like most people might have, and I didn't thank the man who had set them there as he retreated back out of the room. I didn't even reach for the card propped up among the leaves to see who they were from, because I had a good idea of that already.
I just gazed up at the blank ceiling, switching between that and the equally bare wall. This room was so vacant. There was no personality to it--just four walls, a bed, and a nightstand. I felt as if I was enclosed in the space, completely trapped. I longed to walk outside, to see the blue sky and the fluffy clouds, but more than anything--I longed to seehim.
It had been nearly a month now. I wasn't sure exactly of what day it was, or even the month--I'd lost track. But I knew that it had been too long. I wanted out of here, out of this cold, lonely place.
At first I'd thought that I was waking up in a hospital, that handful of weeks ago. Niall was there, but only him, and every time I would float in and out of consciousness he would just repeat that everything was okay. I shouldn't have believed him.
I suppose things weren't as horrible as they could be. I had learned that I was, in fact, alive. Niall was quick to point this out, as if I couldn't clearly see it myself, before going on to explain that Harry had been taken into custody.
He had a big gang and had done many wrong things, and this, all on top of him blowing up two cars and killing multiple people in the process, had him getting served twenty-five years in prison. I could very clearly remember gasping in horror when I'd heard this. Twenty-five days was too long to be apart from him, let alone twenty-five years.
The boys had been planning on breaking him out, even if they would have to go into hiding, but before they could, someone else did. And apparently they had snagged me from the ambulance as well. It was all still so confusing. I felt like I only had bits and pieces of the story.
I knew that I was safe, wherever the hell I was at. I'd only come in contact with a few people, all of who claimed to be my 'unofficial doctors'. They'd done their 'unofficial' job well. I was recovering, and even though my leg was still incredibly sore, I could walk.
The boys had visited me a few times, but it was mostly just Niall, and his visits had grown less frequent. Nobody ever shared much with me. They just came in, said hi, asked how I was doing, and then lapsed into a horrible silence.
I knew that it was down to me to start the conversation, but I never wanted to, and the sole reason for my sinking back into some unwanted robotic state was the fact that for at least three weeks, Harry had been out of jail, and in that entire time, I had not seen or heard from him once.
I didn't know where he was or what he was doing. The boys never offered up any information, and I never bothered with asking. I knew that they wouldn't supply me with the knowledge I so desired, and I wasn't about to waste my breath on pointless questions and unnecessary arguments, no matter how much I missed Harry.
The door opened then, but I kept my eyes trained on the ceiling. It was probably another man to come check on me briefly, or maybe take the roses away. I wasn't sure, but I didn't care what he did.
"You're not going to open the card?"
My entire body froze, every muscle turning to ice as I disbelievingly tilted my head down. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded over his broad chest. Messy curls were pushed back off of his forehead, his dark eyes staring at me with an intensity that had me itching to look away, but I was, as always, captivated by his gaze.
