Captive (Sequel to Infatuation)

Chapter 4

SONG(s) FOR CHAPTER: 

♬ Snap Out Of It by Arctic Monkeys ♬

♬ When I Look At You by Miley Cyrus ♬ 

CHAPTER 4

♕ HARRY STYLES ♕

        MY EYES PEELED open to be invited with an excruciatingly annoying beeping sound coming from my right. Nausea twisted in my stomach as I groaned, attempting to sit up when I realized I was in a bed, and then I felt a pinch in my arm.

        I looked down, saw the IV, and everything rushed back. The fight, collapsing, momentarily opening my eyes in the ambulance before fading into a void once more... I couldn't help but to huff in annoyance at how weak I must have looked. My own body failing me after I won against a man twice my age. The press must've been proud to finally have a good story to write.

        I didn't like hospitals, which only increased the pain in my abdomen. They made me queasy with the immense disinfecting smell and beeping heart monitors and blood everywhere. Something about them were too sanitary to me, which was more than ironic when you thought about it.

        Wanting out of this room more than anything, I mustered the little strength I had in me and swung my legs over the side of the bed, bare feet touching the cool tile beneath me. I noticed the hospital gown and let out another irritated groan. How much more degrading could this situation possibly get? 

        I was not weak, but this predicament was saying otherwise. Which led me to scratch at the IV pumping unknown liquid into my until I finally got the tape loose. If a doctor caught me, I'd get my head bitten off, but I didn't really care at the moment. I felt trapped in this so-called magical place and needed to leave... desperately.

        I winced when I pulled the IV out, but left it at that as my eyes scanned the room for my clothes. Grumbling obscenities under my breath when they were no where to be found, I gave up and stood, stumbling a little but quickly regaining balance. My head was pounding, my stomach was churning, yet I pushed it all aside and headed for the door.

        At the very least, I needed something to wear other than this pathetic little gown. Even saying the word in my head made me cringe.

        Spots began to fill my vision again, causing me to groan before leaning against the wall for support. Why was this happening to me? I didn't like hospitals. I didn't want to be in one. I didn't want to be treated like I was weak, incapable of anything on my own. I didn't want to be in this situation. Not at all.

           I squeezed my eyes shut, sweat beading my forehead and I tried to focus on leaving. Surely, that would make the nausea go away, right? I wasn't thinking too clearly, but felt the cool metal knob under my fingers in a brief moment. However, when I gripped it, it swung open.

        Not sure if the suddenness of it or whatever was going on with me made me collapse, but I did. I gripped my head, screaming internally for it to stop pounding. To just stop making me feel like utter crap. But to no avail did it listen. 

        "Oh my God," a voice whispered, one nearly inaudible but I didn't care to open my eyes to see what nurse had stumbled upon such a tragic soul in a lousy situation.

        I felt an arm slip around my waist before my own was slung around the petite form's shoulder. I didn't want to stand, felt too fatigue to do so, but I thought if I could persuade them I felt fine, I could leave. I didn't feel fine, but if I could leave I would. Hopefully.