Troubled [h.s.]

11

"For fucks sake she isn't a mole!" Louis yells to someone on the phone. I feel sheets under my skin and a pillow under my head.

"No, no, no, no. Its Harry and I knew it. I knew it! Put me on Logan... Ah yes my dear... Yes Logan I am afraid to tell you I was correct... Yes... No she is no mole! Why does everyone say that! Yes I am sure. Why? Well because we found her on the corner of 7th street connecting 8 and she was passed out, drenched laying on the pavement. Harry... Yes... He spoke to me... Yes me and Albert found her passed out. No... She ran 32 and a half kilometers I'll give her that. Yes... We will part them if necessary... Good day Logan." with that he ends the long chat. I ran 32 kilometers? I remember running but for like maybe for an hour? The last thing I remember is rain than its black.

What if they think I am a snitch and ran away to tell other people? Would they kill me? Louis begs to believe otherwise but for how long? I am no stitch, only a coward.

I look up and see the white sheets planted on my body perfectly that it resembles a hospital bed. My hair is on my shoulders and my back supported by two large pillows. An IV in my arm and a pulse machine on the tip of my index finger, sending saturation and oxygen levels onto the screen beside me.

"You woke up. Marvelous!" Louis sits on the end of the bed while I straighten myself in the bed only to be strung with a deep headache.

"How long was I out?" I push my palm onto my forehead trying to ease the pain but nothing happens.

"Two days. We had to give you food and water from an IV and uhm- well." he stops so scratch his head, " we had to amputate your legs."

"WHAT?" I scream and pull the covers off, having them fall to the floor to showcase two perfectly fine and attached legs. Louis falls to the floor from laughing while I collect myself from the bed and pull the IV out, kick him lightly on my way out.

"You should have seen your face-" he has tears from laughing as I exit with a covered smile with two fingers on my arm to stop the bleeding. I feel perfectly fine like I woke up from a nap when I take the elevator and leave what seems like Louis's room.

I go up to our room, unaware of time and put the card thats still in my back pocket even though I am wearing another pair of jeans that I didn't wear the day I passed out. I don't remember much of the day. I remember talking to Harry on top of the roof and I remember running away like the absolute bastard I am but thats about it.

When I open the door in silence the lights are out. I step inside slowly and close the door behind me tip toeing. I look at the bed in front of me and Rose is sleeping in it. I lean and leave a kiss on her warm forehead. It doesn't wake her up and I examine the room when I realize the other presence on my bed.

In panic I grab the absurdly over priced vase from beside the tv. I tip toe to the bed, ready to smash the vase on anyone inside the bed. Who the hell is here and why? Is it a burglar pretending to sleep because I opened the door? Or even worse, one of Louis' enemies. God damn what if its Max's guys?

I come to the bed side of this soon-to-be dead person and just when I raise the vase on top of its head it turns in the bed and its face comes into view. I exhale and put the vase down realizing I almost killed my green eyed boy.

I walk back over to Rose and realize the stains on her cheeks. I run my thumb over them when he startles me.

"She cried herself to sleep since you were down there..." he has a very deep and sleepy voice which is making my knees weak. I show no emotion nor anything really, just continue to stroke her cheeks. I don't know if I should apologize or completely zone him out. I don't have a fucking clue.