Matching Rings [h.s]

92

*btw THEY'RE NOT IN A BASEMENT... idky you guys thought they were lmao, they're in one of the rooms upstairs. ok u can continue mwha*

POV: BAYLIN GRIGGS

Waking up I feel a burning sensation in my stomach. I assume it's starvation, I haven't eaten or even drank anything in over three days. I feel so fucking weak.

It's so fucking cold too, colder than it normally is in here.

At least I was able to sleep for the first time in those three days. Harry is on my right, his left arm around the back of my head and his fingers rest on Zayn's pulse— making sure he's still breathing. Zayn is still sleeping on my left, his right hand is lazily intertwined with my left and his head lays on my shoulder.

I'm happy to be with the both of them, knowing they're both here with me is comforting. But I'm stressing the fuck out over Niall and Liam, I have no idea where they are and I don't know if Maya has them or not.

Harry notices that I've woken up and plants a kiss to the side of my head, letting his lips linger. I'm uncomfortable with the fact that I haven't showered or brushed my teeth since I've been trapped here, but I can't really seem to care at the moment and Harry doesn't seem to care either.

"I love you." Is the first thing Harry says.

I turn my head to him and kiss his cheek, "I love you."

I could feel the pure pain and worry in our voices, the legit fear of not knowing what's going to happen to us is antagonizing.

"I'm cold." I say, hoping I'm not the only one that notices how cold it is in here all of the sudden.

"Me too." Harry scoots close to me as a way to help us warm up, his naked torso flush with his shirt that I'm wearing.

We sat in silence for what felt like an hour, neither of us spoke and neither of us moved. Zayn eventually woke up, which gave me a huge amount of relief, and he soon moved along the dead conversation.

"Am I still alive?" He jokes, his voice still very weak and his skin as white as eggshells.

Harry and I both look over at him, not exactly matching his level of humor.

"What?" He huffs out, "Too soon?"

I lean over and kiss his cheek, still feeling grateful that I'm even able to see his face again. "A bit."

Harry takes his arm off Zayn's neck and places it on my thigh, resting it there and taking a deep breath like he was so anxious Zayn wasn't going to wake up that he hadn't been able to breathe all night.

"How're you feeling?" I ask, glancing at the cloth covering his wound. "Does it still hurt bad?"

"I literally got stabbed, Baylin." He deadpans, "Like with a knife."

"I'll take the attitude as a yes." This time I do match his kiddingly manner.

The door knob jiggles and my heart sinks, soon it opens and Louis walks into the small room— cutting our conversation short.

He's wearing an open green flannel with a black T- shirt underneath, and tight black jeans hug his legs— he looks how he always does.

He makes sure no one is behind him as he closes the door, making sure to do so quietly, he takes a breath before turning around to look at us.

"Okay," He walks closer to us, Harry stands up and I can't stop what happens next because it all happens way too fast, "I have a pla-"

Harry punches Louis right in the face.