The city's best hitman and a precious little flower meet at Le papillon blue, New York's most notorious strip club. An angel on his shoulder that hes going to drag down to hell with him, what could go wrong?
//
I stood there, watching her. I was...
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(1/2 of the double update)
Zayn Malik
They say there are five stages of grief:
Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. And Acceptance.
I experienced them in order. Denial was the first stage.
It's been thirty hours since I got a call from the hospital in the middle of the night from Harry. When he was in tears, letting out the most painful gut-wrenching cries I'd ever heard. Saying things that were completely unintelligible, I couldn't understand a word he was saying.
I drove to the hospital to pick him up, knowing Louis and I had just left him there when he fell asleep. He looked the most relaxed he had in days, so we managed to convince the staff at the hospital to just let him stay there with her.
That call was the last thing I had expected to be woken up by.
I got to the hospital and made my way to Diana's room, fully expecting to find him in there with her, on the chair holding her hand like he had been for the past two weeks straight.
But instead, she wasn't there.
And Harry was on the hospital bed, curled up in a ball and holding the doggy teddy that she loved. He wasn't making noise anymore, he was just laying there, still, I could hardly see him breathe. His eyes were swollen and puffy when I approached the bed, the tears that had been shed were evident on his damp cheeks.
I'd never seen him look that numb, that completely destroyed before.
I basically had to drag him to the car, he seemed like his body had lost all function. He was so weak he could hardly stand. It was like he just wanted to collapse and never get back up again. He was so still besides the fact his entire body was trembling.
And I had no idea what the fuck had happened.
I'd never seen him in a state like that before.
I dragged him to my car and basically just had to throw him in the backseat. I had to buckle him in too because he was just so incapable of doing anything himself. And he was clinging onto Diana's little dog teddy so tight his knuckles had turned white, it was like he never wanted to let go.
I went back into the hospital to ask what happened.
And I felt like a piece of me died when they told me.
She was gone.
In her sleep, they told me.
At first I wanted to laugh. It was just some sick joke, right?
She wasn't gone.
She couldn't be.
I waited for a few seconds to see that happy girl bouncing out of somewhere to tell us she was coming home today. She was coming home because she was better and healthy. She was going home, and she would get to live the long healthy life she deserved. The long healthy life with Harry and Donut, wherever in the world they wanted to escape to.
