Butterfly Keeper // h.s. au

Chapter Nine

The sun is an unwanted guest, waking me from my heavy slumber. It hurts my eyes as I attempt to flutter them open. As I sit up I feel a wave of heavy nausea rush to my head. Everything hurts and all my memories seem to have wandered off from my brain. A headache drums constantly inside me like the beat of a heart. I blink a few times to remove the fog from my vision. I'm in Courtney's room, and as I look down I realize I'm in her bed too.

Sarah's bed is empty of her form and as I survey my surrounds it becomes clear that the whole room is empty except for myself. It's quiet in here besides the soothing hum of the vents pumping hot air into the small room. Everything feels too still.

I lift my legs from under the covers and attempt to stand. My knees practically buckle at first but I steady myself against the bed post and wait for my vision to clear. I fight for a memory from the night before but not even bits and pieces will come to me. I sigh in frustration.

With caution in my steps I make my way over to the mirror, feeling like I could pass out on cue as I look at the reflection staring back at me. My left eye is swollen completely shut with striking colors of yellow, red, and especially purple surrounding the wound. A small white rectangular bandage holds together the crescent shaped gash on the apple of my left cheek. There's bruising around that as well; light speckles of dark magenta decorating the outside of the injury.

With the revelation of my appearance in the mirror comes the missing pieces of my memories from last night. Sarah's excitement for the party, my brutal fight with Angela, Sutton watching as I'm being beaten into pulp. Even the odd stranger who asked me if I knew Harry...

His name stirs something unknown inside of me... I begin to pace across the room even as pain shoots through my legs as I do so.

Someone helped me. Someone carried me and told me it was going to be okay. Someone brought me here and took care of my wounds. My fingers ghost over the small piece of tape on my cheek. That's the one part I can't remember. That voice...

I leave the room, not sure exactly where I'm going. I just need to get out.

As I walk the halls multiple thoughts are racing through my mind. The strongest of those being how my nameless, faceless, guardian knew to take me to Courtney's room instead of my own. I hate myself for not being able to remember that voice. Maybe it was Zayn? The person was obviously male, I remember the embrace of strong arms as I was carried. And he would most likely be the only person to know that I'm staying at Courtney's room rather than my own.

I'm so lost in thought that I collide right into someone on the way out of the building. I trip and fall right onto my bottom with my legs all sore and weak, the limbs helping me out here in the least.

"Sorry, That was my fault." I croak out. Even my voice sounds weak and bruised.

As I look up I'm met with the soft green eyes and hard glare of the one and only Harry. He examines my face, not bothering to be discreet as his eyes flicker over my injuries. His hair caresses his cheeks as he shakes his head lightly in what looks like disgust before helping me to my feet.

"It's fine." He almost spits out before turning on his heel and bolting down the hall.

That voice... His deep, gravelly, tone washes into my mind like waves on a shore. It's harsh yet dulcet all at once. Like if you were to actually touch the beautiful sun it would be painful. That's what his voice was.

"It'll be okay." The words from yesterday night echo endlessly in my mind.

It was him. He was the one who took care of me.