Friend Zoning Harry Styles

You belong with me

---Emily's POV---

"Hello, could you tell me what room Brandon Whitley is in?" I asked quietly, trying to keep her from noticing my bruises. 

"Ummm Let's see." She clicked away at the computer for a few minutes. Scrunching her eyebrows together as she scanned my face. My bruises were fading, slowly, but fading none the less. "Looks like a neighbor heard some suspicious noise, walked into the house and saw Brandon lying there. He's been seen by the doctor. Currently he is in room 435A on the fourth floor." 

I looked at her, wanting to ask the question that had been at the tip of my tongue since I walked through the sliding doors. I wasn't sure how to word it, so I bluntly asked. 

"Does he look bad?" biting my bottom lip softly. Her eyes widened at my question. She looked back into the computer, clicking away at his profile. She sighed deeply before turning towards me. 

"He has a broken nose, very very bad bruising to the face and torso." she nodded her head slowly, making sure I was understanding her clearly. "It's best not to hug him, or make any contact with the patient." 

I wanted to laugh in her face, scoff even. I wanted to point at the darkening that formed in my face due to his contact. 

"Oh don't worry," I paused, "I won't." 

The receptionist pointed towards the direction of the elevators. It was still dark out, the lack of sun rays beaming into the window caused the hallways to grow cold. I wrapped my arms around myself as I pressed the 'up' button between two of the elevators. 

Every beep that sounded, as the elevator car passed another floor, made my heart race a thousand times quicker. Now that I was physically at the hospital, I had no idea what I'd say to Brandon once we stood face to face. 

"You should have thought this through better Em." I shook my head, speaking to myself. The final 'ding' rang as the elevator door opened. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out slowly. The floor was silent. Usually, visiting times were over by now. I'm guessing, with the fact that Brandon didn't have family here, they let me through. 

Room 435A stood infront of me. The solid door, closed, but not shut completely. I placed my hand on the cold surface. You can do this... You have to do this. I repeated these words in my head a few more times, before pushing the door completely open. Stepping in, the room was dimly lit by a small light above Brandon's head.

The first thing I noticed, were the bandages wrapped along Brandon's nose. The doctor must have re-broken the bone, trying to allign in correctly. Dark circles plastered around his eye, indicating every spot Harry pounded his large fist on. Dressed in a large patterned hospital gown, his legs were covered by a thin white blanket.

He was in terrible shape. Much worse than I was. I raised my hands, grazing my fingers softly against the slit on my lip. Now healing, I remembered how much it hurt while still fresh. Looking at Brandon, I noticed he had multiple gashes around his mouth. Every cut a different size than the last. The smallest, still larger than mine. 

I stood there, not knowing what to do. Just the sound of his breathing machine, beeping, filled the small room. 

"Didn't think I'd see you here?" I heard a raspy voice mumble, Brandon was awake. "Didn't think I'd see you again, period." He took a deep breath, a painful groan leaving his mouth. 

"Brandon," I whispered quietly. Stepping completely into the room, I took the seat next to him. Scooting it a bit back, trying to gain some distance between us both. He's in a hospital bed Emily, he's not gonna get you anymore. I knew he wouldn't hurt me, because he COULDN'T hurt me. Still, it made me more comfortable, knowing that there was some space between us.