HOLLOW » Zarry ✔⚠

98

Harry closes the door behind him and finally looks over to the bed. Zayn's lying flat on his back and he's got tubes and cords protruding out of him. He appears to be sleeping peacefully like a normal person would be this time of night; like Harry should be. But in reality, it is not what it appears.

Because when he makes his way over to him and he hears the slow, agonizing beeping sound of the heart monitor, he knows this isn't really what peace is like. And it couldn't even be close to it when the little mountain peaks on the monitor show the rate of his heart is moving very, very slow. Then too, if one wants to be technical about the whole situation, all this is doing is confirming what Dr. Livingston did not say exactly. Zayn is dying.

It seems that till this moment, Harry didn't want to believe that. It was like he knew it was true, and he knew Zayn was in the worse condition he'd ever seen him in, but he somehow figured things could be alright. Maybe eight percent could turn into twenty percent and then twenty percent to forty percent and before long, Zayn could be standing with him and walking out of the hospital with him hand in hand.

However, now that he's seeing Zayn and now that he's eyeing the huge patch they've got over his forehead from where it hit the pavement during his seizure, it tells him that eight percent is only going down and there's only a matter of time before eight becomes zero. So he's telling himself not to cry anymore now, to be strong, so that he's prepared when the worse happens.

He walks over to the bed and he's also holding Zayn's backpack since he'd grabbed it from the waiting room for fear that someone might steal it.

"I got your glasses." Harry says and he reaches in the backpack, picking them out and unfolding them. "They're kind of crushed and broken but... I still think you should have them since I like the way you look in them." He leans over and puts them on Zayn's face. They're a little crooked and bent, but it doesn't matter because Zayn's not going to need to see out of them anyway.

He sits his bag down by the bed and he look down at him. "I don't like that you think I can't protect you just because I hurt you. I can. And even though you hate me and want to kill me,  I'm still trying to protect your reputation now. I threw the knife over the bridge before my dad could see it and I tossed your journal in the trashcan on the way in the hospital. Unless someone's going around snooping through the garbage, they won't know what your plans were. And if my dad asks me why you had the keys to cuffs that belonged to him, I'll just say I loaned them to you or some shit like that. I won't let anything bad be said about you."

He peers down at Zayn, hoping for anything  in return but he immediately becomes discouraged when he sees there is still no movement from him and that Zayn is lying perfectly still.

So he grabs his hand and he holds it tightly. "Remember that day when we were upstairs in my room and I seemed kind of upset that you were talking to that girl? The truth is, I was very upset, I was angry. But I was only angry because I was jealous. I didn't want you talking to anyone but me." He shrugs his shoulders and rubs the back of his hand with his thumb. "The only reason I did that is because I liked you. I still do. I guess I just assumed you would automatically know that. Apparently I was wrong because... you tried to kill me. Had it planned out and everything."

Harry's stomach begins to feel queasy at the thought of how scared he was tonight as it was all happening. But now he wonders if it's better to have Zayn secretly trying to kill him without him knowing, rather than to have him like this. At least he he would know that Zayn is okay and breathing fine.

"I was just thinking earlier, too. This shouldn't be you. You shouldn't be lying here hurt like this because you're a good person and I don't understand why bad things always happen to good people? Why does the world work that?"

He chews on his bottom lip, knowing he's just labeled himself as a bad person because he was the one who had caused this for Zayn. "So I think I'm going to be a police officer just like my dad. And I know you'd probably call me a hypocrite or something but I think I'll go to school and do something better and actually be better. Maybe change some things. I don't know."

It goes silent for a moment, mostly because Harry is thinking about the ways he could make the world a better place. How he could start by putting away one criminal at a time until the world no longer consisted of people like him. It's a huge challenge that more than likely will never be accomplished. But it doesn't hurt to dream and at least by dreaming, he can see for himself how a lot of men and women first get that urge to become a police officer in the first place.

"Want to know something interesting?"

He waits for a second as if he'd get a response.

"My dad thinks... He thinks I love you and he thinks you deserve me at least telling you that. And no, I'm not joking. He really does believe that. But... the truth is... I don't want to say it because I don't want to be wrong. I've learned that just because someone says they love you, it doesn't mean they always do. And just because they touch you in certain ways and make you feel really good some nights, that doesn't mean they love you either. Sometimes what they're doing is deceiving you. And they do it even when they know it's wrong. Harry glances at the heart monitor when it stops beeping momentarily. But right as he looks at it, it begins again and he let's out a collective breath as he opens his mouth to continue speaking.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I don't know what love is. I know that I always tell my father that. But I don't know what love is when it comes to somebody I like as more than friends. How is it even supposed to feel, you know? How do I know if it's love? What if I'm too young? What if you're too young? What if neither of us were made to love in this way? I think about those questions sometimes, particularly when I'm alone. But I've yet to find the answers so... So that's why I can't say it." He reaches over to stroke Zayn's hair. "And I'm sorry that I can't say it."

Harry sighs as he looks down at the boy and he brings his hand up so he can bend down and kiss it. He takes the time to let his lips linger slowly as he kisses each finger, each knuckle and each fingertip. He's not sure about his body temperature because it could be all in his head, but Zayn doesn't feel like normal Zayn. Zayn feels like he's cold. He feels like everything Harry doesn't remember him feeling like.

"Why are you so cold? You don't feel right..."

Harry let's go of Zayn's hand and scans the bed. All of the tubes that are hooked to him, seem to be coming from the other side of the bed and it doesn't look like he can mess anything up. So without a second thought, he lifts himself up and climbs in the bed with Zayn and he lies down on his side, figuring this would keep him warm. He stretches his neck upward so he can kiss his cheek and he smiles a dimpled smile when he feels how it feels against his lips.

"If I had known our kiss on the bridge tonight would be our last kiss ever, I'd have kissed you longer." He whispers into his shoulder and the hospital gown they put him in is so thin, he imagines it as being his bare skin instead. That makes him smile for the moment because it brings back good memories. Memories he'll always cherish and keep long after Zayn is gone.

After that, there is no more talking, no more whispering, no more anything. The only sounds that can be heard are the humming machines and the slow and lagging beep of the heart monitor. However, Harry doesn't want to hear any of it. He wants to just block it all out. So he closes his eyes and puts his mind in a better place. Preferably some place where Zayn is alive and healthy.

But for some reason, no matter how hard he thinks about this, his home is all that comes to mind. Home is the last place he ever saw Zayn where he was completely okay. Home is where he wants to be right now as he sits at the table across from Zayn, maybe eating whatever it is his father made. Home is his safe place. So home is what he falls asleep thinking about.