Undercover [Narry]

Chapter 37.

Niall drove home with tears streaming down his face. What made it worse was that he drive past Harry's flat- or what was left of it- on the way home. It was driving in slow motion. Almost as if the flat (or rubble) was taunting him, toying with him. He couldn't help but glare at it, his jaw clenching at the fight and his hands tightening around the steering wheel.

It was his fault. The fire, Harry being in hospital, Louis finding out. Everything. If he had maybe protected Harry more and been less careless, none of this would of happened. Niall shouldn't have had to split up with Harry and Harry wouldn't be in hospital. All these "if only" thoughts were making his head hurt.

"Hey, how is- Harry..." Zayn trailed off as he saw the state of Niall when he arrived home. Tears were streaming down his face and his shoulders were shaking uncontrollably. "I-I had to break up with him." Niall sobbed and ran into his bedroom, slumping in his bed.

When Zayn sauntered into Nialls bedroom, he didn't bother asking any questions. He knew his best friend didn't want to be pestered. So instead, he walked over to his bed, draped an arm around Nialls shoulder and pulled him close, letting him cry into his shoulder. It wasn't until an hour later, Niall had cried himself to sleep, hiccuping himself into silence as he let the tiredness take over him and close his eyes. Zayn lay there on the bed, concerned about his best friend but didn't bother wakening him up.

Back at the hospital, Harry was struggling. He was in so much pain and all he wanted to do was get out. Where was Niall? Why had he left? Why had he lied? Niall wasn't the only one who could see right through people. Harry could see right through Niall. He may have been fooling Gemma, but he wasn't fooling him. He knew that Louis was behind all this. He just knew it. Niall probably lied because he didn't want to thing that he had given up on him.

Harry sniffed, tears still streaming down his face. His voice was hoarse and his throat was sore from the smoke fumes and from constantly shouting on Niall until he had lost his voice completely. It took three nurses to finally come in and calm Harry down. It took an hour an a half of patience and struggling from Harry, but he finally settled down, crying into his pillows. The nurses had constantly asked him what he needed, what he wanted, but Harry shouted back at them, swearing at them and telling them they wouldn't understand. Nobody would.

This tortured Harry. Tortured him because everybody finally knew who the real Harry was. Vicious, a coward, vulnerable and weak. In his eyes, that's who he was. And what did he get from it? Sympathy. The nurses and doctors pitied him for who he was and claimed that he was a troubled teenager. He couldn't miss what they talked about, whispered about. Discussing what a horrible life he must live to act out so aggressively.

But Harry didn't have a horrible life, even he knew that. He had Niall. Everything about Niall made his life happy and perfect. Niall was- no is perfect. And always will be. Harry saw no flaws in the boy whatsoever and sometimes he wondered why Niall said yes to a boy like him in the first place.

All this because of his dad. Because of some stupid diary. He was sure that Robin had read it, and that's why he destroyed his life. He was sure that Robin was a homophobic ass- just like Louis- and he couldn't bare to have a gay step son. So he ruined his life. Tortured him, made him lose everything he held most dear. He lost his own mother, his sister, his girlfriend, even his baby. And now Niall. The most important person in his damn life. Harry always put Niall first, and Niall always put him first. Niall never had a bad thing to say about anyway. Harry thought that was also a reason why Niall lied. He didn't want to blame Louis. Louis had been too good to him.

Harry sighed, shifting himself on the bed, trying to get comfortable. He was cold. The doctors had taken the top half of his gown off because his chest and stomach were covered in burns from the fire and the gown was itching at his skin. Despite the coldness, he was now developing a cold sweat that he could tell was turning into a fever. His eyes drifted to Nialls leather jacket that lay over the chair. He left it. Well, actually, Niall didn't really have a choice. Harry had constantly pulled at the jacket to stop Niall from leaving but instead, Niall went out in the pouring rain without it.