.Fishnets. - Larry Stylinson AU.

Chapter Seventeen.

2nd November.

Harry and I arrived at the Royal Infirmary Hospital just gone two in the afternoon feeling rejuvenated and hopeful, walking hand in hand to a different waiting room. Perrie had informed Harry that Niall had been moved out of ICU early that morning but remained in a coma with close to no progress. Admittedly, that was slightly down-heartening but at least he was out of intensive care. Everything seemed a little brighter that Monday. From the weather to Harry and I's mood, it all seemed like it had uplifted.

After we'd washed in the shower, we changed, deciding comfy clothes was the best option. Harry popped back to his apartment quickly to grab some of his stuff, mainly because I'd asked for one of his hoodies, claiming that because it smelt of him I'd feel safer. I wasn't lying. Wearing one of Harry's black, oversized jumpers with a pair of leggings and a fluffy coat ,that I'm sure was originally Perries, was quite mentally and physically warming. I felt like an angel in disguise walking through the bland, hospital corridors. At one point I was pretending to add glitter to each chipped piece of paint on the walls, skipping ahead of Harry and giggling as I'd wave an imaginary wand around in hopes of livening the place up.

He claimed I was crazy; I'd just agree and continue.

By the time we'd found the correct waiting room after several tries of incorrect navigation, I was worn out and all remains of my fantasy pixie dust had disappeared. Harry just chuckled at my hyperactive antics, convincing me that maybe I'd ran out because I'd given it to a struggling child. That made my heart swell and fill with a fuzzy feeling, soon enough leading to me walking like Peter Pan once again, just to tire out after a few moments.

There were barely any free seats available in the dull waiting room, and with me being a tad too clingy that day, I suggested that I sit on Harry's lap. He didn't seem against the idea, not saying a word as I adjusted myself upon him, maybe wriggling a little too much as he softly grabbed my waist and stilled me.

I observed the people around us, noticing that the atmosphere was a lot less tense than it was in the ICU. People weren't crying, instead they were reading the newspaper or playing a game on their phone. People weren't distressed or panicking, they were relaxed and calm, silent and tranquil. Everyone had a personal bubble that could probably be popped easily, but that  hadn't happened yet. Within the Intesive Care waiting room people were vulnerable, they were an open book. But in this new, stale place, if people were to be open books all of their pages would rip. They had already been read, they didn't need to be seen like that again.

"Your hair is so soft after you wash it.." I heard Harry whisper as he played with my hair, breaking me out of my trance. The small, affectionate, loving touch was enough to distract me, relaxing into it as Harry tried to bounce me on his knee. I almost felt like a kid again, when my mum would take me to the doctors or dentists and I was anxious so she'd do small things like that. It was a nostalgic feeling.

"Thank you.." I murmured, looking at him through my fringe and giggling as he leant forward and randomly kissed my nose.

"Perrie said she's just getting herself a Red Bull and packet of crisps from a vending machine so she'll be with us soon.. I've warned her there's literally nowhere for her to sit." Harry informed me, trying to look past me for vacant chairs.

"It's Perrie, she'll sit on the floor if she has to." I laughed, remembering all the times that we'd be on the tube or the bus and she'd just drop to the grubby floor and sit there instead of awkwardly standing. I can't blame her, standing can be a pain in the ass, especially if you're one of the only ones doing it.