-Harry's POV-

I just found out about her mother's death last night. That explains everything. The whole neighbourhood was distraught - that's why mum drove me to the hospital. I've been here for 11 hours now.

They still won't let me in to see her. "HEY!" I shout at a nurse passing by. Her brown her is swept up into a clean ponytail, and her nails are painted a perfect pastel green. "Can I please go in to see Isabelle White?" my voice sounds more desperate each time I ask.

"Are you direct family?" The nurse asks.

"...No, but her family is either dead or on the other side of the world."

"I'm sorry sir, I have direct orders not to let anyone in until she's removed from the ICU."

"Can you at least tell me how she's doing? Please," I say, my voice pleading.

I guess she's struck by the pain on my face. She sighs "She lost a lot of blood, so a blood transfusion was necessary. We're required to keep her in there for 12 hours to make sure she's not allergic to any foreign substances in the blood. She should be released to her own room soon. She's not awake yet."

"When can I go in?"

"Once she's in her own room. No one can go into the ICU after visiting hours."

"Thank you," I say quietly. She smiles before quickly striding away, back to work.

Since no one will let me in immediately - and considering I didn't sleep at all last night - I rest my head back on the hard plastic of the hospital chair and fall asleep with the picture of Isabelle covered in blood behind my eyelids..

I look out my window to see Isabelle's house go up in flames. "HARRY!" Her pleading screams ingniting fear inside me, spreading like a wild fire.

"ISABELLE!" I yell back, bolting out the door, my bare feet slapping on the concrete sidewalk. I wince as I step on a rock, but I'm too numb to feel anything other than her.

"HELP!" She cries. I never want to her that sound again.

I rush into the house, now engulfed in a mass of blurry heat. I immediatley run upstairs to find her locked in the bathroom.

I bang on the door but she won't come up. She's stuck.

Using my shoulder, I manage to break down the door. I find Isabelle lying there in a large pool of blood, increasing by the second. Her dull blue eyes find mine before whispering, "You're too late..." And then they close.

"Mr. Styles?" A new voice wakes me up from my nightmare. Sweat is beading on my forehead, and I can still feel my heart racing. It's just a dream, I tell myself, for now.

"Yes?" I reply, my voice cracking and groggy.

"You can go in now."

I follow her down the halls of the hospital, making turn after turn until we reach a quiet wing. I look up at the number, Room 273. I scribble it on my hand with a pen I found in the waiting area before gently opening the door.

The nurse leaves me, and I slip inside. "Isabelle?" I whisper.

My eyes find her, lying down on the bed. Someone changed her out of her bloody, old clothes, and now she's in a hospital gown. Her hair that was matted with blood has now been washed and tied back. There's a large bandage wrapped around her left forearm, but it's almost soaking through with blood. She has an IV sticking out of the other arm, but even now, she still looks beautiful to me.

I walk over, taking her hand and kneeling beside her bed. I know she can't hear me, but for some reason it feels right to talk to her while she sleeps.

"Im so sorry, Isabelle. About everything. I'm sorry that you had to have your best friend kill herself. I'm sorry that your mother is dead. I'm sorry that you felt so sad and scared that you decided to die along with them. I'm so sorry I wasn't there sooner to save you."

My throat starts closing up, and I start to choke on my tears. I bring her hand up to my lips and gently plant a kiss on the outside of her palm. I brush them aside roughly and continue.

"I know you don't think that anybody cares about you, but I've been here all night waiting. I promise, Isabelle, I'll never leave you. Never. Not after what happened. I'Ve never felt this kind of pain before. I promise, I'll spend my entire life trying to make it up to you. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

I sit there with her in silence, eventually falling asleep before the nurse reappears. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave now. I'll give you a minute to say goodbye. You can come back tonight," she says before closing the door.

I look back at Isabelle. She's so beautiful. I sit there and study her face. Her hooked nose, the faint freckles scattered across her cheeks, her long, brown eyelashes that cover up her mesmerizing blue eyes, her pink lips, so perfectly painted and so soft against mine... I love everything.

I lean in and press the softest kiss against her forhead before I get up and walk to the door.

I dont know what comes across me, but something makes me pause. Out of my control, my lips whisper, "I love you, Isabelle," before I close the door behind me.

Something inside my starts praying she heard me, because it's true. I think I love her.

---

-Isabelle's POV-

I've been in here way too long. I'm sick of all of the nurses bustling around, all of the noise. Different monitors keep beeping beside me.

Everytime I wake up, a new grief washes over me like a huge, crashing wave. I keep struggling to come up to the surface and breathe, but the second my head surfaces from the dakr water, a new wave crashes down on me, knocking me off of my feet and sweeping me away into sadness.

My mind has blocked out my mother's death, that is until Harry brought it up. I wasn't asleep for his visit although I wish I was. now all I can think about is my mother and Addie and him.

I replay his voice over and over in my mind. He thinks this is his fault for not getting to me sooner. I can't believe he thinks that anything is his fault.

It's all my fault. I should've saved Addie, and I shouldn't have let my mother leave. I shouldn't have done this to myself.

I was far too embarassed to open my eyes and talk to Harry. Or actually, I was far too ashamed. I can't believe I've resorted back to this.

Another nurse comes in to take my blood, and I let her. Vampire, I think to myself, although its true. She even looks vampirish, with her sleek, long black hair and her hospital robes - or should I say Cape. I watch as the blood shoots from my arm and up the tube, not even wincing when she puts the needle in. This pain is nothing compared to the hurricane inside me.

She leaves as fast as she appears, and soon she's gone, disappearing down the dark halls of the hospital, leaving me with my thoughts.

I think back to Harry's last words, although I'm sure I imagined them.

I love you... No he doesn't. I imagined it. How could he possibly love me? Not after what I did. Not after everything I've done. I'll just keep on hurting him, pulling him into the black, spiralling mess that is my life.

He he can't love me.

Notes

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