The Only One for Me
Hospital Visitors
Aly’s POV
I awoke again in a hospital room. At first glance, I though I was alone, but after another look, I saw a dozing Harry Styles. I smiled. His long legs were stretched out in front of him as he napped in a very small and uncomfortable-looking chair. He snored quietly, and his hair was messy. His bedhead was extremely sexy. I watched him, happy to see him again, happy to see his rising and falling chest.
I didn’t want to wake him, but soon enough a young-ish nurse came in. “Oh! You’re awake!” She beamed at me enthusiastically, as this was something for me to be proud of. Harry stirred in his sleep, bringing the nurse’s attention to him. “What a hero, this one!” She said loudly, gesturing to him. This last burst caused him to fully wake up. He wiped the sleep from his eyes as he gave me that smile: the smile that could make a girl faint upon receiving it, the smile I loved so much. I smiled back.
The nurse continued chattering on about checking my vitals, but I didn’t really listen. Finally, after taking my pulse and all that shit, she said, “the doctor’ll be in soon, Hun!” And left.
After she was gone, Harry got up and sat on my bed. He shook his head. “I’ll never get used to that southern hospitality,” He said, grinning at me. “A couple of hours ago she offered to get me coffee while she was on break, it’s completely stunning, the difference between England and here. This is definitely a pleasant change,” He looked down at me, his face turning concerned. “How are you feeling?” He asked, grasping my hand and stroking the inside of my wrist.
“Pretty shitty,” I answered, laughing. “But better because you’re here.” I tried to sit up to kiss him bit realized that I was unable to lift my neck. There was a very large brace around it, and I suddenly felt light-headed. I immediately lay back down; I had a history of fainting, and this situation made me even more high risk than usual.
Just as I was getting comfortable again, an official looking man (official because he was wearing a lab-coat and was carrying a clipboard,) came in, followed by my family and Charlie. After we had exchanged hugs, kisses, and “ohmygodweweresoworriedyouweredeadthankgodyouarealive”s, the man cleared his throat, and we all settled down, Harry and Charlie on either side of my bed, Nick in the chair that had been occupied by Harry only minutes before, and my parents hovering by the window.
“Miss Kohl,” The doctor addressed me, “I will give you an update on your health as far as we can tell from the X-Rays and tests we did while you were sleeping.” I nodded, not quite sure if I was ready or not, and he continued. “From the many tests we ran, we discovered quite a few injuries, none life-threatening, but some will require a substantial amount of time to heal. You have a bruised spinal cord, which is presumably the result of choking, a broken ankle, and some internal bleeding due to beating. Lastly,” He said, and I took a deep breath. I was worried I was right about what had happened in the cave. “Lastly, we regret to inform you, you were raped. We also found traces of date rape drugs in your blood, which means that you probably won’t ever fully remember what exactly happened that night.” At this point, I forced myself to calm my breathing, as I was beginning to hyperventilate. I squeezed Harry’s hand to ground myself. I was right. He had raped me. I had been right. The doctor sensed my anxiety and continued hastily, “Luckily, we also tested the man that was caught, and there was no trace of any STD in either yours or his body.” I let out a huge breath. That wasn’t as bad as I had thought, I wasn’t going to die, or god forbid never be able to have sex with Harry again. As though the doctor was reading my thoughts, he said, “Although you seem to be in relatively good shape, we suggest no erm, sexual activity for at least a month and a half.”
Harry turned bright red, and I’m sure that I did too. Nick and my father both became incredibly uncomfortable looking, and Charlie and my mom shared a knowing look. Great, now my whole family knows I’m having sex with Harry Styles, I thought.
I directed my attention away from Harry and back toward the doctor. He was flipping through his clipboard, and finally he cleared his throat and continued speaking. “As is typical protocol for a situation like yours, we will keep you here in the hospital for another week while we further examine your injuries and begin your physical therapy, which will continue for a month after your casts and braces are taken off.”
Then he cleared his throat again. “Well, I should leave you to your family and friends while I go check on my other patients. Have a good day, y’all!” And on that note, he left.
In the week following that meeting, we talked about everything. My family, Charlie, and I discussed the lovely weather, complained about the awful hospital food, and laughed at an article in a gossip magazine that stated that I was dead, and that Harry was on the run from the cops because he was the one who killed me. In response, Harry, Charlie, and I posted a hospital room selfie on my instagram.
A day or so after the picture, I went on twitter and discovered that the hashtags #staystrongaly and #feelbetteraly were both trending worldwide. Upon seeing this, I looked up at Harry and said, “Your fans are fucking amazing.”
“Not as amazing as you,” He replied, leaning over and kissing me gently on the lips.
After Charlie’s initial timidity and guilt about the matter, she began to become more herself. We spent countless hours laughing about rumors that had to do with me and Harry, indulging in Tumblr, and drinking hundreds of Starbucks lattes. We were very happy again.
Harry, meanwhile, continued sleeping in the chair in my room for the rest of the visit, as if he was afraid I would be taken from him. He never left me alone in the room, and was always willing to help me. I didn’t mind at all, the idea that someone would always be there to protect me was a welcome change.
Every night, when he was supposed to be doing a concert, we would facetime the stadium, with our faces projected onto the big screens. The boys were back on tour since their grand rescue in the cave, filling in for him. I felt bad for keeping him away from his beloved fans, but the selfish part of me wanted him to stay. So he would chat with the fans and the boys, I might say Hi, and would sing a little for them before saying goodbye. My favorite part was when he sang; sometimes I would catch him looking at me while he sang a slow song. After he was finished, he would sing to me too, his words forming lullabies that sent me to sleep, keeping even the worst of dreams away, with only his voice to remind me that I had him. That he loved me.
The days were not as nice as the nights, what with the nurses bustling in and out, the doctor’s (VERY regular) reports, and the frequent visits from police officers who gave updates on the man that had raped me. To be honest, I didn’t care about that man, as long as I knew that no one had to be afraid of him anymore. Sometimes, though, at night, when everything was dark and all that I heard was my breathing and a slow beeping from another room, I would hear the gunshots and the terrifying screams. When this happened, I would cry out, and Harry would be there. He would sing softly to me as I cried into his shoulder, drifting slowly off to sleep in his arms.
I awoke again in a hospital room. At first glance, I though I was alone, but after another look, I saw a dozing Harry Styles. I smiled. His long legs were stretched out in front of him as he napped in a very small and uncomfortable-looking chair. He snored quietly, and his hair was messy. His bedhead was extremely sexy. I watched him, happy to see him again, happy to see his rising and falling chest.
I didn’t want to wake him, but soon enough a young-ish nurse came in. “Oh! You’re awake!” She beamed at me enthusiastically, as this was something for me to be proud of. Harry stirred in his sleep, bringing the nurse’s attention to him. “What a hero, this one!” She said loudly, gesturing to him. This last burst caused him to fully wake up. He wiped the sleep from his eyes as he gave me that smile: the smile that could make a girl faint upon receiving it, the smile I loved so much. I smiled back.
The nurse continued chattering on about checking my vitals, but I didn’t really listen. Finally, after taking my pulse and all that shit, she said, “the doctor’ll be in soon, Hun!” And left.
After she was gone, Harry got up and sat on my bed. He shook his head. “I’ll never get used to that southern hospitality,” He said, grinning at me. “A couple of hours ago she offered to get me coffee while she was on break, it’s completely stunning, the difference between England and here. This is definitely a pleasant change,” He looked down at me, his face turning concerned. “How are you feeling?” He asked, grasping my hand and stroking the inside of my wrist.
“Pretty shitty,” I answered, laughing. “But better because you’re here.” I tried to sit up to kiss him bit realized that I was unable to lift my neck. There was a very large brace around it, and I suddenly felt light-headed. I immediately lay back down; I had a history of fainting, and this situation made me even more high risk than usual.
Just as I was getting comfortable again, an official looking man (official because he was wearing a lab-coat and was carrying a clipboard,) came in, followed by my family and Charlie. After we had exchanged hugs, kisses, and “ohmygodweweresoworriedyouweredeadthankgodyouarealive”s, the man cleared his throat, and we all settled down, Harry and Charlie on either side of my bed, Nick in the chair that had been occupied by Harry only minutes before, and my parents hovering by the window.
“Miss Kohl,” The doctor addressed me, “I will give you an update on your health as far as we can tell from the X-Rays and tests we did while you were sleeping.” I nodded, not quite sure if I was ready or not, and he continued. “From the many tests we ran, we discovered quite a few injuries, none life-threatening, but some will require a substantial amount of time to heal. You have a bruised spinal cord, which is presumably the result of choking, a broken ankle, and some internal bleeding due to beating. Lastly,” He said, and I took a deep breath. I was worried I was right about what had happened in the cave. “Lastly, we regret to inform you, you were raped. We also found traces of date rape drugs in your blood, which means that you probably won’t ever fully remember what exactly happened that night.” At this point, I forced myself to calm my breathing, as I was beginning to hyperventilate. I squeezed Harry’s hand to ground myself. I was right. He had raped me. I had been right. The doctor sensed my anxiety and continued hastily, “Luckily, we also tested the man that was caught, and there was no trace of any STD in either yours or his body.” I let out a huge breath. That wasn’t as bad as I had thought, I wasn’t going to die, or god forbid never be able to have sex with Harry again. As though the doctor was reading my thoughts, he said, “Although you seem to be in relatively good shape, we suggest no erm, sexual activity for at least a month and a half.”
Harry turned bright red, and I’m sure that I did too. Nick and my father both became incredibly uncomfortable looking, and Charlie and my mom shared a knowing look. Great, now my whole family knows I’m having sex with Harry Styles, I thought.
I directed my attention away from Harry and back toward the doctor. He was flipping through his clipboard, and finally he cleared his throat and continued speaking. “As is typical protocol for a situation like yours, we will keep you here in the hospital for another week while we further examine your injuries and begin your physical therapy, which will continue for a month after your casts and braces are taken off.”
Then he cleared his throat again. “Well, I should leave you to your family and friends while I go check on my other patients. Have a good day, y’all!” And on that note, he left.
In the week following that meeting, we talked about everything. My family, Charlie, and I discussed the lovely weather, complained about the awful hospital food, and laughed at an article in a gossip magazine that stated that I was dead, and that Harry was on the run from the cops because he was the one who killed me. In response, Harry, Charlie, and I posted a hospital room selfie on my instagram.
A day or so after the picture, I went on twitter and discovered that the hashtags #staystrongaly and #feelbetteraly were both trending worldwide. Upon seeing this, I looked up at Harry and said, “Your fans are fucking amazing.”
“Not as amazing as you,” He replied, leaning over and kissing me gently on the lips.
After Charlie’s initial timidity and guilt about the matter, she began to become more herself. We spent countless hours laughing about rumors that had to do with me and Harry, indulging in Tumblr, and drinking hundreds of Starbucks lattes. We were very happy again.
Harry, meanwhile, continued sleeping in the chair in my room for the rest of the visit, as if he was afraid I would be taken from him. He never left me alone in the room, and was always willing to help me. I didn’t mind at all, the idea that someone would always be there to protect me was a welcome change.
Every night, when he was supposed to be doing a concert, we would facetime the stadium, with our faces projected onto the big screens. The boys were back on tour since their grand rescue in the cave, filling in for him. I felt bad for keeping him away from his beloved fans, but the selfish part of me wanted him to stay. So he would chat with the fans and the boys, I might say Hi, and would sing a little for them before saying goodbye. My favorite part was when he sang; sometimes I would catch him looking at me while he sang a slow song. After he was finished, he would sing to me too, his words forming lullabies that sent me to sleep, keeping even the worst of dreams away, with only his voice to remind me that I had him. That he loved me.
The days were not as nice as the nights, what with the nurses bustling in and out, the doctor’s (VERY regular) reports, and the frequent visits from police officers who gave updates on the man that had raped me. To be honest, I didn’t care about that man, as long as I knew that no one had to be afraid of him anymore. Sometimes, though, at night, when everything was dark and all that I heard was my breathing and a slow beeping from another room, I would hear the gunshots and the terrifying screams. When this happened, I would cry out, and Harry would be there. He would sing softly to me as I cried into his shoulder, drifting slowly off to sleep in his arms.
Notes
HI GUYS IM BACKKKKKKKK SORRY ITS BEEN SO LONG BUT HIGH SCHOOL SERIOUSLY SUCKS ASSanyways, I have TONS more chapters that are ready to be posted, its just gonna take me some time. THANKS FOR BEING SO PATIENT I LOVE YOU GUYS TO DEATH
ALSO: 4500 views guys? you are seriously awesome
dont forget to always COMMENT RATE SUBSCRIBE and just keep doing your thing because you are AMAZING BITCHES
11/2/13