For You I'd Bleed Myself Dry

Harry’s POV

I didn’t sleep a wink on the plane ride back to London. Constant thoughts of Quinn and the last show of our tour raced through my head.

Reading the letter from Quinn was definitely a wake up call. I wasn’t supposed to see it but I did and I couldn’t shake the feeling. I thought I had prepared myself at least a little bit if Quinn didn’t make it but I was devastated reading that. Everything was depending on this transplant. If it didn’t work, I was going to loose the only woman I’d ever unconditionally loved, besides my mum.

As soon as the plane landed I basically sprinted down the terminal. I truly wanted to stay and see fans but I really just needed to be next to Quinn. The lads said they’d get my bags for me so I continued to the main entrance, Paul struggling to keep up pace.

I swear the ride from the airport to the hospital took hours. I sat in the front seat shaking my leg vigorously, and picking the skin on my thumbs until I started bleeding.

Against Paul’s good judgment he agreed to drop me off at the door. I wasted no time getting to Quinn’s room. As I got closer my palms were practically dripping of sweat and my heart had mad its way up my esophagus. I was confused why they moved her to a new room. I stopped in my tracks when I saw Quinn through the glass. Nurses were standing around her in scrubs, gloves, and masks.

She lied there so still. I stood there watching her chest rise and collapse to a steady beat until I noticed red patches all over her skin. She was just getting over pneumonia; I thought things were looking up from here. Cheri must have noticed me while walking by.

“Hello dear! We’re so glad you’re back!” she noticed me staring at Quinn. “She found them after she talked to you. It’s shingles. It’s very common for Leukemia patients.”

I hated hearing that. That’s what she told me when I found out about the pneumonia. Those things shouldn’t have to be common, like Quinn hasn’t gone through enough. I had completely zoned out of my conversation with Cheri until I felt Paul’s firm grip on my shoulder.

“Have you had chicken pox Harry?” she asked

“Uh-yeah. I was five.”

“Well good. As long as you were the proper clothing you can see her. Just no skin touching obviously.” She said like it would be easy.

I put on the scrubs, gloves and mask before walking into Quinn’s room. I got closer to her bedside as my emotions started getting the best of me. Her flawless porcelain skin was covered in raw flaky patches. Cloth gloves covered her tiny hands to stop her from scratching. Whenever I saw Quinn in pain or sick it absolutely gutted me, I’d switch places with her in a heart beat.

I reached for her hand, giving it a light squeeze. Her eyes slowly peeled open. She managed a smile that still took my breath away.

At that moment I knew what I had to do.