he thinks i don´t care about him anymore, but i care more than anything. ☾


1. chapter 1

I sat for three hours in the cold and empty waiting area, hoping that some of the doctors would let me see him soon. A nurse at the reception was taking some calls in, speaking in a monotone voice, not noticing me at all. There was barely furniture in this large room, not even some magazines, but I couldn't read something like that yet anyways. The white clock on the wall showed 3am, but didn't feel tired at all. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, making it hard for me to sit quietly.

My shoes were dirty and left small dirty puddles on the white floor, but I couldn't mind about them yet. My fingers were cold, so I rubbed them slightly against each other, but I couldn't get them warm again. With a sigh I leaned back against the hard chair and closed my eyes.

I tried to let it happen again in revue, but the memories faded away, when I tried to catch one in my thoughts. My head was aching from getting up so early in the morning and rushing here since I was called by a woman, telling me, that Niall was sent to psychiatry. I bit my lip, not wanting to burst out in tears again like back in the car a few moments ago, as I felt the big lump back in my throat.

I wanted Niall here with me so much it literally tore my heart apart. To compare this kind of pain with physical wounds was impossible. My chest ached terrible, as the pictures of him rushed through my mind again.

I exspected the worst. The woman on the phone had told me, that he had been taking an overload of heroine.


"Miss?" a kind female voice woke me up and I felt a hand gently shaking my right shoulder. I sat up on the chair, opening my burning eyes, which felt so heavy.

"How long have I been sleeping?" I cawed quietly and looked up to her. She had a messy bun and bags under her eyes, just like me. She had been working here probably for hours. I let my gaze drift over to the clock, a sigh escaping my lips, as I noticed that I had been sleeping for only half an hour.

"Are you here for Niall Horan?" she asked a little bit more quietly, trying to hide how tired she was from working. I nodded in response, awake like I've never been before right now.

I showed me to follow her out of the room, so I got up and grabbed my bag from the ground.


We were so close to escape from everything and now they've finally broke you.

"It is the last door on the right side of the floor, room number seven." she said and pointed out to a door at the end of the floor. I nodded and tugged my nails tight in the dirty old bag hanging down from my shoulder, as I made my way over to the door.

There was a small white shield on the door, showing bare information of the patient in this room.


Niall James Horan, male, 13.09.1993

Owning of drugs, previously convicted

Critical state // no physical injuries


I threw a last look around, my fingers shaking, before opened the door and walked in the room.

The walls and most of the bare furniture were white and seemed cold, just like in the waiting area outside. There was a small desk on which some mixed coloured flowers stood, which wondered me a little bit, because I knew nobody, who actually would send flowers. But I couldn't mind about this yet and looked over to the small bed, noticing a weak, little snore.

His skin had become so pale, his cheekbones were seen and his lips pressed to a thin line, not like before, when we both were together. His hair was in a mess, sticking to his forehead, like always, which made me smile a little bit, although he didn't look healthy at all. But it was relief enough that he was alive and nothing bad happened to him.

I walked over to him and got on my knees beside the bed, since there was no chair or anything to sit on. The floor felt hard under my knees, but I couldn't bother, since my heart pounded out of my chest, because he was here in front of me after all this time.

"Niall?" I whispered in a weak voice, taking his warm hand, which was a lot larger compared to mine. Gently I caressed the back of his warm hand with my thumb and followed the veins of his forearm with my palms, which he used to love when we spend the evenings together.

Before I could drift away in memories, he slowly opened his ocean blue eyes with a tired expression, facing me.

"What are you doing here, Helen?" he asked confused with a broken and rough voice, the expression on his face turning from sleepily to surprised and slightly shocked.

He bit his lip piercing between his teeth and watched me closely, waiting for my reaction.

I took my hand away, since he watched me, like he'd never expect me to touch him.

"I wanted to see you?" I responded quietly, trying to understand why he was so shocked to see me.

"After three years?" he laughed a little bit cold, his face looking hurted. He sat up on the bed and looked down on me. His gaze was distanced and he cleary didn't want to look into my eyes.


This wasn't the Niall I used to live with.

This was the fucked up boy like when I first met him.

"What are you talking about?" I asked him confused. Probably he lost some of his memories, since he took all the drugs and everything?

"Are you expecting me to be happy and filled with love and joy, just because you managed to visit me here in psychiatry, after you broke up with me ages ago, took the car and left me with nothing, but a broken heart?" his voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Somehow I suddenly felt really unsure of my self and lost all my selfconfidence. What was happening here?

Niall and I were a couple and why was he treating me that bad?

"Niall, you don't know what you're talking about? I can't remember ever leaving you alone or even breaking up with you, god don't you know I love you more than anything on this world?" I responded and got up on my feet, looking down into his sad eyes.

"You had been taking heroine Niall, you're probably confused, love." I added a lot more quietly.


This wasn't the Niall I had in memories. This was a heartbroken guy, destroyed by all the drugs he had been taking and all alone with himself.

"Please leave this room." he begged quietly, not facing me. He clearly showed that he didn't want me near him, which I couldn't understand anyway.

"Please Niall-" I wanted to beg, but he just turned me his back and waited for me to leave him alone. I stared at his back, covered in a thin shirt and gulped.

"I'm sorry." he said with a deep voice and clenched his grip around the white sheets.

Without any more I walked out of the small room, closing the door quietly behind me and sunk down to my knees afterwards outside on the floor, bursting out into tears.

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