"I'm starved, Liam, hurry the hell up!" Louis wines, waiting at the door for the sleepy patient. "Shutup, Lou. You try getting in a wheel chair with stitches on your body you can't rip." Liam mutters, finally allowing the nurse to help him into his chair. I cross my arms and lean against the doorway, too, and Louis and I both watch Liam bet set into the wheelchair with the help of the nurse. "Thank you." Liam gives the blonde haired a kind grin, wheeling himself towards Louis and I. Liam gives Louis a glare, scrunching up the corner of his lip and shaking his head at Louis. Louis mocks him, doing it back and pushing himself up to follow. I do too, not knowing if the small disagreement is in a play filled matter or they're are just generally annoyed at each other. That happens a lot. When they first met each other, through me, they hated each other. But now they're just fine. Most of time.

"The food sucks." Louis drops his hamburger onto his tray, laying his arms on the table on either side of the blue plastic tray. "It's better than school meals." Liam gives Louis a look, saying mentally that he should thankful instead of complaining. "Their tater tots are really good." I agree with Liam, sort of, chewing a tot as sort of an emphasis. "It's shite." Louis looks at Harry, determined to be correct. "It's food, just eat it." Liam rolls his eyes when Louis isn't looking at him anymore and I grin just a bit, getting a level of humour from their bickering. Even if it's not full on arguing.

I turn my attention to the very wide doorway to the hospital's cafeteria, that same blonde boy walking through--very slowly--with a friend or something. He looks the same age, so it has to be a friend or a brother. He could be his fraternal twin, even. But, I'm sticking with the guess of the black haired guy being his friend, since they look nothing alike.

I watch him inconspicuously, neither of the blokes exposed to the realization that I'm creepishly watch them speak to each other as they make their way around all the tables to where they can get some lunch. I turn my eyes to a bag being rolled on wheel's that's being guided by the one with tubes attached to his nose. An oxygen tank.

"Harry," I turn my head to Louis, wondering what he wants. "Could I have the rest of your tots?" Louis asks, annoyed that he had to repeat it a few times, I'm guessing. "No, get your own." I furrow my eyebrows in refusal, moving my tray away from Louis more. "Come on, give me some of your tots." Louis wines in a low voice. "No!" Louis reaches over me and tries to grab some tater tots. Defensively, I grab Louis' hand and pull his hand away. A squished tot flies everywhere, meaning Louis got a few. I look at my tray and then to Louis, staring at the table after. "IDIOT!" I whisper yell, kicking the seat across from me that's attached to the table. Liam chuckles, picking up a chip and dropping it into his mouth.

I lick my lips, turning around scanning the area near the serving line and the tables around it. Finally, I spot him already at a table seated across from his tan friend, talking to him with such joy, laughing as he's trying to explain a story or a joke, perhaps, and I can't help but feel the want to smile because he's in such bad condition--like he looks dead already--and he's sitting there: eating, laughing, talking, living as if nothing was ever wrong.

The blonde with brown roots crosses his arms, his hand holding onto his bicep as he stares at his friend, listening to every word he's saying and nodding with a phantom of a grin as his friend talks to him about something. He looks past his friend, and then right at me as if there's a huge red arrow with blinking lights pointing at me. his grin drops only a centimeter, and he stares back at me. We make eye contact for just a split second, before the dark rooted fellow looks back to his friend, nodding again. I turn back around.

Liam's only been here over night. I don't expect him to know this one person in particular, but, I might as well give it a try. "Do you who that guy is?" I ask, throwing a thumb over my shoulder. "Who, the one you've been mad dogging?" Liam asks, with a smirk as if he knows something no one else does, not even me. "Yeah, him." I roll my eyes internally. "No. I don't know him." Well that's disappointing. I at least wanted to know his name, if not his story. "But I can go talk to him?" Liam thinks I like him, and I don't. Not that I have a problem admitting it if I do like him, but, I don't. I'm just curious. Something about that grin he shot me right before disappearing from sight, just makes me want to sit him down, stay there for hours just us two, and talk to him. Listen to him tell me how he got here, when he got his disease, his interests, how he feels about catching me staring at him, and what he thought when he did that tiny action to make me want to do this.

"No, don't. I just wanted to know his name." I look down at my plate, no longer having an appetite for the infamous tots. "That's how it all starts. Just wanting to know their name."