niall has cystic fibrosis, a genetic disease that clogs his lungs with thick mucus, making every breath difficult. But Niall's case is worse, having B. cepacia, an infection that makes him ineligible for a lung transplant. No second chances. No miracle cure. Just time running out. He had been diagnosed with it for years, since he was 13. He was now 19, and living in the hospital.

"I've already clocked the nurses schedule, so unless you plant your ass on that call button no one's gonna bother you for like an hour." Niall explains to his friend, Harry, another patient who he's lending his room to have sex with some girl. "Hey, I gotta sleep on that bed, okay?"

Harry barks out a laugh, "Wow, I mean we're not animals." Hey says as he wraps his arms around the girl, bringing her close to him.

"Don't worry, it's not even gonna take that long." She assures with a giggle.

Niall smiles at the two and waves off at them before walking out of his hospital room, suddenly spotting you walking down the hallway in the corner of his eye, not recognizing you as a patient here.

She must be new.

Niall debates on following after you, eventually letting his curiosity win and quietly tracing your steps, careful to not be noticed, even waiting to step in the elevator after it had already taken you to the 4th floor.

After some more following, he realized you had stepped into the room for newborns. He steps in the room after her, standing a few feet away from you as he stares looks at you, analyzing your features.

He looks away as you turn your head to face him. "Saw you moving in your stuff," he explains, realizing you know he was following you. "It was uh.." He pauses, "There was a lot of it." He moves to look at you again as you turn your head to look away from him, "Are you gonna be here for a while?"

He waits, expecting an answer to his question. Yet there was nothing.

"Hello?" He speaks up. No response again. He suddenly puts the pieces together in his head. "Oh," he sighs, "You're deaf."

Then suddenly you speak up.