take care of me // larry au

03

Harry plops himself down on the chair beside the bed, the one his mum and Zayn had sat in during their visits. Louis tried it out himself but it was lumpy and uncomfortable, so he sticks to the slightly less lumpy and uncomfortable bed.

"I'm Harry, by the way," Harry says. "In case, you know, this wasn't enough." He gestures to his nametag and then gives Louis another blidingly sweet grin. "So, broken leg, then? That's why you're in here?"

"Obviously." Louis says, eyes moving to the cast on his leg. There's a giant, too detailed cock drawn on it from Zayn. Zayn had grinned while drawing it, and afterwards he'd said proudly, "It's an exact replica of Liam's dick. Look, even the veins are accurate."

"So, how'd it happen?" Harry asks, leaning forward a bit, arms resting on his knees. The movement made his volunteer shirt hang down a bit, revealing a tattoo of a banner with the word ''LOVE'' in it.

"Um," Louis licks his dry lips. "A drunken skateboarding accident."

Harry seems to find this delightful. "Really?" he asks, eyes wide. "What happened?"

And for some reason Louis ends up going into extreme detail with the retelling of the story, exaggerating his own skateboarding abilities a bit, and then going a bit overboard with the description of the wounds he'd gotten. There really hadn't been that much blood, but still.

Harry's eyes widen even more, and he winces in sympathy, and Louis can't stop himself.

"I'll probably have a really cool scar, at least," Louis finishes. "Not that that really makes any of this any better."

"I take it you hate it here, then." Harry guesses.

Louis nods and shrugs. "It's not exactly ideal."

He nods in agreement. "I hate this place." he admits.

Louis cocks his head to the side, frowning. "Then why do you volunteer here?"

Harry looks lost and panicked for a moment, and Louis waits for him to answer.

"It's for school," he says finally. "I, um, got in some trouble and the only way to stop myself from getting severely punished was to, um, agree to volunteering."

He's lying. Louis doesn't know Harry at all, really, but he can tell. Harry is a shit liar, and he rubs his hands on his jeans while he talks, and his eyes dart nervously between both of Louis's, like he's aware of the fact that Louis can see right through him.

Louis takes pity on him. "That must suck," he says, going along with it. "For how long?"

Harry shrugs. "Who knows," he says. "But whatever, it's not that bad. How long are you here for?"

"Two weeks," Louis answers. "They've got to do surgery on my leg, or something."

"That'll be another scar you can use to impress the girls." Harry points out.

Louis bites his lip and lowers his eyelashes a bit. "Or the guys," he says in a lower voice. "What about you, Harry? You got a thing for scars?"

Louis can see Harry swallowing, can see his Adam's apple bob while he does it. Louis followed the movement, eyes travelling to the two crosses with the letters M and K that were tattooed on his chest, just beside the love banner.

"I have to go," he says suddenly, standing up. "My break's over, sorry."

And then he's practically running out of the room, door slamming loudly behind him. Louis isn't sure if he wants to laugh or if he wants to take his words back so Harry would have stayed.

But a few seconds later the door opens again and Harry asks, "Can I see you tomorrow?"

Louis shrugs apathetically while his mind screams yes, God, please. "Whatever; it's not like I have anything better to do."

There's Harry's sunshine smile again, the one that makes Louis feel as warm as his green eyes do, which is just sort of completely ridiculous, really. "Brilliant. See you, Louis."

After he's gone, Louis sits there, staring at the door, for a long time. There is something wrong with him, definitely, because Harry was his type completely, lookswise; but personalitywise? No way. Louis didn't go for people like that. Louis preferred cynical humour, confidence and smirks.

Not too cheerful smiles, dorky laughs and boys who apparently have no idea just how attractive they are. And yet..

Louis sighs. He'd be calling Zayn right now, if he had his phone. But he doesn't and he can't remember Zayn's number by memory, so he's just going to have to wait until Zayn comes to visit him tomorrow with Liam.

Until then, he picks his book up and tries to get back into reading, not thinking about the way the dark ink on Harry's skin had looked, or about sucking a mark onto his chest just above one of the many tattoos he seems to have.