Stranger

Part 39

*Louis POV!*
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Outside the tattoo parlor, I take a look at my dainty wrist. The thin paper still covers it, fresh with the ink engraved into my skin. I want to peel it off, to finally look at the masterpiece underneath, but I can't ruin it.
I look at Harry, his eyes green and watery. He thinks I didn't see him tear up when he was getting his tattoo, but I wasn't fooled, he isn't the tough guy he says he is.
I walk over to him, and place my hands in his, stepping onto my tippy toes. I rub my nose against his chin, pushing his head up so I can look into his beautiful eyes.
"Haz, thank you for today, this was lovely" I whisper. He looks at me and smiles, before he softly places his lips onto mine.
We sit like that for moment, and in that moment, I forget about all my struggles. All my difficulties have seemed to vanish. But when I part from him, they wash back over me like a giant flood. I stumble back, in the realization we don't have much longer together. I know how optimistic Harry is, but I can't afford to think it's all rainbows and smiles when the path ahead of me is actually filled with storms.
"C'mon let's do something else fun" I say, tugging at his arm to pull him in my direction. I find it funny how consumed I am with Harry, how madly in love I am. Most would be spending their last days with family, but here I am spending it with a boy with smoldering green eyes and curly hair. He's so lovely and he's so mine.
"What do you want to do?" Harry asks, his brows furrowing in concentration.
"Can we get ice cream? I'm starving" I explain, hoping the pain in my stomach is hunger and nothing worse.
"What's the magic word?" Harry teases.
"Either by me ice cream or you'll never be fucked by me again " I demand, my sass on full effect.
"Yep well.. that'll do it. Not technically the magic word, but...um ..it'll work" he says, flustered by my words and how I'm smirking in his direction.
"I can't have sugary stuff I'm pretty sure, I can't remember what the doctor said" I say, and Harry's face softens. Ugh, I don't want him to treat me differently just because I most likely am gonna die.
"Love, why can't we get frozen yogurt, I usually do, it's pretty good. I know you like you're chicken and all but I'm a big fan of salad and all that, maybe give it a shot?" Harry asks, his eyes questioning me response.
"Absolutely not, none of that will be eaten by me. I'll most likely be eating pizza from here on out to be honest Harry" I answer snickering as he looks sarcastically disappointed.
We drive to a frozen yogurt shop, and Harry gets out to get what we need. I stay in the car, obviously too lazy to get out. He hurrys back, two cups in hand. He opens the car door and sits down.
"Love could you feed it too me, I'm just feeling weak" I say, and Harry's lips thin and press together in a straight line.
"Of course I will" he answers back, offering a scoop. Honestly, I was kidding when I asked, but I'm not gonna oppose it now.
He scoops the treat into my mouth, and I lick the edges of my mouth in delight, letting out a small smile.
"Okay my turn to feed you" I demand, taking the yogurt from Harry's hands. I scoot over closer to his car seat because my arms aren't long enough to reach across.
I put the spoon up to his mouth, purposefully spilling some on the side of Harry's face. I drop the spoon, and grab his jaw in my hands.
"Come here" I whisper and he obliges. I carefully lick the frozen food off his face, before planting a wet kiss on his lips. I crawl over to his lap, and rest my bum on his thighs.
I spin around as quick as I can when I hear a loud beeping noise coming from behind me. Ashamefully, I had honked the car horn with my backside. Harry didn't seem to mind though, his eyes just kept trailing over me.

"I can't believe that happened" Harry says, exasperated from laughing so much. We had promptly driven off after the unfortunate incident, but had continued to laugh for at least ten minutes.
My stomach began to churn from laughing, and not in a good day anymore.
"Harry pull over" I demand, looking at him.
"Why, can't it wait?" He asks.
"Just do it, okay?" Harry goes along, stopping along the shoulder of the road. I unbuckle and hurl myself from the car, vomiting. I vomit every last thing I had eaten the previous week. I had never been so humiliated in my life. The man I love, watching a show of everything I had ate except it all smushed together coming out.
"I'm sorry you have to see this" I muster out, before upchucking more.
"Lou we need to get you back to the hospital" Harry says, walking over to rub my back. I can feel the vomit on my shirt and face. I wish he never would have to see me like this, so sick and helpless.
I nod, and he picks me up and sets me back in the chair. He pulls an old grocery bag out from under the seat in case I need to hurl again. I did.

At the hospital, the first thing i do is shower. I had packed a few things of my own, and a few of Harry's things without him noticing. Well, I think he didn't notice. He might have and just not cared.
After my shower I slip one of Harrys shirts on, the thin black tshirt quite large on my small frame. The hemline reaches my mid thigh. I put on sweatpants and some warm socks to complete my hospital "look". In all honesty, I look terrible. Absolutely despicable. The shampoo here sucks, so my hair is matted, leaving me smelling and looking different.
I eventually drift off to sleep, even though it's only mid afternoon. Harry and I really hadn't done much besides get our tatoos....fuck. Our tattoos. Fuck fuck fuck. How did mine turn out? Fuck, I hope I didn't fucking ruin it My eyes shoot open, wide, examining the beautiful ink on my skin. I look at my wrist, to see the rope securely in place, same as it had been.
I look around the room to hopefully find Harry. I see him sitting peacefully in the chair in the corner, sleeping, small huffs escape his mouth.
"Psst, Harry. Psst" I whisper, making him stir. Slowly, he opens his eyes, and smiles at me. He grudgingly gets up to come see me closer. I pat the bed, motioning him to sit down.
"Harry can I see your tattoo?" I ask, and he pulls out his wrist. The anchor looks exquisite. Truly remarkable. I love it, and him. I love both the tattoos and both of us, together.
"Harry can you make me a promise?" I ask, quietly.
"Of course Lou, anything" he answers assuringly.
"If I die," Harry whimpers, "if I die, will you promise not to get another tatoo? Then this one would be more special" I explain in such a low whisper, I can barely hear myself. It's such a selfish thing to want, but I can't help I want this to be our thing.
"Absolutely, just you and me" Harry whispers, right as I feel my heart beat skyrocket and my palms start to sweat.