Once in a Lifetime ➳ Larry

chapter four

Chapter Four

 Harry feels like he's drowning. His throat clogs up as he gasps for breath. He flails his arms and twitches his legs, reaching for something to grasp. He thinks he's floating. Fuzziness fills his brain, almost like his skull is stuffed with raw cotton. He wants to open his eyes, but he can't gather up the strength.

A metallic taste lingers on his tongue, liquid gurgling up his gullet. He chokes and wheezes for air. Cold hands caress his cheeks, but his vision is still as black as the night sky. Icy fingertips touch his lips.

"Harry?" he hears distantly, echoing in his head. "You okay? Wake up, please."

Harry thinks he might be in Heaven. Apparently God has an angelic Yorkshire accent.

"Rose?" the voice continues. "Come back to me, love."

His eyelids feel heavy. Eventually, light flickers through his long lashes. He tries to choke down the liquid that slurps between his lips.

"There you go," the voice hushes. "Good boy."

Harry squints. His blurry vision begins to clear. He sees the outline of Louis's face, a blob of pallid skin and silver eyes.

"Lou?" Harry croaks, fluid swallowing the last syllable of his name.

He's sat on the sofa in Louis's cottage, propped upright with a throw pillow. Louis holds a glass of red liquid in his hand, a straw nudging towards Harry's mouth. Blood, he soon concludes. It drips down his chin.

Harry swats the cup away and scowls.

"You've got to drink it, darling," Louis sighs. "You're starving yourself."

Harry whimpers weakly. "No."

Louis tilts his head. "Please, Harry. I don't want you to faint again."

Once again, the straw slots between Harry's plump lips. Out of instinct, he sips. The blood tastes warm and bitter. He doesn't like it, but his animalistic needs take over his morals. He can't stop. He slurps until the straw chokes at the bottom of the glass, gathering nothing but air. It's empty.

"Good job," Louis praises, rubbing Harry's back soothingly. He sets the glass on a nearby coaster that rests on the coffee table.

Harry grimaces. "I just drank blood."

"You did," Louis confirms with a nod.

"Did you— did you kill someone?" he asks timidly. He reaches up to touch the excess blood that oozes from the corners of his mouth. He wipes it away with the back of his hand.

"No," Louis chuckles. "I had an emergency supply in the fridge."

"Emergency supply," Harry repeats slowly.

"Precisely. Although, that was my last bottle."

Harry nods slowly. He's still wearing his Fool's Gold thong. Glitter and oil glistens on his tummy. The last thing he remembers is riding in Louis's car, and then blackness.

"Wha' happened?" he croaks.

Louis frowns, settling a hand on Harry's bare thigh. Their knees knock together. Despite the couch's large size, Louis insists on sitting extremely close to Harry. To protect him, perhaps. His tiny feet brush against Harry's ankles as he speaks.

"Your cravings kicked in at the club. You passed out in the car. I had to carry you inside," Louis recalls. "You went completely unconscious. Scared me half to death."