bittersweet | larry stylinson

five | no; continue

five

{louis' pov}

     Harry was coughing up blood this morning; and he's getting weaker by the minute. But I know he's going to turn out okay. He's supposed to be okay. That's what I keep telling myself at least; and that's what I'll continue to keep telling myself, because it won't happen. He won't die. 

***

     Something's been pondering on in my mind for awhile now.. and it's sort of been bothering me. I think I'm starting to grow feeling for Harry. Everytime I look at him in his current state, it hurts me a little bit more inside. Whenever we touch, I shiver all over; and I think that's supposed to mean something.

     I hate denying the thought of my being gay. It's not that I'm afraid of being gay, it's what it'll do to Harry. He's already going through too much already, and if I confessed my feelings to him, it would only bring more trouble to him; more media to deal with, broken fans - and I don't think he's ready for that sort of stuff at the moment, assuming so, as he can barely blink without groaning in pain. 

     The doctor said there was a small chance for someone to live through a serious brain tumor like Harry's; and I'm still holding on to that shred of hope that he'll survive, and win this battle. I know he will deep down, but I just can't seem to put my finger on the fact of how I know for sure he'll survive this.

-

Harry mumbles things in his sleep.

Sometimes, it's my name, or he's crying out for his parents. 

     I think he gets nightmares. He hasn't told any one of us yet though. Maybe he's not planning to, but he knows he can tell the boys, and I anything right? As well as his parents. We're here to listen, but why is it that Harry can't understand that. Maybe he doesn't want to understand..

"Louis." Harry's voice interrupting me from my thoughts, "Yeah?" I immediately snapped up from my slouched position on the chair beside him.

"What are you thinking about?" He squinted his eyes at me as if everything was a blur, and he was simply trying to get his eyes to focus on me. 

"I'd like to know myself, most of the time I don't know." I chuckled.

"I'm serious." He shut his eyes, causing my smirk to slowly fade away. 

"Well, I was thinking about you, and how you are when you sleep." I furrowed my eyebrows, "Wow that sounded really perverted, and creepy. Sorry." I half-smiled.

"No; continue." He insisted. 

     "You mumble in your sleep, Haz. You call out for me... and your parents." I took a deep breath before continuing, "And, well, I'm worried about you. At your state, I can't help but think the worst, and hope for the best." I finished.

By the time I had finished, his eyes had opened up once more, inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, exhaling. His breathing getting a bit slower with each breath he took.

"Louis." 

I tilted my head to the side a bit, gesturing for him to continue.

"I..." His eyes slowly fell closed.

"Harry?" 

"Harry!" 

***

Harry's been in a coma for 4 days now. 

I'm worried sick for him. I haven't gone home since he fell into this coma, never leaving his side. I want to be there for him when he wakes up. 

     I cry almost every night; thinking about what Harry and I have been through, remembering the memories with him and I. And I can't help but think to myself that that will all be history to soon be forgotten in a matter of time, and I don't want it to turn out that way. 

     I think I'm depressed. But why feel sorry for myself, when I should be worrying about Harry. But the thing is, I'm always worrying about him, thinking about him day and night; and that's what's confusing to me. 

It's hard to wait around for something you know will never happen, but it's even harder to give up when it's everything you want.

But I just can't seem to put my finger on why I'm so madly in love with this boy.

***

a/n; finally updated!! :D