Louis sat down under the dim hospital lights fixing the sheets over Harry's shoulders. He took his hand gingerly, afraid the wrong move would make him shatter to pieces. He looked so fragile. His head kept sending him back to Bringham Cabin, the memories of happiness clouded his mind, his wrong decision hunted him. He kissed the back of the younger boy's knuckles letting the tears flow. After hours of fighting back, of keeping his composure for the other lads, he couldn't take it anymore. He still hoped every passing minute that Harry would miraculously open his eyes and flash Louis that perfect crooked smile. As he moved a curl from his damp forehead something warm overcame him, making his breath hitch. He slid his hand down cupping Harry's cheek tenderly and pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes. He embraced the warm feeling that fluttered in his stomach, finally accepting what it was. He just wished he had realized it before. Before Harry was free falling.