Tattoos Together || Larry Stylinson

Chapter 1

I nodded, grabbed my backpack and headed for the exit. Harry followed me.

"May I ask you a question?"

"You just did." I replied, lifting an eyebrow.

He looked at me uncertainly. "oh"

"Just ask your question now, Harry." I looked at him sideways, amused. He blushed slightly.

"If I'm honest there are two." "Ask. Now." He should finally get down to business, although I liked his shyness.

He played with the ring on his finger and avoided looking at me. "Would you tell me your name? You know mine too now and..." "Louis." I interrupted the brunette to spare myself justifications for his question. We entered the door to the hallway that led to the secretary's office.

"Louis, this is very straightforward right now... but, do you take drugs? B-Because of the needle, you hid it in such shock as if you were afraid of... something. Maybe getting caught."

I giggled raspy. "And what if?" I asked, just to see his reaction. He looked at me with wide eyes.

"It is a sewing needle sweet cheeks."

"Don't try to fool me."

"Why should I? I'd love to show you, but actually the thing is stuck in my hand." I moved it demonstratively in front of his face.

He swallowed loudly, averted his face from me and seemed to regret his speculation directly. Then he raised his hand and tentatively knocked on the massive office door.

"Come in" I heard a familiar voice from inside. Harry hesitated for a moment and looked at me nervously as he clutched the door handle with a clenched fist so tight that his knuckles were visible, white under his skin.

"Paynooo" I greeted the secretary, when the door was finally opened.

I knew Liam from then. While I had continued school at my mother's request, Liam did an apprenticeship when he was sixteen. And now Liam was a secretary intern at my school and I was in my senior year.

Harry looked confused.

"How can I help you guys?" Liam asked professionally. With a preppy smile on his lips. I put my battered hand on the counter. Liam frowned. "Holy, Lou. So, what is that?" "Obviously my hand."

Liam rolled his eyes. "I can see that for myself, but how the hell did that happen?" He turned my wrist and watched it from all sides.

I shrugged my shoulders casually. "Unimportant."
"I don't think so." Liam looked at me punishingly. "Louis, we're going to tackle your problem first and then you will give me a detailed accident report for the insurance. No excuses."

I sighed annoyed. Harry stood quietly in the room, behind me, visibly feeling out of place. As if he felt the pain himself, he suddenly drew in a sharp breath as Liam dripped the disinfectant from a small vial onto my wound. I bit my lower lip to suppress a startled squeak.

"Why are you here anyway?" Liam asked Harry appraisingly. Shyly, Harry bowed his head and looked at the tips of his shoes.

"He thinks for some inexplicable reason to me that it's his fault." I answered for him. "What is going to actually happen now?" I asked addressed to Liam.

"You'll now sit on a chair in the hallway and wait for someone to come and pick you up and drive you to the hospital." He replied, counting the individual items on his list with his fingers.

Harry followed me as I took a seat on the besaid chair.

"Don't you have to go to class, darling?" "I...You know, I..." He stammered, embarrassed. "Come on, you?" I did not understand what was so difficult about answering in full sentence.