Tattoos Together || Larry Stylinson

Chapter 2

"Yes, gentlemen... What I see looks pretty promising." She smiled contentedly when she looked into my face. My relief seemed very obvious.

"I'm not going to give you any certain confirmation that it's getting normal again, it's too early for that, but everything went smoothly until now." She gave me a friendly wink.

"That sounds great, doesn't it?" Mark patted me on the shoulder encouragingly. I just nodded with a smile on my face.

"If you're feeling good, you can go home tomorrow morning. At the moment we can only wait for everything to heal. Then we start slowly with physiotherapy."

"Tomorrow?" I asked and felt the corners of my mouth sink back down. I didn't want another night in the hospital. I hated sleeping anywhere but at home. And I hated not doing anything, feeling useless.

"Yes, young man, one more night is definitely needed."

I looked at my stepfather for help. He just shrugged.

"I'm going to die of boredom." I groaned annoyed. "And I'm sure you won't Lou." Mark replied without being asked.

He had lied. I was incredibly bored. The TV in my room was broken, the WIFI was bad and my only occupation was scribbling on a pad that a nurse had given to me. I knew Mark's shift would start in an a few minutes, then I'd be alone. Then there wouldn't even be someone to talk to.

"Don't put on such a sad face Louis. Tomorrow will be a good day. I have to go now, good night already."

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room when the door closed behind my stepfather. I bit my lip, wondering what to do for the rest of the day.

Listlessly I painted a butterfly and listened attentively to the scratching of the pencil on the paper when there was a knock on the door. I looked at the clock. It was too early for dinner, which suggested that Mark had left something in my room.

"What did you forget, dorki?" I asked loudly with a smug smile which, however, disappeared when the door was opened and, to my surprise, it wasn't Mark who stuck his head through it.

I didn't say anything for a moment. Unfortunately, he didn't either, which put both of us in an uncomfortable situation.

My gaze was totally fixed on his green eyes, which shortly afterwards narrowed a little and revealed sweet laugh lines at the outer corners. "Hey Louis William" He greeted.

I frowned. Nobody addressed me by mentioning my middle name. "Don't look at me so stupidly. You forbade me to call you 'Lou', do you remember?" His grin grew a little wider. He seemed proud of his smart question. I shook my head in amusement.

"Can I come in now or do you still hate me? It wouldn't be a problem, of course, and it certainly wouldn't hurt me, but then I'd have to eat all of this alone and I doubt it's healthy." He held up a large white plastic bag.

I put my head on my own shoulder and just looked at Harry for a few seconds. "Okay, but you'll have to answer some questions for me, little one."

He giggled happily, nodded and closed the door behind him. Then he stood there, in the middle of the room, a little awkwardly.

"Uhm-well, I just went to the ice cream parlour before I went here and got you a spaghetti ice cream. I didn't know, so ... what you like. I think you can't go wrong with spaghetti ice cream, right?"

"You are crazy Harry. Why?"

"Don't you like Spaghetti? Oh, I'm sorry, I thought..." He said with a broken voice, looking at the bag in his hand in disappointment.

"Such nonsense, I didn't mean that. I wanted to know why you are doing this for me? I'm the asshole that has kicked you out more or less twice now, do you remember?"

His carefree smile was back. Relief.

"Dunno. I'm not resentful." He put the bag on my bed and unpacked the contents.

A little later I found a bowl of ice in my hand. Harry eyed it critically. "Next time I have to take a cooler bag with me." He mumbled, still eyeing the ice, which had actually already melted properly. Then his gaze wandered to me.

"Come on." I patted the mattress next to me. There was an uncomfortable wooden chair in the room, too, but my clothes were lying on it and it would have been kind of weird to talk across the room.

I had questions.

He nodded and did what I said, but looked like he was uncomfortable. I had very little interest in yet another period of silence, which is why I started right away. "So, Harry, let's start at the beginning: How did you find out which hospital I am in?"

He had just put a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, but then had to grin mischievously. It was amazingly adorable how his cheeks now protruded when he smiled. Like a hamster.

"Liam told me"

"Just that easy? Never, you must have done something for him. what was it?" I knew Liam, I knew how he usually acted.

"Well, maybe I gave him my older sister's phone number."

"I hope it's not a problem for her." I worried.

"Oh no, Gemma would do anything for me." "You're very manipulative, kid." "She can always rely on me, too. It's based on mutuality. Sibling love, you know?"

I nodded. "And how can it be that you come back exactly when no one is there, I'm bored and you also bring Ice cream with you, as if you had suspected it all?

"You know, it could be, that I told your father we are very good friends. We exchanged numbers this morning and... yeah, he wrote me a message an hour ago, suggesting I could come over and keep you company."

His statement disappointed me in a strange way. So, Mark had initiated all of this...

I watched from the corner of my eye as Harry picked up the sketchbook and traced the outline of the butterfly with his fingertips in admiration.

"He's not my real father." I mumbled through clenched teeth and maybe sounded a little too sad.

My statement made Harry spin around in shock. Still holding the pad in his hand, he worriedly placed a palm on my upper arm. I would have to get used to his apparently great need for physical contact.

"Do you want to talk about it?" "It's alright. Maybe someday, not now Harry."

He raised the corner of his mouth and let me know that he understood. "Louis, I took my laptop with me, let's watch a movie."