Larry One-Shots and Sick/hurt Fics

Louis Slips on Ice

So, it's been five years since I've posted! I'd like to think my writing is better. My sister helped edit this, so it's much better than the first draft. Hope you enjoy it. Oh, and happy birthday, Harry!  :)  2-1-24

Words: 2,574

My head is swimming. I can barely move. One thing is for certain. I am not in control of my body. Did he put something in my drink? My eyes close against my will, but resistance is futile. Gravity forces my head back against the sofa, and sleep tries to take ahold of me.

"Relax, Louis. Just relax," Matt says. Somehow, I'm not so sure Harry sent him to tend to me. Is it a stretch to fear for my life? Am I overreacting? I'm not sure how long I'm passed out for, but when I come to, a pair of lips flood my vision, and they're about to crash against mine.

I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out.

Yesterday

I probably look like an idiot, but I can't help the goofy grin that's remained on my face since waking this morning. Today marks a whole 26 days of being without Harry, which is much longer than our two-week rule. But Harry's touring schedule and mine didn't work out that way.

Until now.

Today I'm meeting him at the airport because our next touring destinations happen to be just minutes away from each other. So, of course we're going to make use of the proximity.

Looking out the window of the black BMW, my driver tells me to be careful because it's icy. It's a dreary wintery day, the fog making it hard to see too far in front of you. He parks the car and gets out to open my door for me. I tell him that's not necessary, but he insists.

Harry's plane has just landed and is taxiing on the runway. This is it! It's time. Tonight, he has a concert, and I'm excited to attend. The door opens, and I see him step down the stairs and onto the pavement. He's dressed in only a gray sweatshirt while I'm in my warmest, puffiest coat since I hate the cold. Harry will probably make fun of me, but I don't care.

Harry grins widely and waves when he finally sees me. I wave back and head towards him. But it's taking too long. I can't wait to have his strong arms around me, holding me tight. So, against my driver's wishes, I run to him.

Which isn't my best idea.

My sneakers thud against the sidewalk. The cold air whooshes past my ears, and I wish I was wearing ear muffs. "Harry!" I yell and keep running.

I'm only ten feet away when I skid, losing traction. My shoes slip on some black ice and I find myself falling to the ground. I hit the floor with my hands outstretched to break my fall, but my knees take the brunt of it. Harry's already at my side, his eyes wide with concern.

"Louis!" Harry cries. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I say. "I'm good." He smells of cinnamon and gummy bears, and I sigh as I realize how much I've missed him.

He helps me stand, and once I straighten myself out, I feel it. I'm not as okay as I thought. "Oh, fuck. Ow."

"What's the matter?" Harry says, gripping me tighter. 

"It's my knee." I lift my pant leg to examine the area. It's a little bruised, but hopefully that's all.

Harry turns to the crew behind him that is still disembarking the plane. "Can I get the medic?"

"It's probably fine, Harry," I tell him, even though I'm not really sure myself. It's still throbbing.

A woman greets us and checks on my knee with a flashlight since the sun has started to set. "It looks like it might be a little bruised. I think you're okay, but if it doesn't feel better tomorrow, I'd get it checked out."