Right Where You Want Me (A Larry Stylinson fanfiction)

Chapter six: Care For Him

Harry:

   His face was flushed, turning purple and dark blue in some places. His eyes were puffy and red, facing the tiled bathroom floor. He was crumpled, holding his stomach. He looked like he was about to pass out, and the only think keeping him from falling over was his arm, which was wobbling in place on his knee as he held himself up.

Niall sighed in relief, leaving Louis’ battered form and walking swiftly past me. “I need to see you later. I’ll try and look for you,” he whispered, and then he was gone.

I frowned. A), I barely knew that guy Niall. All I knew was that he hung out with Louis. Why did he want to see me later? B), why would he leave me here with Louis? He was hurt; why wasn’t he going to help?

“U-um, Lou,” I stuttered, crouching down and retrieving the bag of ice I’d dropped. Louis wouldn’t look up, continuing to cry. I made my way over to him, grabbing his wrists and gently breaking them away from his face. “Louis, what happened?”

Louis scooted back, falling into the bowl of the sink before raising himself back up. “L-leave me alone, Harry,” he muttered, jerking his hand out of my grasp and wiping his face. “Just g-go. I’m fine.”

I frowned, rolling my eyes. “Obviously you’re not, mate,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Let me help you.” He flailed around when I reached for him again, and I was getting fed up. “Louis Tomlinson, calm the hell down!”

This seemed to shock him, making him sit still with widened eyes. His lip trembled and tears streamed down his face, but he allowed me to touch him. He took a shaky deep breath. “H-Harry, I-I’m not meaning to c-cry in front of you. I’ll stop…” He took another breath. “I-I’m trying.”

“Don’t worry about it Louis,” I whispered, pulling his gray beanie off of his head. I ran my fingers through his hair, getting it out of his face. “I don’t mind you crying.” I really didn’t. At this point, all I wanted to do was get him to stop being upset so that I didn’t get upset as well. I didn’t like seeing people cry, but for some reason, I was willing to do anything if it meant that Louis wouldn’t.

“B-but I look like a child,” Louis defended weakly. He flinched as I pressed my hand to his stomach in attempt to try to find the spots where he was hurting. He kept talking as I checked him out. “There w-were three of them, Haz. I couldn’t…I couldn’t do anything.”

“I understand.” I grazed my finger across his forehead, trailing my thumb down to his cheek and then to his jaw. A large bruise took up the entire left side of his face, and I gently laid a bag of ice across the marking. “Do you know why they did this? Who was it?”

Louis’ hands snaked around my neck, his fingers winding through the hair on the nape of my neck. He’d done it subconsciously, I was sure, but I still got the uncomfortable butterflies. “It was Josh. And his friends. They’ve hit me before.”

I didn’t know who Josh was, but I nodded anyway. “For the same reason?” I got a quiet conformation. “And what is that reason?”

Louis pulled anxiously at my hair, shaking his head the slightest bit. Fear replaced the pain that was written on his face. “I don’t know,” he said quickly. “I-…” he sighed, ducking his head down. “I’m different.”

I raised an eyebrow, grabbing a few paper towels and dabbing the blood off of his busted lip. “Different…how? What do you mean?”

I stared up at Louis. I was in between his legs, my chest nearly pressed up against his. His hands were still in my hair, and I had let the towel drop to the floor, leaving my fingers to stroke his lips. We were in a very intimate position, I recognized. He looked so, so young and helpless.