❝You look sexy in pink.❞ ❝I prefer the terms beautiful or pretty, but thanks.❞
Or the one where Louis is a short tempered jackass, who's forced to go to a yoga class by his therapist, where he meets Harry; his flamboyant teacher, who seems to love...
Dedication: harrykittenfluff because you're so sweet and take the time to message and comment. And I really appreciate all the feedback guys, so thank you so much x
You guys are amazing, 7k really? I love you all so much, you're so amazing!
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When Louis first woke up, he wasn't as confused as they always say you are. Once looking around at his surroundings; televisions playing newsreels, random chairs all over the place, a tray filled with apple juice and pudding, he recognized where he was. His body was clad in a thin gown that made his backsides shiver as the breeze hit him from the opened window, and he was laying upon a single bed, that must've carried a whole lot of other bodies; dead or alive. He tried moving around a bit, but groaned once realizing that his arm had an IV stuck on it and his left leg was hoisted up in a strap thingy, that you usually see on shows.
If it wasn't obvious enough, Louis was in a hospital.
The last thing he could remember was falling from a tree, one that he was practically pressurized into climbing in the first place. Everything after that was blank, and he practically shuddered at the realization that his body eventually hit the ground, and the impact it made must've been harsh, considering his condition right now.
Louis tried sitting up a bit more, using the palms of his hands to help him. However, he winced once moving his right shoulder, instantly feeling a jolt of pain shoot through his body. He stopped and hesitantly moved the sleeve up and away from his shoulder, staring wide eyed at the scene. A large, white bandage wrapped around his arm and he could see some oozes of dry blood stained across his arm. Placing the sleeve back down, he looked around the room idlesly.
No, he didn't expect someone to be sitting besides him all night, (preferably Harry), holding his hand and waiting for him to wake up. Albeit, that did sound quite ravishing, yet didn't seem that realistic in his life. That's why an empty chair besides him didn't faze him much, but maybe actually seeing someone worried about him would make his self esteem boost a tad more.
So, he waited for someone to make an appearance. Until then, he busied himself by watching news about Donald Trump and his campaigning, something he felt quite dreadful and stuffed spoon after spoon of chocolate pudding down his throat. Despite it looking like cafeteria food, the meals here sure we're delicious.
Louis was in the middle of testing out whether his tongue could reach the bottom of his chin, (it could not), when he heard the door crack open. Instantly, he croaked his head up and slurped his tongue back into his mouth, watching how a pair of tennis shoes clacked against the floor. In came a familiar man with dirty blonde hair, glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose and a tee shirt clinging against his torso.
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