A Little More Difficult (Hybrid!Louis, Gifted!Harry, AU Larry Stylinson! *COMP*)

Chapter Twenty. (20.)

Louis' point of view.

I roared in pain, shifting back into the form of mid-shift. I still had my canines and my tail, but other than that, I was human. The blood began to pour out of my wound.

In a game of death, you have two choices. You can either live to see tomorrow, or you can go to see yesterday. It's always a struggle to chose. Yesterday could have been better than today, but you never know if it would have been as good as tomorrow if you don't live to see the future. In the game of life, you always have a choice. Choice after choice after choice. In a way, the game of life doesn't have to be a struggle.

If someone who had been wishing for death for a long while, and finally was able to receive it, would you not take it in full grasp?

I had never given much thought to how I would die. Actually, I had. I've spent nights and days wondering about what would happen if I had jumped in front of that bus when it was going full speed down a hill. When getting myself two sleeping pills for an easier sleep, I wondered silently what the outcome would be if I took a handful more to sleep permanently. Would I be able to feel the small capsules of chemicals working it's way to my heart and slowly being the end of my existence, making my blood thicker and making it clot and swell, and stop pumping? But this wasn't suicide.

This was happening now, right here. I could feel the blood leaving my body, I could see the crimson red spilling over me and onto the carpet with each pulse of my heart, even with eyes foggy, I could see Would I feel the life and the hope - if I had had any when I did - drain out of me like a cup of water being flipped upside down - all at once? Or would it be a subtle drop, like falling in love.

Love. The reason I've held onto hope. Seeing him, chestnut hair and green eyes, makes my heart constrict. The feeling of dying, was it the same as falling in love? Would it be the same as I fell for him, sudden, and breath taking? A sweep you off of your feet relieve that makes contentment and relaxation flow through you, that makes you feel amazing, that makes you feel happy. Happy, as happy as someone can be. That's what he makes me. But that's also what the thought of death makes me. It makes me happy.

In the game of life, sometimes you have to lose. Losing is part of life, but what would I be losing? I didn't have to think to know.

A loving, supporting family. A future. A present. Harry.

Dying in the place of someone I loved, seems like a pretty good way to go. In a way, I was dying in the place of someone I love. I was dying in the place of the old me, the one held under boxes and shelves of disappointment and gallons of tears, and this me wasn't that me. I loved Harry. The me that I am now loved him, the me that I was loved him, the me that I will be, would be, loved him. Every part of me, including the past, the present, loved him.

My thinking was paused by me giving a week cough. Blood spat out of my mouth. If it was any body else, I would have opened death with weak arms, but in this case, I had to fight. Because Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. He had been my only reason to put up any effort in a fight in so long.

Sally's bare foot was on my throat, making it so I couldn't breath. It hurt me too much to try, so I lay limp. My vision was weak, and black spots began to form in my form of vision, Sally's face growing blurry due to tears leaking out the side of my face and the fact that my eyes were slowly closing.

In a natural reaction, I lifted my hands feebly up to try to pry her foot off my neck. My tries her futile, it didn't work.

I gasped for air, but failed. Sally looked down at me, writhing in pain. "I told you I'd be the one to kill you. This is what you get for challenging me, Louis Tomlinson. How does it feel to be the weakest one, Lion boy?"

This isn't the end, is it? All of this work for nothing. All of this pain, all of these 'fighting for what I deserve' battles. But maybe this is what I deserve, why fight?

Harry! I called out in the mind link. And then my eyes shut, and everything was black.

____

I was sitting next to Zayn at the extra hospital like room that he had hidden in his guest room as he stitched Louis up. Zayn was a doctor, and had a B.A and B.S degree. I sat worried, and afraid... and crying. You can't forget the crying. Lots of it.

"Hey Ha - FUCK. Guest room, now." Zayn had said stiffly. when I had carried Louis to his house thirty minutes before now and set him on the couch, sobbing and crying, barely being able to walk straight nonetheless carry a bleeding boy with a red with blood soaked towel around his waist tightly for 5 miles. "WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT HAPPENED!?"

"No time t-to explain; j-j-just make him b-better."

And so here Zayn was, stitching Louis up as I sit next to him, doing anything but staying still. Worrying, stressing, tapping my leg, pacing, crying, crying, crying.

Was it the right choice to bring him here? Did I - Did I... was I too late? It's not like I could bring him to a REAL doctor, he was in half lion form, and his blood was mixed with Lion and Kitten genes - he couldn't fucking go there. Was I too late?

This is all my fucking fault! I screamed in my mind. I couldn't see through the tears.

Zayn shifted into part dog form and began licking at Louis' wounds. I was bewildered, until I remembered Louis once telling me that Dog hybrid saliva healed wounds of Kitten hybrid wounds, and vise versa.

It was all too much. I blacked out.

I woke up to the worst thing in my life being said by Zayn looping over a limp and yet healed Louis.

"Time of Death; 8:34 p.m."