for angels to fly | lwt + hes.

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

‘I need your help.’

The words sent a cold chill running down Louis’ spine and he was throwing off his sheets and scrambling out of bed before they even fully registered.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ He asked, voice full of panic. Because he knew Harry wasn’t calling him up to ask him if he should separate his whites from his colours or for directions to the nearest bus station; there was something wrong. Louis could hear it in the way he spoke; slower than usual, his syllables running together.

‘Louis…’

‘Harry, what is it? Are you okay?’ Louis pulled on a pair of jeans over his boxers and searched through his drawers until he found an old hoodie and yanked it on over his head. 

‘I’m scared.’

At the whispered words Louis paused, his heart jumping into his throat. ‘Harry,’ he said, trying to keep his voice steady, ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m in the bathroom. I feel all… funny.’

‘What bathroom? Where are you?’

There was a pause on the end of the line and Louis almost lost it completely before Harry spoke again.

‘I’m in a hotel,’ Harry managed. ‘He… I don’t know what was in my drink but… Louis, I don’t feel well.’

‘Okay, it’s okay, love,’ Louis tried to inject his voice with a calm that he wasn’t feeling. ‘I need you to tell me what hotel and what the room number is and I’ll come get you, okay?’ He practically ran to the living room, grabbing his wallet off the bench and jamming it into his back pocket. ‘Harry? Please, I need you to concentrate.’

‘Louis.’ The sound of Harry groaning his name, all soft and pathetic and so incredibly vulnerable almost had Louis bolting out of the front door right then, but he only clenched his hand into a fist and took a deep breath.

‘Harry, what hotel are you at?’

‘It’s the Crowne Plaza.’

‘Okay, alright, but I need you to tell me what the room number is, Harry. Can you remember what room you’re in?’

‘I’m sorry.’ He sounded like he was about to cry and Louis swallowed hard against the panic that was threatening to overtake him.

‘It’s okay, Harry, it’s alright. I just need you to concentrate.’

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, before, ‘It’s the tenth floor. It’s… 108.’

Almost sighing with relief, Louis rested his head on the wall next to the front door, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. ‘I’m coming to get you, okay? I need you to stay where you are. Is the door locked?’

‘Yes,’ Harry whispered.

‘I won’t be long. Just stay there. I’m going to hang up now, alright?’

‘Please, Louis.’

‘I know love, I’m coming.’ Louis’ voice cracked and he hung up before he lost his composure completely. He wrenched the front door open and bolted down the hallway to the lift, already dialling another number on his phone.

‘C’mon, c’mon…’ He muttered under his breath as he watched the numbers above the lift door climb higher and higher, his foot tapping an impatient rhythm on the floor. 

The ringing in his ear stopped and was replaced by Zayn’s sleepy voice. ‘What?’ He groaned, ‘Lou, it’s three in the morning.’

‘Zayn! Harry just called me and he needs me and I need to get to the Crowne Plaza hotel and I need you to drive me and I’m freaking out; I don’t know what to do, please tell me what to do.’