Sick and Injured-Louis

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Words: 4,004

Sorry this one is kinda long.  Thanks to 1storywriter for the suggestion!

"Okay, Louis, I think we're good. You can go now."

You can go now, Louis repeated in his head what his manager just told him and smiled. It was music to his ears. He hadn't eaten in over five hours and he had spent the last two recording his voice at the studio. The other boys had already left, having been done long before him. There were a few trouble spots that needed work and his vocal coaches wanted to give him their undivided attention.

Now that he was free to go, he got in the cab and was driven to his and Harry's 15-story apartment complex. It was a nice place to live and there were a lot of families with kids there, too. Harry and Louis loved watching the kids play outside from their living room window.

"That's gonna be us one day," Harry said, grinning up at Louis's face as they watched a family of four playing footie together outside.

"It will be, darling," Louis said. He, however, wasn't watching the family. Rather, he was staring at his beautiful husband, adoring the way Harry was looking at them. It made him melt.

The abrupt stop in front of his home brought him back to reality as he was pushed forward from his seat. He thanked the driver and got out of the car. It was a little past 7pm on a hot summer day, but luckily, the evening brought cooler temperatures.

He walked on the concrete and then onto the grass as he made his way towards the nearest staircase. They lived on the second floor, which they had requested, because it was just easier as they came and went all the time.

As he was walking, he wasn't looking at the ground, so he didn't notice the small pile of toys at his feet. He stepped on them awkwardly, which rolled his ankle violently. For once in his life, he hated those kids. He tested out his ankle, putting a little pressure on it, and since he felt like it wasn't too bad, he kept going. Limping slightly, he went forward, his eyes never leaving the grass.

Just another 20 yards or so and he'd make it. As he walked, it was getting more painful. He wondered if he'd actually sprained it or something. Once he made it to the staircase, he sighed. Why do we live on the second floor?

He placed his right hand on the railing as he stared them down in preparation. He lifted his bad ankle and placed it lightly on the first step, cringing as he put pressure on it, and immediately brought his good leg up a step, keeping his balance. It was painful, but not impossible. He tried again and managed to make it up the 10 steps.

Breathing heavily now, he quickly limped his way to his apartment, where he was greeted by the smell of something yummy cooking in the kitchen. A booming voice welcomed him home. "Hey, Lou! Supper's about ready. How was recording?" Harry asked. He was standing in front of the stove, a wooden spoon in his hand and an apron adorning his muscular form.

"Nice. What are we having?" Louis asked, trudging in on his bad ankle.

Harry narrowed his eyes in concern, his gaze roaming toward Louis's feet. "What happened? Why are you limping?"

Louis sighed. "I stepped on some toys outside the complex and I think I twisted my ankle." He made his way to the couch while Harry tore open the freezer door.

"Oh, poor baby!" Harry cried. "Here's a bag of frozen peas if it'll help." He walked over to the injured boy and placed the bag of vegetables on his ankle which was propped up on the coffee table. "How bad does it hurt?"

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