I wake up later in a hotel room. I hold my head, groaning. I have no idea what hotel I'm in or who took me in. I hear feet shuffling against the forest colored carpet and a figure crouches next to me.

"Hey," a familiar voice whispers, "are you okay?" I just hold my throbbing head. "Hey," it presses.

"I-I'm not sure... Gimme a sec," I slur, my voice laced with fatigue. I take a moment to assess my status. My stomach isn't in pain anymore, I just have cloudy vision and a bad headache.

"Okay. I'm right here," the voice assures me softly. What's killing me is I know I've heard that voice somewhere before. I just can't see the person. Who is it? My half brother? My step-brother? My cousin?

After a few minutes, I see better, although not well without my glasses.

"Hey, do you happen to have my glasses?" I ask quietly.

"Yeah. Here, babe," the voice replies, handing me the thick, black frames. I slide them on my face and blink, looking around the room. It's already night time? How long was I out? I turn and my hand flies to my mouth.

Louis Tomlinson gives me a small smile and a wave.

"Hi," he greets.

"H-hi," I stammer. He reaches out and ruffles my hair. I raise an eyebrow.

"Hey, there are some things the, uh, doctor wanted me to tell you," he informs me, retracting his hand and looking solemn. The goofy grin disappears instantly. I get worried.

"Yeah?" I press, inviting him to continue. He looks around before sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing my hand. I raise an eyebrow. This definitely doesn't seem like the normal Louis to me. I've never seen him this serious before.

"Let's prop you up first," Lou says, snapping out of a trance. I lift my head up and he sets the pillow against the baseboard. I lean back into the pillow and he grabs my hand again. It's much more comfortable now.

"Mkay. What did the doctor say?" I cough quietly.  He inhales deeply and squeezes my hand.

"Um, your step-father... passed in a car accident."

My eyes get wide and I feel them tearing up. There's no way... He squeezes my hand.

"They, uh, told your dad about the situation. He said he doesn't want you. He's taking your younger brother with him," he adds. I break down and start sobbing. At this point, I don't even care that I'm ugly crying. Louis moves closer to me and wraps his arms around me. After a moment of hesitation, I wrap my arms around his torso and cry into his shirt. He just sits there, stroking my hair.

Eventually, I stop crying and he kisses my forehead. I lay back down again. I think of how horrible I must look right now. My normally hazel eyes are probably green like they usually turn when I cry. They're bloodhot and they hurt. I see the wet spots where I cried on his shoulder and I feel embarrassed.

"You should get some sleep, hon," he tells me, brushing my hair out of my eyes. I sniffle.

"Whose bed am I in? How are they gonna sleep?" I croak, pushing myself up urgently. I wince in pain and Louis lowers me back down. He takes my glases off and sets them on the nightstand.

"You're in me and Harry's bed. I don't think he'll mind and I know I don't. I'll tell the boys the story when they get home," he promises. I sigh.

"Then who was with you in the car?" I inquire, remembering the second person.

"Eleanor," he responds. "She's on vacation for two weeks with Danielle, so we're taking them with us on tour." He looks at me. "What's your name?" he asks.

"Maddy," I reply. I start to feel really tired.

"Pretty," he mumbles.

"How long are you staying here?" I ask sleepily.

"Five days," he replies as I drift off to sleep.

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