[A/N] Thanks to all of you who voted for this in the 1DBromanceAwards! I was kind of... shocked when I won, considering there were several other one shots that were a crap ton better than mine. So yeah... THANK YOU!
"Can I drive?"
"Nope."
"Mmm…Can I drive… now?"
"Not a chance."
That’s how the past ten minutes of the car ride had been going with my boyfriend. We sat in Louis’ silver Lamborghini on the way back from Nando’s. I’d tried to talk Louis into letting me drive home, and even though we were already halfway back to our flat, I still tried. But much to my disappointment, my attempts were pointless.
I let out a huff and crossed my arms, "Why can’t I drive?"
"Because, silly boy, the car is mine," Louis explained patiently. "Drive your own car… Are you buckled?"
"But I want to drive yours," I insisted, nonchalantly buckling my seatbelt.
"Why on earth do you want to do that?" Louis laughed.
"Just to say that I did," I shrugged.
"You’ve only had your license for like… three months, Haz," Louis sighed.
I rolled my eyes, "But I’m still a good driver. I’m not gonna crash your baby."
Louis affectionately stroked the steering wheel, "I still don’t wanna take the chance."
I scowled at him, "I swear. You love this thing more than you love me."
Louis pulled into our driveway, "You make it sound like we’re married. Get your arse outta my car."
I gaped at him in shock for a moment before kicking open the door angrily and snapping, "I’m glad you assured me that you love me more than your car," I slammed the door before he had time to respond.
Throwing his car door open before slamming it closed apparently upset him, because he was out of his side in an instant, "Harry Edward Styles," I continued walking towards the front door of our flat, ignoring him. He continued, "Why are you acting like you’re eight years old?"
"Just shut up Louis," I snapped, storming up to our door and fumbling in my pockets for my key.
He was suddenly right behind me, "Move, mate," he unlocked the door and I pushed passed him and into the flat. He didn’t make a move to tell me that I was indeed worth more to him than his car, so I wasn’t going to speak to him until he did. I heard him toss his keys onto the counter and then flop down on the couch with a sigh, "Where are you going?"
I didn’t answer him. Instead, I stomped into my room and slammed the door and locked it. I walked angrily to my bed and punched my pillow, then flung myself onto the bed facedown in the sheet. Only I had my face on the side where Louis sleeps, so of course it smelled like him, which just made me angry. I pushed myself back up off the bed and sat on the floor and leaned my head back against the mattress. I glared at my closet for awhile, before slowly closing my eyes.
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I must have fallen asleep, and I woke up with a sore neck. Standing stiffly, I stretched and considered climbing back into bed. I glanced down at the clock. It was a little before midnight, and my bed did look rather nice. But for some dumb reason I wanted Louis to come to bed with me. I’d become rather used to curling up against him to sleep, and apparently needed him with me to fall asleep now. I was pitiful. So even though I was mad at him, I unlocked my door and wandered out into the living room to find him.
The television was still on, but Louis was conked out on the couch in front of it, his feathery hair in disarray. My heart fluttered slightly at the sight of him. He was even beautiful when he slept. I then mentally punched myself for being so weak. I was supposed to be angry with him. And then the idea hit me.
I walked quickly but quietly over to the counter to where Louis had tossed his keys to his car. Sure enough, they were still there, and I smiled evilly to myself. Snatching up his keys, I tiptoed over to the front door, unlocked it, and slid out of it as quietly as possible. As soon as I shut it gently behind me, I sprinted down the sidewalk to Louis’ car as quickly as possible. All I wanted was a quick spin, and I’d be careful. I slid into the seat, adrenaline racing in my veins. As I started the car, I figured I’d do what Louis always did and buckled my seatbelt, even though I hated the bloody things.
I backed the car out of the drive, and began driving down the road. A thrill raced through me, but slight panic did as well. Louis would be pretty angry if he woke up and found out I’d taken his car without his permission. Yet I continued to drive, not really sure where I wanted to go before I returned the car back. This could be the only time you get to drive this car, I thought to myself. I just made random turns here and there, and ended up on a long stretch of a two way road. As I drove, I could feel the need to drive the car dying down, so I figured I’d return home before Louis woke up and realized I was gone. As I went to make what was probably an illegal u-turn, I saw bright headlights from the passenger side. My eyes widened, and I moved quickly to put the car in reverse so I could back the car out of the middle of the road. Yet I wasn’t fast enough. For some reason, the car didn’t slow, and I was plowed into.
I’m pretty sure the car rolled about three times, the air filled with the sound of scraping and twisting metal, shattering glass as the window shattered, showering me with glass. My head smacked against something, probably the steering wheel, multiple times, and the car finally came to a rest in the grass. I felt confused and disoriented, and attempted to look for the other car, yet it felt as if the blood was rushing to my head. I spotted the car, but it was at an odd angle… upside down. And then I realized, Oh. I’m upside down.
The panic then set in, and I thrashed against my seatbelt, unbuckling carefully and sliding myself to the glass covered…roof. I squirmed half out of the car before a searing pain in my ankle made me stop. Somehow, my ankle had gotten trapped under the seat. I whimpered and twisted my head to take in my surroundings.
"Help!" I called to the car sitting in the middle of the road, both of its headlights busted out. I couldn’t see anyone making a move to get out of it.
I groaned and dropped my head into the tall grass I was in. Who knew how long it would take for someone to find me out here? I was all alone, hurt, and I really just wanted someone to pet my hair and tell me I was going to be okay. I wanted Louis. I began panicking again, desperately kicking my legs in attempt to free myself. I cried out in agony as pain shot up my leg. However, I didn’t stop. I still tried to yank my ankle free, but to no avail. I allowed myself to slump back to the ground, a frustrated sob escaping my lips, and blacked out.
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"Sir?" I felt hands on my neck. "I’ve got a pulse!"
"Louis?" I moaned at the loudness of the voice.
The voice shouted again, and I knew it wasn't Louis' "And he’s waking up! Get me some help over here, I think his ankle is stuck. Just a second, son, we’re gonna get your ankle free," I pushed my head up out of the grass to look at the owner of the voice. A fireman, it appeared. Lights flashed in the darkness all around me, and I gasped. The fireman’s eyes met mine, "You alright, lad? And get the ambulance ready, he’s got a nasty cut on his forehead. What’s your name, son?"
"Harry Styles…" I said hoarsely.
His eyes widened, "The Harry Styles? As in… One Direction? My God…"
Two other fireman, joined him with a strange looking tool, "We’re gonna wedge it over you here, just a second," one of them explained gently.
I felt a slight pressure on my back as they slid the tool inside the car, and heard a slight pop. The pressure on my ankle was released, and I breathed out a sigh of relief, attempting to squirm out of the car.
"Hold on there, Harry," arms reached under mine, dragging me gently from the car and helping me into a leaning position. "Get me a stretcher."
"No…" I said weakly. "No stretcher."
"We’re just going to use it to carry you over to the ambulance," the fireman explained gently.
"I don’t want to go to the hospital," I said firmly. "I- I’m eighteen. I can deny medical treatment. Just… do what you need to do by the ambulance, but I won’t go to the hospital."
The fireman raised his eyebrows at me, "Considering that head injury you got there, I’m surprised you’re forming full sentences, much less arguing with me."
"I’m not going to the hospital," ignoring the throbbing in my head, I gingerly reached up to touch my face. It was warm and sticky. I glanced at my hand. "Oh… that’s a lot of blood."
"Easy there, lad. Don’t faint again on me. You gotta stay awake. Can I at least put you on a stretcher to get you to the ambulance?" he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.
I studied him, "Fine… but if you try taking me to the hospital… I just might sue you."
He laughed, "Deal. But if I get killed by thousands of teenage girls for not taking you to get proper medical attention…"
I watched as two ambulance workers carried a stretcher over, and lifted me gently onto it. They attempted to make me lie down, yet I refused. I resumed my leaning position on it, wincing as their lifting me jarred my ankle. My eyes locked on the car that still sat in the middle of the road. Police cars with flashing lights blocked off the road from both sides, and I figured it was completely shut down. I swallowed hard, "That car. The driver… where are they?"
"Err… he didn’t make it, son," one of the ambulance workers said hesitantly.
I gasped before sputtering out, "Didn’t make it… but…"
"He was driving drunk. Wasn't wearing a seatbelt. How’d they hit you?" one of them asked as we reached the ambulance, and they opened the doors to put me in the back.
"I just wanna sit on the back of the ambulance. And I was… I was turning around, and he slammed into the passenger side door," I lowered my head, but quickly lifted it again as the throbbing increased. They carefully set the stretcher on the ground, and lifted me under my arms and legs gently onto the back of the ambulance so that I sat with my foot hanging off. They then elevated the stretcher on the ground so I could prop my injured foot on it.
"Alright… name, lad?" the first ambulance worker that had spoken to me asked.
"Harry Styles…" I repeated, slightly irritated that they couldn’t recognize me. But then I felt like a brat for thinking like that. They were older… they wouldn’t know much about One Direction.
The man clicked his tongue, "Harry Styles. What an honor… shame I can’t meet you on a nicer occasion. Let’s have a look at you. I’m Thomas, by the way," he motioned to the other ambulance worker. "He’s Chris. Is there anybody we can call to come be with you?"
I instantly remembered Lou. I wanted him here now, and I nodded my head. I felt in my pocket for my phone, and pulled it out. The screen was completely shattered, "Oh. Um… Louis Tomlinson?"
The Thomas pulled out his own phone, "He’s the eldest member of One Direction, right? What’s the number, I’ll call him," the public wasn’t exactly aware that Louis and I were together yet. Just family and friends knew.
I blurted out the numbers I knew by heart, and he smiled at me as he pressed the phone to his ear, "Well I don’t think you have a concussion."
Thomas walked a few paces off as Chris stepped forward, sliding behind the stretcher to reach me better and set something down next to me, "I’m gonna clean your head, alright?"
I nodded, and Chris muttered something about glass being in the wound. I watched as he pulled out tweezers, and my eyes widened, "Hold on…"
"I really gotta get the glass out of there… where else do you think you might have glass?" he gently took my chin in his hand and advanced forward with a pair of tweezers.
I clenched my eyes shut, grinding my teeth against the tug of my skin and sharp pains, "Uh.. My arms maybe. My clothes guarded me against the rest, I think."
Chris nodded and continued to pull glass from my forehead, putting it in a small bin in the box next to me. He eventually pulled back and glanced at my face, "I think I got it all… I’ll clean the wound before I check your arms for glass," he then proceeded to wipe a cloth, covered in a stinging liquid, gently over my head.
"Holy crap, that hurts!" I gasped, pulling away slightly.
"Sorry," Chris murmured, although he sounded far from it. He wiped at my head for what seems like ages before pulling out gauze and taping it to my forehead. "I think its gonna need stitches. You’ll have to go to the hospital for that, but this should hold it for now."
"No hospital!" I said fiercely.
At that moment, Thomas walked back over, "Louis is on his way here, Harry."
I breathed a sigh of relief, "Thanks."
"Sure thing, kid," Thomas smiled at me. Thomas was indeed much nicer than Chris, which is why I felt grateful to him when he reached for Chris’ tweezers. "Here, mate, I’ll take over."
Chris stepped back, allowing Thomas to slide back into his place. I looked up at him, "I think there’s some glass in my left arm. My right one feels okay, though."
Thomas reached for both of my hands, and pulled a flashlight from his pocket to shine on them, "Yup. Definitely some glass in the left. Don’t see any in the right though, so you’re right about that," He went to work with his tweezers, the stinging tug again making me wince.
He then held up the cloth with the stinging stuff on it with an apologetic look, "Gotta clean it out…"
I nodded with a grimace, as he began to wipe down my arm. About a minute later, he set the cloth aside and wrapped my arm with gauze, "Now for your ankle… all I can do for it now is ice it and apply pressure. So I’ll put a wrap on it, I suppose."
He reached back into the box and pulled out a tan roll of fabric, and tenderly began wrapping it around my ankle, but tight enough so that my ankle felt like it was held properly. He pulled out a strange plastic square from the box, and kneaded it slightly before placing it on my ankle. I was shocked to find that it was cold.
"Is that box magic?" I stared at it in wonder.
Thomas laughed, "Pretty much. It’s saved lots of lives."
"I think I like it," I smiled at him.
The slamming of a car door made Thomas squint into the lights of the police cars, "I’m pretty sure your friend is here. But I don’t think he drove the legal speed limit to get here…"
Sure enough, I heard Louis’ voice over the other voices and commotion around me, "Let me through!"
I could hear another voice trying to tell him that this was an accident scene and that Louis needed to leave. This only made Louis speak louder, his voice rising a few octaves, "You don’t understand! My friend is over there somewhere I have to- Get the hell out of my way!" And then I could see him dodging a police officer, and he looked slightly furious, yet he hadn’t seen me yet.
Realization hit me suddenly. I was in this mess because I had crashed a car. Not my car, which Louis had probably just driven to get here, but Louis’ car. Louis’ baby. His pride and joy, and I had crashed it. He was going to hate me. Panic welled up inside of me, and I instantly began scooting backwards into the ambulance in attempt to hide.
"Harry! Where is he?!" Louis demanded to a fireman.
"He’s over here, mate," Thomas called to Louis, waving him over, and then I didn’t favor Thomas much anymore. I still wanted Louis, but I was terrified at what he would have to say to me.
Rapid footsteps approached, and then Louis was standing in front of the stretcher, his eyes locked on my face. He wore an unknown emotion as he stared wordlessly at me. I opened my mouth to speak, to apologize for crashing his car, but all that escaped was a terrified sob, and then I buried my face into my hands. Shuffling sounded, and then hands were gently running over me as if they were checking that I still had all my limbs.
"Are you in pain? Are you hurt?" Louis asked frantically, hands sliding to my own to try and pull them from my face.
"I’ll leave you two alone a moment," I heard Thomas say, as he then mumbled for Chris to follow him.
"Harry, answer me!" Louis begged.
I allowed him to pull my hands away from my face. The tears that poured down my cheeks stung the scratches on my face, "M’sorry Louis, m’sorry!" I sobbed.
"Sorry? Why are you... I don’t understand… Harry!" Louis was running gentle fingers through my hair, his eyes still panicked. "Of course you are hurt…look at your head." his thumb brushed the bandage on my forehead carefully, and his gaze shifted to the arm with gauze on it.
"Your car," I sniffled, and then pointed to where his car lay crushed and upside down in the grass.
He turned in confusion and looked, before he turned wide-eyed face back to face me. He didn’t say anything however, just looked shocked. Finally he croaked, "You… you were in that? That piece of metal?"
"Don’t hate me." I whimpered. "I didn’t mean to crash it. Someone crashed into me actually, but I shouldn’t have taken it-"
Louis’ own sob cut me off abruptly, and then I was being pulled gently but firmly to his chest, "Oh God, Harry."
I sat in absolute shock as Louis held me to his chest, sobbing into my hair. Was this his way of showing anger? I could feel his form shake with the sobs that were racking his body. I had destroyed one of the things he loved most.
"I’ll buy you a new one Boobear…" I whimpered against him. "Just don’t hate me."
"Stop." he choked out between sobs. "You could've died in that car. I could've lost...I don’t hate you… Why would you even think-" he broke off, and stiffened. He pulled back to look at me, his breath hitching, "Is it because of the conversation earlier? On the way home? You thought… you thought I loved that car more than you?"
I stared up at him, "Well not necessarily, but I know your car is impor-"
He cut me off again with another sob, pulling me back to my chest, "Oh Harry, no! Nothing is ever more important to me than you," he pulled back quickly, before leaning in once more to force his lips to mine, cradling my face carefully.
I kissed him back upon reflex for a moment before pushing away slightly, "There’s people around…"
"Don’t care," he practically growled, pulling my lips back to his. He leaned slightly to get better access to my lips, and ended up bumping my leg, which jarred my ankle causing me to yelp. He yanked away instantly, concern written on his face, "What…?"
"My ankle…" I explained.
He bit his lip again, and his brow crumpled, "Damn… this is all my fault."
"Watch your mouth! And no, this isn’t your fault. I'm the stupid one who took your car and then nearly got myself killed," I told him sternly.
He made a slight whimper at the word 'killed', "Don't say that."
"My ankle is the way it was because it somehow got trapped under the seat when the car was rolling," I explained.
"The car rolled?" Louis swallowed hard.
"Like three times. And I think thats how I hit my head. And got glass all over me. I killed your car... I'm so sorry..." I lowered my gaze.
Louis began to stroke his fingers gently through my hair, untangling my curls, "You don't honestly think I'm angry about the car?"
"You loved your car... it was practically your baby!" I leaned into his touch.
"I love you. You're my baby," he pressed his lips to my temple.
I raised my eyebrows at him, "I'm your baby?" He then proceded to whisper a few lines of The Fray's "Look After You". I shook my head, "I don't think I'm your baby."
"My baby Hazza," he crooned, tucking my head gently under his own. "Hold on… why aren’t you at the hospital?" he pulled away, narrowing his eyes.
"I didn’t want to go…" I mumbled.
"Oh, you’re going," Louis said matter-of-factly.
"No, Lou! You know I hate hospitals!" I whined.
"You’re going. I want to make sure your head’s okay for one thing… and your ankle is probably sprained or broken," Louis ran his thumb over my trembling lower lip.
"Fine," I muttered, and Louis waved Thomas back over, explaining we were ready to leave now.
Chris walked over as well and said to me, "You were wearing your seatbelt, right Harry?"
"Yeah..." I nodded. "Pretty sure it bruised my sternum, too."
"A bruised sternum is better than the alternate. Mark, the fireman that got you out of the car-" Chris was then cut off by Louis.
"Got you out of the car? Were you unconcious?"
"At first. I woke up when they were checking to see if I was alive. But I was kind of stuck half in the car still. My ankle was caught under the seat, remember? So I couldn't get out. It was kind of scary at first, actually. I was in some grass all by myself with my lower half stuck in a car, and I wanted you," I admitted.
Louis moaned, "You were trapped in a car all by yourself, injured?"
"Mark says that if he wouldn't have buckled up, he would've been killed," Chris told him seriously.
Louis made a strangled sound, instantly reaching forward to pull me back into his arms, and I glanced up at him. He was staring back, eyes pooling over with tears again. I reached up and gently tried to stop them, "Would've been Lou... but I wasn't. I'm okay."
I could see the other workers staring at us in confusion. Normal best mates didn't do stuff like this, so Louis sucked in a huge breath before he pulled away and told them to put me on the stretcher again, making me lay down. I glared at him, and he simply squeezed my hand before they lifted me into the ambulance. He climbed up into the vehicle beside me sitting down beside my head, and studied my face as he reclaimed my hand, his thumb stroking the back of it.
"What?" I snapped.
"Just trying not to think of what I would do if I had lost you," he whispered. "If you ever… if I ever-" his voice was growing hoarser as he tried to force out what he wanted to say.
I bit my lip against the wave of emotion that washed over me, and squeezed his hand gently, "I’m okay."
Louis wiped at his eyes with his free hand, "Thankfully, yeah," We began to drive, and I felt my eyes growing heavy.
"Is he allowed to sleep?" Louis asked Thomas and Chris, who were in the front of ambulance.
"Yeah. He doesn’t have a concussion, just a large cut. So he should be able to sleep," Thomas called back.
Louis leaned in closer to me, "Sleep then, love."
I shook my head, "Tell me a story."
Louis took in a deep breath before beginning quietly, "Once upon a time there was a curly haired boy named Hazza. For some reason, the silly lad got into his head that his friend, Louis, who loved him more than anything in the whole wide world, liked a dumb car better than him. So Hazza decided to take that car for a joy ride. Hazza ended up getting hurt, and Louis found out by getting a call from some ambulance driver. Louis wanted to get there as soon as possible, but he couldn't find his keys! So he took Hazza's car, not connecting that if Hazza's car was here then Hazza had driven Louis' car. The whole way to where Hazza was, Louis was going mental with horrifying thoughts. He might have even cussed out a policeman who wouldn’t let him see his Hazza," Louis chuckled slightly, and I continued to stare up at him, yet he wasn’t looking at me. "But Louis found, much to his relief, that his Hazza was alright, and from this day on he’s going to stop at nothing to prove to Hazza that he really does love him. Much more than a silly car… much more then he probably even knows himself. Louis now knows that he would be a wreck without his Hazza."
I gaped up at him, and swallowed back the guilt, "I’m still going to buy you a new car."
Louis sighed, and pressed his lips to my ear, "I’m going to make them sedate you if you don’t go to sleep."
Laughter bubbled from my throat, and I closed my eyes, "Alright, alright… love you Lou-bear."
"Love you too, Hare-bear. I love you so, so much," I felt his lips press gently below my bandage, and with that, I drifted off to sleep, knowing that with Louis holding my hand, I could get through whatever came at me at the hospital. Heck, I could get through whatever came at me in life so long as I had Louis. And I kinda figured I always would.