Harry calls a final goodbye to his co-worker while he grabs his coat and car keys, ready to leave work. He works in a gym, a job that Harry adores.
He shrugs on his coat while pushing the door open, his head ducking immediately when he is met with the rain hitting his face.
"Shit," he quietly utters, mentally cursing himself for parking so far from the building that day. He yanks the back of his coat over his head as much as he can manage, trying to make up for the lack of a hood.
He starts running as quick as he can possibly manage, his head still lowered and his keys jingling in his hand with each movement while making his way to his car. He unlocks the car and sits in, slamming the door shut to keep the cold out while he raises his head.
Harry runs a large hand through his partially damp curls, groaning slightly with coldness. So much for a good day, he thinks. So far he did nothing but irritate his boss and himself in the process. It really isn't Harry's fault that the guy didn't dodge his hook on time, is it? He is still learning the basics of boxing from Harry, but yet his boss flipped. The weather really isn't helping Harry's shitty mood either.
Harry puts the keys into the ignition, starting the car before pulling out of his parking space. He has the heating turned on at this stage, his green eyes locked on the road in front of him while he makes his way back home to the heat and comfort of his house.
He peers out the windscreen, having to double take suddenly when he looks towards the footpath by the side of the road.
He waits until the windscreen wipers have the rain cleared away again before looking over to the same spot as before, his curiosity soon being replaced by worry.
He abruptly pulls the car up, opening his door before running over to what has caught his attention.
"Hey, what are you doing? Are you okay?" Harry calls over, his eyes still locked on the bundle curled up on the wet, cold ground. He gets no reply.
He drops to his knees next to the person, grimacing at the state of his face. The boy's lip is bust, various scrapes, scratches and cuts covering the rest of his body. Harry takes notice of the light clothes the boy has on, saturated with both rain and blood.
"Can you hear me?" Harry tries, peering down at the helpless boy. He can barely make out the faint whimper that he gets in reply but he hears it nonetheless. He looks around himself quickly, seeing no one around to assist. But then again, who in their right mind would be out in the rain?
Harry reaches out for the boy's frail body, apologising quickly when he hears a weak whine. He lifts him into his arms, deciding that it would be best to bring him home and fix him up.
"Are you comfortable?" Harry asks, his voice nearly being taken over by the sound of the heavy rain hitting the ground. He notices the boy clinging on to him, his dainty fingers grabbing Harry's shirt while he rests his face against his chest in a desperate attempt for some heat. Harry takes that as a yes.
He sits the boy into the passenger seat of his car before sitting back into his own seat again. Slipping off his coat, he eyes the boy in the seat next to him. He is a young boy, and obviously hurt. Harry helps wrap the coat around the boy's shoulders, turning the heat up slightly.
"Just sit back and rest, but stay awake. Can you do that? Will you stay awake for me?"
The boy forces his eyes open slightly, looking at the unfamiliar man that has spoken, too weak to even speak, let alone panic over being sat into a strangers car. He does notice that he is a nice stranger, though. The man seems okay.
He gives a barely noticeable nod of his head in reply to the older man, wincing slightly at the twinge of pain he feels.
"We're not far away from home anyways," Harry softly informs, starting to drive back the rest of the way.