So this story has been bothering me for a while, and I decided it was time to rewrite it because even if it was horribly written (it was one of my firsts fanfics) somehow it still has a place in my heart.
And also people seem to love it.
I'll try not to change too much of it, but just edit so it's better to read.
Love you all
Mag 🦋
PROLOGUE
- Edited -
[ Louis' POV. ]
I was driving fast, checking the time almost constantly in the console, making sure the two bottles of vodka I had on the passenger seat wouldn't fall and clash, I was late.
I was heading to a party that I was supposed to attend, I was supposed to make an entrance, to do 'networking' as Liam would call it. I needed to be there, but I was late. I was damn late, and I had no excuse for it.
The L.A streets were weirdly empty for a Friday night, but seeing as I was running late, I really wasn't complaining.
I knew driving there was a risk, knowing I was very likely to get completely wasted, but I didn't have much of a choice at the moment. My driver, dear and loyal Gael, was on his day off and calling an Uber wasn't an option being me.
I shook my head, annoyed at myself for being a lazy ass and not being ready in time, for not realizing I was late until Liam called wondering where I was.
He was pissed.
And I, I was so submerged in my thoughts that I didn't see the red light in front of me. The street was empty yes, but with only the dim light coming from the street lamps I almost missed when a boy crossed the street intersection on his bike.
It all happened in a blur.
I couldn't stop the car in time, I hit the brakes to light the impact, but yet I ended up crashing against the boy on his side, making him fly over the trunk of my car.
Once I managed to fully stop the car, luckily without any injuries myself, I rushed out to check on the boy.
He had landed on the side of the street, his head hitting the pavement. When I leaned over him to check his vitals, I saw blood around his head and soaking his curly brown hair.
With worry creeping up my veins, I checked his pulse, it was still there. And yes, his ribcage was moving, he was breathing. But he wasn't conscious.
I had to take him to the hospital.
I knew there was a hospital only two blocks away. I had to hurry.
Unlocking and opening the backdoors of my car first, I struggled my way to pick him up off the ground. I took my shirt off using it to apply pressure in his bleeding wound and I placed him inside as gently and carefully as I could. Quickly I pulled a hoodie on and climbed in the driver's seat.
"You're going to make it, stranger." - I mumbled to myself. - "You have to."
I took one last glance at his destroyed bike in the street before turning my car on, making a mental note to get the boy a new one after getting him to the hospital.
If he gets through this, and he will, he'll need a new one.
And probably a helmet.