Love in a photograph

XV111

It's snowing lightly when Harry wakes up in the morning, so Harry gets dressed in all his warmest clothes to go sit at the hospital again until they let him see Louis. He doesn't really want to pay for another taxi, but after some snooping in the stockroom of Louis's store he finds a bicycle in perfect shape, and decides he'll use that instead. He hasn't ridden a bike in years, and he very well may slip and break his neck if the sidewalks aren't properly shoveled, but he supposes it would serve him right after what he's done to Louis.

He manages to make it to the hospital without falling off the bike, but he's soaked through with snow and chilled to his bones. He's shivering as he approaches the front desk, smiling what he hopes is a friendly smile at the woman sitting there. It's a different woman from yesterday, but she looks just as sweet.

"Hi," he says, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth, and also so that maybe the woman will take pity on him just a bit. "I'm here to visit my friend, Louis Tomlinson, I brought him in last night."

The woman flips through the book in front of her, searching for Louis's name. "Ah, yes, Mr. Tomlinson. He's been listed in stable condition as of early this morning. Visiting hours aren't for a bit, though, so you can have a seat and warm up a bit," she says, handing him a thin blanket in a plastic package from under the desk. "There's hot coffee just over there, as well."

Harry takes the blanket and goes to sit down, draping the thin, papery material over his shoulders and resting his face in his hands. He's too nervous to drink coffee right now; he's already jittery, if he has any caffeine, he might just start bouncing off the walls.

Louis is in stable condition, he tells himself, letting that sink in. Louis is going to be alright.

He has to wait a little over an hour before he's finally let in, following a nurse down the corridor of the ward. They stop in front a bed near the middle of the huge, open room, beds lined up in long, neat rows. Some of the beds are filled, but once the nurse walks away, the closest person nearby is a sleeping old man a few beds over from Louis's.

Louis still isn't awake, but he looks peaceful, unlike he did last night. The pain is gone from his face and his breathing is calm and even, though it's still rough. Harry wants to lay down beside him and hold him again, like he did the other night, but he's too afraid of disrupting him, making things worse.

He pulls a chair up to the side of Louis's bed and sits down carefully, watching Louis's face. "Hi," he breathes, reaching out to brush his finger along the inside of Louis's arm. Louis flinches a bit in his sleep, face scrunching for just a moment. "Oops, sorry, my hands are cold," Harry mutters, but Louis's face is already peaceful again.

He sits in silence for a long few moments, just listening to Louis breathe. He never thought he'd be so thankful to hear the sound of it.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm going to talk anyway. I'm so sorry, Louis. Sorry for not being able to take care of you, and for not realising it sooner. Sorry I didn't bring you here the moment I thought I should have. I'm sorry I let you get so sick. You do nothing but take care of me, you know, all the time, and the one time you trusted me to return the favour, I let you down," he says, shaking his head. "But I'm going to be here every day until you get better. I won't let you be alone for a moment longer than I have to. I'm not allowed to stay outside of visiting hours but I'm not going to leave until they kick me out, okay? I need you to get better," he says, reaching down to take gentle hold of Louis's hand.

Louis coughs in his sleep, and the deep, rumbling sound of it startles Harry nearly out of his skin. He holds Louis's hand a little tighter, frowning at the tremble of Louis's lip before he coughs again.