Tattoos Together || Larry Stylinson

Chapter 6

I turned back to the curly haired.

"Close your eyes, Haz. You should sleep."

I knew my very presence would keep him awake. My hands, which were now warm on his back, only consolidated the fact.

I felt the tension slowly drain from his muscles. He sighed in satisfaction and pressed his back lightly a bit further against my palms.

The pressure he put on my hand where the plaster was sticking that covered the small surgical suture made me press my lips tightly together.

Nevertheless, I stupidly smiled to myself.

"Lou?" Harry asked at some point in an exhausted voice. Actually, I had assumed that he was already half asleep. "Hm?"

"Do you have tea? I usually always have a cup of tea before bed... it's a habit."

"So, tea?" I let out confused.

He looked up at me, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen, his eyes glazed with tiredness.

"Yes, that would be nice..." He whispered insecure.

I looked at him bewitched. -felt the urge to take a picture of him lying there, so innocent and sleepy.

I tore myself out of my trance with all my might only to run back up the stairs ten minutes later with a cup of steaming contents, ignoring the struggle not to spill anything when, due to habit, I took two steps at a time.

"Here you are. Your tea, Mister." I mimed taking a toque off a serving plate, like a snobby waiter in a fine restaurant. Harry smiled faintly and thanked me in a whisper of his voice.

He got into a sitting position, the blanket over his shoulders, legs drawn to his body. Hesitating with uncertainty, he stretched out his delicate hands for the cup.

I handed it to him carefully.

Then I watched how his bony fingers clutched the handle tightly and pressed the warm vessel against his body.

"Are you cold little one?"

"Its alright, thanks." He smiled for demonstration of his wellbeing. He took a small sip of the tea and curled his mouth.

"Mint tea." I explained for no reason, because he obviously figured that out himself.

"Don't you like it?" I asked, scratching my arm in perplexity.

Nobody in this household drank tea. Coffee every day, at every time of the day. It was sheer luck that I found this tea bag... I didn't even know how old it was already. But tea couldn't spoil. Could it?

The curly headed seemed to be carefully considering his next words. "Well, it tastes...Special?" he wrinkled his nose and put the barely touched cup on the beside table to be able to lay down relaxed.

"Would you mind if I stay here, working on some... school stuff?" I asked. I didn't even have anything to do. Maybe I was just looking for an excuse to watch him sleep.

"Yeah. This is your room Louis, do whatever you want."

I nodded and sat down at my desk chair, grabbed a sheet of white paper and a pencil, which was shorter than my pinky finger, and began to doodle whatever nonsense that came to my mind.

My gaze wandered to the sad-looking, single finished line of my started 'Stick n' Poke Tattoo.' It was pale, I would have to prick it along a few more times.

I spotted the stapler in my drawer and grinned. I fished it out and disassembled it, so that I could take out one of the staples.

I used both of my index fingers to bend the piece of wire apart, so that a straight rod was created.