"Lovely"

Part Forty (Louis)

Part Forty (Louis)

The first thing that I feel upon waking is pain. Pain in my eyes from the lights, pain in my arms and legs and chest and everywhere else that could possibly hurt. I wish I knew what happened. I wish I could understand what was going on. But I didn't, and to me it seemed as though everyone else did. Despite having my eyes shut, I could feel someone glaring over me; likely with a well-acted look of concern. Why though? What was going on?

Upon opening up my eyes, I don't recognize anything. All the lights are turned off, but I can tell it's still the daytime. There is a large window to my right and I can see a parking lot on the ground below. The room itself is white, and whatever the hell I'm lying on is terribly uncomfortable.

I try to sit, and get my bearings and everything, you know find out what happened. However before I can, a brunette lady dressed in green scrubs darts over from the chair next to my bed.

"Hi Louis," she says gently, using her hand to guide me back to the bed. Why does it hurt more when I try to lift myself up? "My name is Emma, how do you feel?"

When I try to speak I find that my words aren't even close to audible, almost a mumble, "Not good," I force out, "Where am I?"

"Louis you're in the hospital. Do you know what happened?"

The hospital?

I guess that would explain the scrubs.

I move my shoulders to make a second attempt to sit up, but again Emma forces me back down.

"Louis, please don't try and move just yet. You've broken your back, love, amongst other things."

This is so confusing, how did that happen?

Liam.

Liam wouldn't have done this. Maybe I fell down the steps at home. Yeah, probably that. I fall down them at least twice a week, not surprising that I've finally had to face the consequences for my clumsiness.

Maybe Liam pushed you.

He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't.

Harry?

Harry seemed so angry about Liam and me, maybe he had something to do with it. That seems logical; I mean really, Harry probably hates me. Speaking of which, where is Harry?

"Where is Harry?" I murmur to Emma, who's adjusting a dripping bag next to my bed.

"I'll check the hallway, sweetheart. Would you like me to send him in if I see him?"

I nod, and shortly after Emma leaves, a tall figure with chocolate brown hair appears at the foot of my bed.

Harry.