The GGT club's owner |Harry Styles|

Chapter 11

"Help me, Blair", then fell onto his knees.

*

'What the actual fuck' was my first thought, while I ran up to him and grabbed his hands, trying to get him up.

"What in the living hell happened to you?" I mutter to myself, but he didn't bother answering. I looked at him, but his green eyes didn't greet mine. "Don't you dare to faint now!" I raise my voice a little, getting worried about him.

He slowly opened his eyes, but they barely remained open. Then, he just hummed to inform me that he's alive and stood up, being still hunched over.

Eventually we reached the settee, he dropped his body onto it, and put his head down to the top part of the settee.

"Let me get my first aid kit" I whispered to him, since I was close to his face. Harry answered with a nod, so after I examined his face again, making it sure he won't go unconscious while I'm away for fifteen seconds, I went to the bathroom for the mentioned kit.

I kept thinking what happened, why he got disappeared. Was he kidnapped? Or get into the wrong group? Or he just blacked out to that point where he couldn't even stand still?

I left the bathroom, and I got to my slide almost rushing. I slid down, then made my way back to him.

"Okay okay, I'm here" I say as I was walking towards him, he just managed to spit out a quiet 'okay'.

I opened it to get out the supplies I need, then I leaned close to him, looking at his face. It looked terrible, to be honest. There were square shaped traces across his face, along with some smaller cuts and bruises.

I touched his bruise under his eye, as light as I could while I asked "Can you open your eyes? Or at least one of them?"

As a respond, he tried to open them; after two failed attempts, he grabbed my hand, and lifted it up. I understood what he wanted, so I opened then by pulling the eyelid a little bit up. Just as I thought, his pupils were too big to assume he was under the marijuana's effect; it was cocaine. 

"I'm gonna get you some orange juice" I said to him what I was planning on doing, but the next thing I realized, I was on his lap, because he pulled me back. "Okay, then I'm not leaving. I'm going to clean your wounds."

Not waiting for his response, I begin to provide his wounds.

I was speechless, he couldn't say a word, so that left us in silence, we only heard the sounds of the supplies moving and touching his skin.

I'm starting to have this foreboding feeling. It couldn't be a simple fight. And the cocaine? I only saw him smoking joints. Why would he start to do coke and get into a fight? I sigh, looking at his helpless face, how his mouth hungs open while his head didn't move at all. I could tell which wound was more painful about the sharp inhales, and his breath becoming faster and messier. As I was going for the square shaped one, he let out a painful hiss.

"Sorry" I apologize "are you okay?" I check, waiting for his answer.

"D-do I look like... M'okay?" That's all he says, speaking the words slowly and quietly.

I had to chuckle. Of course he would say that.

"Fine, macho man, but I would shut that mouth of yours. Don't waste that precious energy."

After this short convo, he remained silent again and let me continue my work. And still, I can't get one thing out of my head, so after I collected some courage, I dared to ask, "what was that thing that left a square shape here?" I point to his cheek, where it was the most seen.