keep driving

8. bad move

song: don't let it break your... ankle by Louis Tomlinson (I'm so funny)

"Ow, fucking shit" Harry curses out as a sharp pain rings through his body. His ankle sends waves of agony through him, there is a throbbing feeling at his hip bone and Harry is starting to get dizzy. He tries to push his body back up from the stone but his hands shake.

He's pretty sure he's bleeding where he fell onto a sharp edge of a rock he wanted to climb up to. Looking down, he sees that, yes, he is in fact bleeding, a small red patch already forming on his pants where he hit the stone.

Louis in front of him scrambles to a stop as he hears Harry cursing and wincing in pain and he quickly turns around to run over to him. He reaches him within seconds, looking around frantically.

"Shit, Harry," He mumbles, grabbing Harry's backpack and slinging it over his shoulder along with his own, before he slides his arm around Harry, hand grasping at the side of his waist that is not throbbing like a bitch.

He helps him up with a sort of strength that surprises Harry, since he doesn't have the capacity to support him and just leans with his entire weight on Louis' side. But Louis doesn't really seem bothered, turning around briefly to look at the bloke over their shoulders, before he helps Harry get away farther. Somehow, the man seems to have stopped running, instead yelling at them. The problem is that neither of them can understand what he's saying because he's yelling in greek.

Harry finds it hard to breathe, he's never really been one for running, then that man really scared him after he just had a Louis-crisis and above all there is that damn pain in the front of his hip and his leg.

He only vaguely hears Louis' assuring mumbling, that they almost did it and that everything is fine and that the lad is not calling the police or anything. He's still steadying Harry, while he quickly but safely brings them to a small patch of the cliffs near the water, the public beach hidden behind a wall of rocks and stones. He helps Harry sit down on the floor and lean against one of them, as he fusses over him.

Harry still tries and fails to take deep breaths, leaning his head back against the stone and closing his eyes. He tries to get to his wound to pull his trousers away because the material scrapes over it nastily, but his hands shake and he can't focus. But Louis is there, close to him, and Harry tells himself that Louis could take care of everything that could possibly happen right now, even though he's not so sure. But as it is, he doesn't have many options. But at least Louis is here, examining him, as it seems.

Just then, he seems to realise how hard Harry is breathing and he gently touches his cheeks.
Harry hears him saying his name but he doesn't really hear him, he's panicking and he doesn't fucking get any air into his lungs, even though he's breathing so fucking much. The panic is flooding through, just like every time this happens. He feels like he's going to suffocate right here, even though he takes a hundred breaths per second. His lungs squeeze together and his head hurts, brain fogging.

He hears Louis mutter another 'shit' as if he's behind a glass door and then sees him digging around his backpack. Suddenly, it's a gift from heaven that Louis Tomlinson has no idea what privacy is and looked through Harry's stuff earlier, because he quickly pulls out his inhaler and kneels over Harry's legs.

"Here," He says, voice gentle but urgent. "You probably know how to do this."

One of his hands holds the inhaler (the wrong way but he realises that after a few seconds and turns it around), the other is at the back of Harry's head, tilting it back with a hand softly in his curls. Harry is grateful for that, he feels like otherwise he would probably sag into himself and chances of getting air would be even lower.