Wide Awake (One Direction / Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 17

I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY! ALL RIGHT GOES TO *IamADirectioner*

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HarryPov.

"Oh, no..." I whisper. I thought he'd be fine. He was last night. Now...

Louis's shaking like a leaf, his head in a strange position. The knife in his hand is glinting in the light.

"Wake up, Louis," I plead. "You're dreaming."

He looks so small and fragile. He's still tucked up in my old Jack Wills sweater, which is a bit big for him. His hands are almost covered by the sleeves. His hair is mussed, and his cheeks are flushed. If this was normal, I would've fallen for his adorable appearance, and began cuddling him. But his expression is one of terror.

My mind is racing. What can I do? How do I stop him? Could I get that knife out of his hand?

He takes a step forward. I move back, only to feel myself step onto the small balcony outside. Two more steps and I'll be pressed up against the railing. I realize how stuck I am.

Oh, damn.

Louis sobs. Tears are flooding down his cheeks. "I - " Then he whimpers, and staggers slightly. "I'm sorry," he finishes.

"Listen, Louis," I say, trying to sound as reassuring and calm as I can. Inside, my mind is on overdrive, thinking and dismissing ideas. "It's just a dream. You're going to close your eyes, think about waking up, and you're going to wake up."

I don't think he can hear me, because he doesn't react to my words at all. It's like he's talking to someone else. "Please, please... just let me go... I - " he pauses again. Another sob escapes from his lips, and he takes another step forward. He looks agonized.

"Oh, God, please..." he whispers. Then he stumbles another step forward, and I'm pressed into the railing.

It's only big enough for five people squashed together. I have absolutely nowhere to run, except down. And that's absolutely no option.

"Louis," I say, fear creeping into my voice. "Louis, listen, just... just wake up, ok? Please, Louis, stop."

His eyes are flickering wildly. "No... please..." he says, tears still dripping of his cheeks.

Suddenly, his expression changes. He lifts the knife, and I stare at it in terror.

But then I see him shift his grip on the knife, making striking only possible in one direction. And my brain spins back into life.

"I - I love you," he murmurs, then he begins to bring the knife - to his own heart.

I spring at him, twisting his wrist so the giant blade falls to the floor, and I tackle him to the floor. I hear a cry emit from Louis as we slam into the wood, Louis first. I hear a thunk, and I manage to avoid crushing Louis by moving in mid air, hitting the ground full force.

My body protests with the pain, but I crawl up to Louis.

He's knocked out.

I breathe a sigh of relief, then I think back to what just happened.

What I did was extremely, extremely stupid. I shiver when I realize how close to death I was.

Louis's subconsious is becoming very dangerous.

I shake Louis's shoulders hesitantly. I need to know he's ok. Who knows, maybe he's still dreaming.

I bend by his ear. "Louis? Lou?"

Suddenly, a sharp gasp cuts through the silence. The body underneath me begins thrashing around.

"Louis!" I call through his fit of panic.

He stops, breathing quickly, and sees me.

He focuses, and then his eyes widen. He sits up, slowly, looking around. His eyes fall on something which I know is the knife.

I slowly take him into my arms as he moves away from it, and takes a rasping breath. And suddenly he's sobbing into my chest.

"Wh- why me? Why does it h-h-have to be me?" Louis cries. He's shockingly warm and skinny. I'm surprised about how much weight he's lost.

"Shhh," I coo, rocking him gently. "I'm right here, babe, right here."

"Oh Harry, it was so- so - " he gives a small wail like sound, and doesn't continue. I pull him a little closer, and begin planting little kisses on his head.

He keeps crying into my arms. I keep murmuring little things to him until his tears slow down. He's still crying softly though.

"What did I do?" he whispers.

"You didn't do anything, boo," I say, a bit sharply. "It's not your fault. Ok?"

"But why ELSE? It must be something I did, Harry, I've done something wrong, but I don't know what it is... someone wants to KILL me!"

I pull my head and shoulders underneath the Jack Wills hoodie with him. We're almost uncomfortably pressed up together now, with no more distance between us. I leave my hands out of the sweater and I rest my forehead on Louis's.

The light reflects of his shiny eyes like moonrays glittering on ocean waves, if ocean waves could be vulnerable. I gaze into them, trying to convince him of my yet unspoken words.

"Louis," I state calmly and firmly, just managing to brush a lock of his hair from his eyes with my restricted arms, "You didn't do anything. Ok? This. Is. Not. Your. Fault. Its just some mental disorder, and it's going to be completely fine. I promise."

He looks at me with his ocean eyes wide with fear and doubt. He keeps silent for a few moments.

"Harold, you're cold," he mutters.

I'm slightly startled by his statement, but I realize I am. The blanket was shrugged of my shoulders when I launched myself at Louis before, and the chill is creeping through me. Louis's warmth has started burning into my chest.

"A little," I admit.

"Can we go back to bed now?" he asks quietly.

I breathe a small sigh, and pull myself out of his hoodie, shivering at the rush of cold. "Ok," I agree, and I pull him to his feet. He huddles up in the sweater, and we go back to his room.

Louis curls up in the blanket, avoiding my gaze. I lie down right next to him, bundling down in my own blanket. I scooch closer so that he has no choice but to look at me.

His gaze catches mine. He looks so young, so scared, I feel strength run down to the core of my body, and protectiveness smothering any other emotions.

"Everything's going to turn out fine," I promise softly.

He gives a small smile, and I hug him tightly. He leans into my arms and soon, his breathing calms down, and he's asleep.

I yawn myself. I'm quite glad that I'm feeling sleepy now. I sink into the moment, breathing slowly. My arms tingle with the feeling of Louis in my embrace. My eyes are drifting closed. The last thing I remember thinking before I fall asleep is, what happened to my milk?

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Again:

I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY! ALL RIGHT GOES TO *IamADirectioner*

http://www.fanfiction.net/u/3941498/IAmADirectioner Go check her out :D

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