Reasons to be a Nerd: a Larry Stylinson AU fic

Chapter 10

A/N: Ok, a week's long enough, here's the newest update :D I'm crossing my fingers about getting to the finals of the bromance awards or not...probably not, but at least we made it this far and got a couple votes (EDIT: WE MADE IT. LET'S DO THIS. PREPARE FOR MORE LINK SPAMMING AND VOTING AND STUFFS. http://www.wattpad.com/13306177-1d-bromance-awards-leprechaun-2013-undiscovered?utm_source=email#comments) C: This chapter's dedicated to JaydeBooM for inspiring me to keep writing this story six months ago, when it had 2 chapters, maybe a hundred reads, and was going absolutely nowhere. Thank you for inspiring me to keep writing this story instead of just giving up on it like I was so near to doing. You're lovely, and all of y'all are lovely. So thank you for everything - it means the world. Thank you all(: I hope you like this chapter! AND I'M SORRY ABOUT LAST UPDATE'S EMOTIONAL TURMOIL.

(Niall’s POV)

Tap. Tap. Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptapokay killing this floor with my shoes isn’t helping anything…

My hands wind around in circles around each other and I can’t figure out what to do with them. These nerves are unbearable…this waiting room is unbearable! The whole place has a tense, heavy, depressing atmosphere that feels like it’s choking me, but I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I cross my legs, uncross them, tap my feet once more, grip the armrests of this ridiculously uncomfortable chair and dig my bitten-down nails into the edges of them.

This is my fault. It’s my fault.

If I had just BEEN THERE on time-! If I had just gone to go get him, instead of waiting around and getting something to eat, and listening to music, and going to get gas, and if I had just checked my phone instead of leaving it tossed in the backseat because “It keeps you safe because you won’t check it while you’re driving, Niall!” and if I just...just…

I can’t take this…

I’ve just pushed my head back into the wall behind me and slumped down in my chair again, ready to play another round of counting the dots in the ceiling tiles, when someone new barges through the double door entrance of the waiting room from outside. I look up, expecting another frantic mother toting along a barely injured child. But in barges a very, very frazzled looking Louis.

“Lou! Here,” I call out, half of me very surprised that he got here so fast considering that he and Harry had been fighting for the past two days. He glances around quickly, and then his eyes lock onto mine.

He runs across the short distance, and suddenly his arms are wrapped around my shoulders and he’s clinging onto me in the most desperate hug I think I’ve ever experienced.

“Niall!” he chokes out, clutching onto me and burying his face in my neck. Shocked still, I awkwardly pat his back and wait for him to calm down. It takes a solid few minutes and a lot of crying, but he finally pulls himself together enough to fall into the chair beside me, pull his knees up to his chest and push his forehead into them.

“Is he? What’s?” Louis asks brokenly between hiccups. He looks back up at me with wide eyes, his face contorted with worry.

“He’s in surgery, right now,” I mumble back. “I don’t know anything else yet.”

Louis makes a choking noise and covered his face with his hands. “No, no, no, no,” he mumbles from between his fingers. I have to reach up and wipe my eyes viciously to stop myself from bawling. “Lou, he’s alive.”

He jerks his head up and stares at me in utter disbelief. “Harry’s in surgery right now, for God knows how long, and I don’t even know if he’s going to be okay or not, and there’s not a single thing I can do about it.” He buries his face in his hands again and bends over, pushing his forehead down to his knees and making a little, desperate noise. “Niall, what if he’s not okay?”