Midnight Black Stilettos. [L.S.]✓

Ch. 8; The Pool.

A/N: don't hate me... 🙏🙏🙏 (also I accidentally skipped chapter 8 lmao)

Once they've made it down to the beach, Harry ducks into the undergrowth, tugging Louis with him. 

"That guy with the headband is probably in charge." Louis whispers once he's clocked their surroundings, pointing at the pool, near the back of the resort. It's fully visible from where they are, the entire wedding party stuck in the pool. "I think we should-"

Harry take off running towards the resort, pulling a knife out of his sleeve.

Louis runs to catch him up, finally grabbing him. "Remind me to kill you, please."

"Too late for that now, LouLou, c'mon." Harry says confidently, calmly walking right into the drama.

"It's them!" One yells, and Harry casually punches him in the mouth. Several people (especially Harry's family) gasp, and Louis rolls his eyes. The guy in the headband runs into the building, too beefy guys following him.

About four try to take Harry on, two collapsing immediately (Louis suspects shoe), the other two lasting a bit longer. Louis just watches, not bothering to get involved.

A woman runs over, a burn covering the right side of her face. 

"Hey, you look familiar. Have I threatened you before?" Harry asks, ducking when she tries to roundhouse kick him. Louis will never know how he does it, all of this, in heels.

Liam carefully wades over, pulling himself out of the pool as more appear, raising an eyebrow at Louis. "What happened to Harry's hair?"

"A very, very dead man." Louis tells him gravely, the two of them joining the fight as several gang up on Harry.

One gets him in a chokehold, two others attempting to stab him. All three fail, what with Harry battering the two around the head was his bat and throwing the other over his shoulder, stamping on him for good measure.

Louis pulls out his gun and shoots a guy trying to sneak attack Harry, whose body instantly crumples to the ground, Liam busy trying to stop one of them from injuring those in the pool.

It's chaos, blood everywhere, Harry's limbs flying everywhere, bodies littering the pool side.

Which is why Louis notices too late, the woman who survived the grenade and Harry.

All he hears is Harry taunting her, "sorry, I don't speak skank," his voice scathing and dripping with sarcasm.

Then, he heard a yell, a splash, several horrified gasps. He turned around to see Harry in the pool with knife imbedded in his side, eyes half-lidded as blood slowly seeps into the white of his dress. 

He launches himself at her, the people around her quickly scattering as Louis punches her, punching her again and again until her nose gushes blood, until his hand stops shaking enough to slice her neck, just where it'll kill her quickly but not too quickly, ensuring a painful death.

Liam has jumped in after Harry, and is now attempting to haul his scarily lifeless body from the water, the man's head lolling to the side, limbs lax.

He doesn't know what to do. Harry doesn't get hurt, he never does. He walks out of every altercation unscathed and basically impeccable. How the fuck is Harry hurt? He's Harry, for fucks sake. The stubborn motherfucker never let's anyone close enough to hurt him. 

He doesn't understand it, how Harry got hurt on their wedding day, of all things.

He'd wanted it to be perfect. Louis knew this. And first he'd gone and fucked it up, and then the people trying to kill them showed up, and then Harry's dress had been ruined, and his shoes are covered in blood, his hair cut, and now he's been stabbed.

Fuck, his baby's been stabbed. His baby. There's blood on Harry's dress.

He drops to his knees beside him, immediately finding Harry's hand.

There's tears in his eyes. Fuck.

"Is he gonna be ok, Li?" Louis asks fearfully. Lottie carefully hauls herself out of the pool (the rest of the hijackers now hiding or dead, mostly dead), wrapping her arm around him.

"He hit his head pretty hard when he fell," Liam says seriously, inspecting the wound, "and, the knife wasn't short, buried to the hilt. There's a potential it could of hit something serious, and he's bled quite a bit, I think the knife moved." He muses, carefully moving the fabric wedding dress from where it's torn because of the wound. Blood trickles down Harry's laurel tattoo, some smearing against the butterfly as Liam continues to look. "He needs a real doctor, Lou, and quickly."

"We phoned the police," Louis suddenly remembers, "they're probably bringing medics." He adds. "Is there anything we can do for now?"

Liam shrugs. "Find a way to ensure that Harry doesn't kill us all because there's blood on his dress when he awakens."

"We could tell him it's his lipstick?" Lottie offers, pointing at Harry's red, full lips. 

He's paled slightly, the red disconcerting and jarring rather than the usual seductive pout. Louis can't see the green of his eyes, the beautiful forest green that he can get lost in. All he can see is the blood, and his beautiful hair that's been destroyed.

"You're an assassin, aren't you?" Lottie whispers to him, pointing to his discarded gun. "You have been since you met Michael."

"I-" Louis says, surprised. "How did you know, Lots?" He asks.

"He tried to recruit me as well, genius." Lottie snorts. "Think you're the special one, Lewis?"

"Fair enough." Louis chuckles, leaning against her. He still holds Harry's hand in his, tracing his finger over the engagement ring. 

Now he knows how Harry felt. Just little bit, anyway. He actually died.

"After this nightmare wedding, no offence," Lottie says, shoving him lightly, "you and Harry need to tell me everything, because he's definitely not got a normal person job."

"I have one now, Lots." Louis huffs, shaking his head. "I'll explain why soon."

"But you're gonna tell me everything, right?" She asks. "You're my big brother, I wanna know how many people you've killed. I wanna know how you actually met Harry, because that bar in Vegas story is bullshit."

"Actually, it's not." Louis chuckles. "It's not how we met, but it happened."

"You cumming in your pants and all?" Lottie chuckles.

"He wasn't supposed to tell you that..." Louis sighs, glancing at the still bleeding Harry. "God, I hope he's ok. I love him too much to lose him."