As the referee blew the whistle, the crowd erupted into cheers. It was the final game of the season and Harry Styles, the star player for the Chicago Blackhawks, was barreling down the ice. He was known for his speed and agility and his quick reflexes, but this time, he didn't see the opposing player until it was too late. Suddenly, he landed hard on the ice, his head bouncing off the surface, and everything went black.
The medics rushed onto the ice, lifting Harry onto a stretcher and whisking him away to the hospital. His teammates circled around him, their faces etched with worry and fear. They knew this injury could end Harry's season, or even worse, his career.
Meanwhile, at the hospital, Louis sat anxiously in the waiting room, his heart pounding in his chest. He'd been watching the game at home on TV when he saw the collision. He'd never felt so helpless, so terrified. The moment the announcer said Harry had been taken to the hospital, Louis had rushed over, not even bothering to change out of his sweatpants. He just hoped he wasn't too late.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a doctor came out to speak with Louis. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst news.
"Your, uh," the doctor began, "Harry's injuries are quite severe. He has a concussion and a broken leg. He's going to need some time to recover, but I think he'll be okay in the long run." Louis exhaled in relief, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Can I see him?" he asked, his voice shaking.
"Of course," the doctor replied, leading him down the hall to Harry's room.
As they approached the door, Louis could hear Harry's muffled voice, barely audible over the beeping of the monitors. He opened the door hesitantly, not wanting to disturb his boyfriend. But as soon as Harry saw him, he let out a weak laugh and reached out, his hand trembling slightly.
"Hey," he whispered, "I thought you'd never get here." Louis smiled, taking Harry's hand in his own.
"I'd never leave your side," he said, squeezing it gently. "Not now, not ever." And with that, they both leaned in, their foreheads touching, finding comfort in each other.
The next few days passed in a blur for both of them. Louis spent every waking moment by Harry's side, talking to him, reading to him, and just being there.
Meanwhile, Harry struggled to come to terms with the severity of his injuries. His head throbbed constantly, and every time he tried to move, the pain in his leg sent sharp spikes of agony through his body. But despite the discomfort, he couldn't help but feel grateful for Louis's presence. It gave him a reason to keep fighting, to recover and get back on the ice.
As the days turned into weeks, Harry's recovery began to show signs of progress. The pain still lingered, but it wasn't as overwhelming as it had been before. He was finally allowed to sit up in bed, and even take a few tentative steps with the help of a walker.
Louis was ecstatic to see his boyfriend making progress, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of impending doom. He knew that Harry still had a long road ahead of him, and there were bound to be setbacks along the way. But for now, he was just happy to see him smiling again.
One afternoon, as Harry was resting after a particularly tiring session of physical therapy, Louis brought in his guitar. He strummed a few chords before launching into a soft, sweet melody. Harry's eyes lit up as he listened, a smile spreading across his face.
"That's beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. Louis smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at Harry's words. They sat there together, lost in the music, their hands intertwined, their hearts beating in perfect harmony.
As the weeks turned into months, Harry's recovery became more and more apparent. He was able to walk on his own, and even started skating again, albeit slowly and with caution. Louis was by his side every step of the way, offering encouragement and support. They both knew that Harry would never be able to play at the same level he had before the accident, but they also knew that he had something even more important now: each other.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Harry was given the green light to return to the ice. It was a bittersweet moment for both of them, tinged with excitement and fear. As Harry strapped on his skates and stepped out onto the rink, Louis could feel his heart racing in his chest. But when Harry turned to look at him, his eyes full of love and gratitude, Louis knew that they would get through this together. And so, hand in hand, they began their journey back to the game they both loved so much.
The first few practices were rough, both physically and emotionally. Harry's body ached from the countless hours of training and therapy, and his mind was still trying to come to terms with the limitations of his injuries. But with each passing day, he grew stronger, more confident. And as he saw the look of pride and admiration in Louis's eyes, he knew that he had nothing to prove to anyone but himself.
As the season progressed, Harry and Louis became inseparable both on and off the ice. They were no longer just teammates; they were family. Their bond had been forged in the fires of adversity, and it was stronger than ever. And even when the going got tough, they knew that they had each other's backs.
The final game of the season was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone involved. The crowd was on their feet, cheering for Harry and the rest of the team. But for Harry, it was more than just a game. It was a celebration of everything he'd been through, a testament to the power of love and determination. And when the final buzzer sounded, and the Blackhawks emerged victorious, Harry and Louis shared a moment that neither of them would ever forget. They embraced, tears streaming down their faces, their hearts overflowing with joy and gratitude. Because in that moment, they knew that they had each other, and that was all that mattered.
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Hello everyone!
I hope y'all are doing good :)
I decided to write another AU, hope you like it.
As always, feel free to comment feedback or requests.
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Larry Stylinson One Shots
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