all we can do is keep breathing

one.

take my heart in your hands.

||☤||

"Tomlinson! Rounds!"

A loud, hurried voice echoes down the hallway, jolting Louis awake instinctually. He sits straight up on the abandoned gurney he'd passed out on a few short hours ago, sleepily flipping his wrist to get a good view of his watch.

5:56 A.M.

Morning rounds start in four minutes.

"Shit." Louis huffs under his breath, hopping off the gurney in an instant as his groggy brain tries to catch up with his body. He hastily stuffs his arms into the sleeves of his white coat, bundling up all his crap and scattered charts and hightailing it down the empty hall. Whoever it was that gave him that timely wake up call is now long gone, bolting off to make sure they're on time. Such is the life of an intern.

Louis considers taking the elevators, but they always take eons to queue up and he will certainly be late by the time he even gets onto the lift. Which means he only has three minutes to somehow climb four fights of stairs from the basement, cross the east foyer, climb two more flights of stairs and make it to the surgical wing in time for rounds.

Easy.

There have been closer calls. Times when Louis made it to rounds with only mere seconds to spare, but Louis is never late for rounds. Never. And although he's come close more times than he can count, the price for selling his soul for a few minutes of sleep, he's never ever late.

Louis makes his way across the hospital grounds, booking it as fast as his legs will carry him. He spots Niall across the foyer, moving just as quick as Louis. Out of all the surgical interns in their class at Seaside Seattle Medical Center, Louis and Niall are always the ones cutting it dangerously close.

"Morning champ." Niall nods as Louis scurries to catch up to him, aligning their rushed strides.

"Hey Horan. You sleep here too?"

"I had too." Niall sighs, taking in a massive gulp of his iced coffee. "I've been monitoring urine output from a whipple patient last night. I only ran out to get coffee. Got you a latte."

"Ugh, bless you." Louis sighs in thanks as he eagerly takes the warm cup, welcoming the sight of caffeine. "God, I love you."

"Yeah, yeah. You got me last time so I figured I'd return the favor." Niall shrugs easily, offering a small smile. "Were you on-call last night? I didn't see you on the floor."

"Ohh..." Louis sighs heavily, recounting the lackluster events of his highly regrettable evening. "Nah, I had last night off so I went on a blind date—a horrible, god-forsaken blind date. And you know I already hate blind dates on principle, they're cringy and awkward and just...embarrassing. But, I dunno...I decided to give it a go because it's been awhile since I attempted to date anyone and he seemed kinda cute or cute enough, so why the fuck not, right?"

"Right, I suppose." Niall nods agreeably, still sipping on his drink.

"Not right. Sooo not right." Louis shakes his head, with wide eyes and another regretful sigh. Louis knew it was bad when his date happily informed him that he lived in his parent's basement and he seemed to have no plans of ever moving out. Ever. Plus, he was so handsy, they'd known each other for all around 10 minutes and the man was already trying to feel Louis up in the cramped booth of the restaurant. And to make matters worse, the conversation between them was nearly nonexistent and all the guy wanted to talk about was his extremely invested hobby of bird watching—which, what the fuck? Bird watching, seriously? Louis was out of there, faking an emergent page to the hospital before they even placed their dinner order. "Next time I go in search of love and validation, do me a favor and stop me, yeah?"