Immortally Mine (Larry)

Chapter Four

-

I found the entrance to my hotel once again and went inside. I tried to keep to the side so I wouldn't be very noticeable to anyone in the lobby, though it's hard not to notice a teenage boy covered in blood and dirt and spit and bruises, stiffly trudging through the hotels main lobby. I held my hand tight against my side to set back the bleeding.

I passed through a long hallway and found the toilet. I locked the door and switched on the light then turned to the mirror. There was blood everywhere; down my shirt and pants, all around my fingers and dripping from my elbows. I gasp at the first sight and brought one hand to my mouth, covering it and letting tears roll down my cheeks and onto the floor.

At this point I just wasn't quite sure of what there was to do. I couldn't tell anyone, as I said before, as long as I wanted to stay on the XFactor. But it was also hard for me to simply take care of myself, I couldn't wrap up and disinfect a horrid bloody bite from an unknown monster.

The first thing I thought to do was rinse it out, so I turned on the sink and grabbed a paper towel and soaked up some water to clean the wound up with. My hands were shaking uncontrollably and I was struggling to reach into the bite to clear it up.

The pain got just that much worse when the cold paper towel. I grunted in agony but bit roughly down on my lip to keep quiet. I kept on dabbing but it just got worse and worse to clear it up so I stopped.

There was nothing better in there to use as a bandage than a roll or toilet paper from under the sink, so I wrapped my entire waist up with multiple layers. I broke it off and tucked it in, then pulled my shirt down so you couldn't see.

I looked like an absolute wreck. My hair was rustled and dirty, my shirt looked lumpy from the toilet paper underneath and my shirt was still incredibly nasty while drenched with my own blood. My pants were ripped at the knees from falling on the cement and my face had also been scratched up and torn.

Still not wanting to be noticed and called attention to, I washed my face and my arms in the sink to remove all blood and dirt. However, it seemed that there was nothing I could do to cover up the blood drawn against my shirt or the rips in my pants. I figured that I would just have to make a run for it and avoid as many faces as I can.

The door had a loud and obnoxious squeak that echoed as I opened it, and didn't bother shutting it as I sped down the hallway and into the elevator, which fortunately had no one in it.

My next challenge was to make my way into the hotel room without Gemma or Mum noticing I had been out for so long and also that I am merely bleeding to death.

I had my own key in which I inserted into the lock and opened the door as silent as I possibly could, but that didn't help anything, my mother had already noticed.

"Harry?" She said. Good thing that she happened to be sitting in the far bedroom, with the tv on and she couldn't see me at the door unless she walked out. "Harry is that you?"

"Yes Mum," I replied, trying to keep my voice sounding as normal as I could through the crying and the shock I was in.

"Well, where have you been? Are you okay?" I heard her sit up off the bed and start walking towards the door, but I needed to completely avoid her so I quickly ran into the toilet.

"I'm fine. I just need a quick shower." I yelled through the door.

"How was practicing with the boys? Are they nice?" She was now standing right outside the door. This was the worst possible time for a conversation such as this.

"It was great. Boys are great. But Mum, listen, I am really tired and need sleep. I'm gonna take a shower and then get in bed."

"Are you feeling okay? You sound a bit ill-"

She could tell that my voice was shaken and I was clearly overtired.

"I'm fine. Goodnight!" I said as joyfully as I could.

She waited to reply. I had always been a terrible liar. "Goodnight." I heard her footsteps fade off from the doorway.

I let out a deep sigh and began crying again. I slid down the back of the door and sat on the floor with my knees pulled to my chest and I sunk my head down with them. I was so scared, more scared than I had ever felt in my lifetime.

Though I didn't want to, I knew it was best to hop into the shower and clean up my cuts. I put the water on just between hot and cold, then got myself undressed while grabbing all the supplies I needed to wash.

I took of my trousers and pants first, then my shirt. As I lifted it off, I noticed that there wasn't as much blood as there had been from earlier holding onto the cloth of the shirt. In fact, there wasn't much blood at all; even most the wound had healed.

I looked around in the mirror at it from different angles, opened and closed my eyes, wondering if I was just being tricked, but no. The bite was almost completely healed up and vanished. How could that be possible? It had only been an hour at most, and the blood couldn't have cleared up itself.

Sliding my hand up and down the bruise, I watched as the purple marks and slightly torn areas of flesh stitched themselves up without any help from me at all.

"Holy shit," I gasp.

"Harry?" I hear my mother.

"Nothing, Mum." I shout back out, then pulling my attention back to my waist line. I had looked away for one second just to speak with my mum, but in that split second the entire injury had treated itself and completely disappeared.

"What the..?" I felt around and indeed, there was not even a slight scratch. I breaths harder, confused and now afraid, what was happening to me? This wasn't normal, and I was scared now.

-

That night I laid in the warm hotel bed, praying that this entire night had just been a bizarre dream. I couldn't seem to stop shaking, my hands were vibrating nervously and all my muscles hurt severely. I couldn't sleep, it was far past midnight and I was still wide awake because of the insane thoughts rushing in and out of my head.

I kept my hand under my shirt in the same spot that I was bitten, feeling it around and sure enough there was nothing there.

Maybe it was just a hallucination, maybe the boys and I had just gone a bit wild and nothing actually happened to me, or Zayn. I forced myself to believe that nothing was really wrong and I was just overreacting so I would finally go to sleep.