light || narry (slow updates)

vi. heal

Niall felt his chest tighten, as if there were no air in his lungs, causing him to let out small, rapid breaths.

He didn't even want to turn and see what was happening, scared of what'd he'd witness.

The sound was already frightening enough.

Niall, lost and cramped in his thoughts, jumped when a bloody hand helplessly slammed against the window, leaving stains on the glass from red and black inked fingertips.

Quickly, Niall unlocked the car's doors and Harry scrambled in, locking them just as fast. The blonde didn't know what to say, opening his mouth, but nothing came out. He was literally speechless.

"Are you okay? Are you alright?" Harry shot question after question, leaning over the console to get closer to Niall, who only scooted backwards and looked at him with wide, glistened blue eyes.

Harry immediately noticed the look of fear mixed with concern.

It was ironic how Harry was asking Niall if he was okay when he himself was injured.

It should be the other way around.

A slight, nervous chuckle escaped from Niall's trembling lips.

"M-me? Harry, I should be asking y-you that!" Niall gives him an incredulous look, gulping thickly, wincing at the dryness he felt.

"I'm perfectly fine, love. I want to make sure that you're okay. You matter so much," Harry breathes out, and Niall has noticed that even in such a state he still manages to look breathtaking with his lovely green eyes and silky long hair, voice soft and delicate, gentle.

Niall's heart fluttered at his words, feeling overwhelmed.

"I'm good, I promise. You need to get those wounds healed," Niall mutters the last bit to himself, inspecting the gash on Harry's arm from afar.

Niall figured he can use his mum's medical aid kit she always kept in the house, which does come in handy at times.

Especially in this case.

"Can you drive?" Niall turns to Harry who nods, showing that he's capable of doing so despite what he just experienced with the hellhound.

Niall wondered why his hands were covered in dry splotches of black and red. He'll just have to ask later.

Harry drove down the streets that were layered with a thin coat of snow, and to Niall's address, already knowing it by memory.

As he turned off the engine, Harry quickly got out of the car and limped his way around, opening the door for Niall who blushed profusely, murmuring a small "thank you."

Niall's fingers fumbled with the right key that fits into the door in front of them, and after what seemed an eternity, he finally managed to find the right one, and unlock it.

"I'll be right back, you can make yourself comfortable on the couch." Niall nods to the living room as they walked into the warm home, and lightly jogs to the cabinet in the bathroom, grabbing alcohol and a few bandages and cloths.

Niall tries to keep all of the materials in his small hands as he makes his way back, repeatedly catching the annoying bottle of disinfectant that kept slipping.

His feet seemed to have been glued to the wooden floor when his eyes land on Harry's bare back, meaning he had discarded his t-shirt.

When he said comfortable he didn't mean too comfortable.