Bite The Bullet (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 4

Okaaay like I said on the DLS update, this may be the last update for a while because I am away for 2 weeks getting my gr. 12 bio credit. and I wont have a computer or wifi. I will try to get on the and=swer questions and comments and messages but I wont be able to post anything. 

i may be able to update again before I leave but i dont know. 

Anyways here is this chapter, sorry its kind of a filler. Im waiting to get to the good parts ;)

VOTE + FAN + COMMENT!! xo

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The next morning, I woke up with the light from the high windows spreading over the bed. I stretched my limbs and flopped back onto the mattress. I had just woken from the best sleep I had had in days. The bed, for one that was placed in a musty basement, was one of the most comfortable I have ever slept in.

But as I observed the dimly lit basement my heart sunk and the small smile on my lips faded.

I was still here.

A wave of homesickness washed over me and I gasped. Sudden memories of home and my mum and sisters ran through my mind.

Tears sprung to my eyes and I ran to the small bathroom that was in the basement. I leaned on the sink and tried to draw in air to my lungs.

My stomach lurched and I knocked over a glass toothbrush holder. It shattered on the ground into a bunch of tiny pieces. Hopefully Harry didn’t get pissed at me for that.

I kneeled down by the toilet my hands braced on the floor. The tiny pieces of shattered glass digging into my palm but I didn’t pay it any mind. My stomach lurched again and I heaved the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

I sat back against the cool tile when I was done, closing my eyes and trying to steady my jagged breathing.

-*-*-Harry’s POV-*-*-

The house was quiet. I had a rough relationship with my parents, especially my step dad, and I had moved out and gotten my own place the second I turned eighteen.

It was a small dingy little house but it was fit for me.

I was flicking through the useless shit on the telly when I heard a crash come from downstairs. What in the hell could that be? But my eyes flew open when the answer hit me.

Louis

I quickly stood up and rushed over to the basement door, I fumbled with the lock as it stuck while I tried to turn it.

Finally I succeeded in getting it open and I rushed down the stairs taking them two at a time.

“Louis?” I called out. I scanned the main room but it was empty. His bed was rumpled but empty as well. I finally saw the light from the crack under the bathroom door. I jerked it open and looked inside.

The sight filled me with horror. Louis was sat on the floor, his eyes closed. There was smashed glass all over the floor and some red smears, which could only have been blood, on the floor.

“Louis!” I rushed to his side. Careful to avoid the glass shards.

“Hey, Lou. Hey.” I said, patting his cheek. He stirred a bit and his eyes fluttered. His blue orbs were glassy. “Hey, Lou, wake up. C’mon let me see those beautiful eyes.” I coaxed.

He finally focused on me for a bit before his eyes squeezed closed again.

“Come on; let’s get you out of here.” I grabbed his arms and helped his stand on his feet. I reached down to grab his hands to guide him but pulled away when I saw the bits of blood on his palms.

Louis visibly winced when I touched his hands. He must have gotten glass in them when he knocked over, what I observed to be the toothbrush holder.

Eventually I got Louis to sit on the end of the bed, while I ran up to get a first aid kit. When I came back, he was brushing tears from his eyes. Perhaps the glass sharps were hurting?

I hated to see him cry. I knew the situation I put him in was hard and unfair but I couldn’t let him go now. Not only because what Liam said was true but because I couldn’t bear to let him go. My feelings for him were too far gone.

I quickly bandaged up his hands rolled the gauze over them as extra protection. When I was finished I held his small hands in my larger ones. He was cold and shaking.

“Louis, what happened?” I asked.

He looked away.

“I got sick,” He replied feebly.  I could tell there was more to the story than just that.

“How come?” I pried.

Suddenly his face turned hard. He looked at me and his features were pained and upset.

“Because I miss home, Harry! I woke up and I got homesick! I miss my mum and my sisters and my own goddamn house!” Tears leaked from the corner of his eyes and my heart clenched in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. I hated seeing him like this but…I loved him. I couldn’t let him go.

“If you were sorry you would let me go home! Harry please! I thought you were my friend!” He yelled.

I winced at that. Friend. I wanted him to be so much more than that.

“Help!” He screamed. “Somebody hear me!” He cried out. But I knew no one would hear him.

As if seeming to just realize I still held his hands in mine, he tore them free. It reminded me of the day before when he had stepped out of my embrace. However, this time it was harsher.

All of a sudden, he punched me in the chest. It wasn’t very hard considering he was probably pretty drained. What with being sick and crying and all.

He punched me again and again. I didn’t blame him so I let him go at it. Although they weren’t hard punches the repeated abuse was likely too leave a few bruises.

After a few minutes he still hadn’t stopped. I grabbed his wrists and he shrieked. Startled by my movements.

“Louis, stop.” I said.

“No!” He whimpered.

But despite his words of protest he fell back on the sheets of the bed. He buried his face in his pillow.

I could see his shoulders moving as he continued to cry. But there was nothing more I could do. I sighed and stood up from the bed. I walked over to the bathroom and started to clean up the mess on the floor. I didn’t want him to get hurt again.

I periodically checked in on Louis’ unresponsive form.

When my task was finished, I walked back upstairs and leaned against the door.  I slid down to the floor.  Things could only get better from here right? How could they get worse?

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