"Your mom is on her way." Louis says.
Mom. Harry thinks.
"But she's in the United States, isn't she?" Harry asks.
"She's on the plane, Hazza." Louis tells him, coming closer.
The Hazza nickname makes Harry want to throw up. Who the fuck is he to call him that?
"Don't." Harry mutters briefly. "What happened?"
"Car accident." Louis whispers.
Harry wants to fucking slap him. "I heard the doctor."
"You were on your way to my house." He says.
"You- you were on your way to my house, but you-" Louis feels his throat closing. "You were drunk. You were so, so drunk."
Harry gasps. He remembers a little tiny bit only.
"You were dead, Harry!" Louis tells at him as angry tears start streaming down his face.
"You were dead! The doctor said you had died!" He keeps yelling at him, and Harry feels sick and dizzy, sick and dizzy.
"But I'm alive." Harry manages to whisper.
"But you were dead, fucking idiot!" Louis cries. "I was watching as they took your body!"
"Your car was a fucking mess, you fucking asshole!" The tears keep falling.
"Louis," Harry tries.
"I saw you dying." Louis gasps.
YOU ARE READING
Chance - (by @UnitedByLarry)
Genç KurguHe hears a voice scream, but he isn't able to recognize who's the owner. He still can't breathe, can't find the air. "Harry, Harry, please stay with me." A sweet, low voice begs him, and, somehow, it sounds so, so familiar to him. He knows that voic...
