27 Minutes (Larry Stylinson)

Already broken

Harry POV

Hospitals are a scary place. A place of the unknown, a place of dreaded fate that you can never change. The brilliant white walls, far to shiny waxed floors, and people walking around looking either fake or miserable. Families waiting in lounge chairs, nurses and doctors bustling around from place to place. You can hear coughs and whimpers coming from all around in each direction. There's no place or corner you can escape to in the building that will take you away from the darkness that looms over everyone. The air pulses thick with sadness, anger and hope.

Hope is the one thing you see the most of. People with longing looks on their faces praying, wishing, hoping for the outcome they deem the best. Spending the late hours of the night staring at an empty wall, or looking at the doors that hold their loved ones just on the other side. Every part of them bursting with questions and wanting answers.

That's me in this moment, except for I can't be still. I stand pacing in the waiting room, staring down those damn double doors that hold my life on the other side of them. Screaming in my mind for every nurse or doctor that runs through them to tell me what's going on, but none of them do. The others are here just sitting or whispering to each other. I even heard a laugh a few moments ago and I sneered in disgust. How could you laugh at a time like this? A time where we have no fucking clue what's happening right now or what our life will be like in the moments that someone tells us what the hell is going on.

Our life could be forever changed and someone is just sitting here acting as if there is nothing going on around them. I have the urge to wrap my frail hands around their neck squeezing the life out of them, but the thought of it only brings back the images of what I lived through just a few short hours ago.

I have never in my life been so petrified of what I saw. I still don't know how I managed to make myself move forward and pull him out of the water. Red water. So deeply red as blood oozed from various cuts on his naked body. Words carved out by a blade right next to his tattoos. Words of apologies and love. Words that I'd rather hear spoken than to see forever ingrained into his body.

My mind can barely process all the details of what I saw. I'm sure I look pale and sick as I pace back and forth in the waiting room but I can't stop the images from coming. His body felt so cold against mine, so very fragile, almost like with any slightest shift he would crumble and break like glass around me. His skin so light, and almost blue like his lips. My fingers ghosted across his still beautiful lips in an urgent moment before they took him from me. I screamed and thrashed only wanting him back in my arms but someone held me back.

"Give him BACK!" I screamed, kicking the person behind me with force. They couldn't take him away from me, I needed him.

"Harry! Stop! They're trying to help him!" The person screams back at me. My mind is so hazy with anger and fear that I can't bring myself to recognize who it is. Can't even bring myself to care. All I care about is the pale, unmoving figure of my life laying still on the floor as Paramedics work over him.

"No!" I yelled again. "He needs ME!" I sobbed harshly. I strained against the very strong arms and kicked even more as I saw them lay him onto a stretcher and run out of the room with him.

"LOUIS!" I bolted forward with tears streaming down my face in rivers. My nose red and running, face a ghostly white as I try to reach my Louis.

Strong arms gripped me again, pulling me back and sending a string of curse words from my mouth. I couldn't think about anything other that needing to be near him, holding him against me so he wouldn't leave me again.