Green Eyes | Larry Stylinson ❀

The First Date

  It's been almost a week since Harry first arrived to the hospital, and Louis has spent every moment there. In the waiting room. Sleeping on the too small chairs and curled up in a ball. Day four, Anne urges him to go home. To get proper sleep in his bed and to shower. Essentially, she wants him to have a change of scenery because the constant view of the hospital walls are doing no good. It's much needed, too. Considering his back has progressively been getting worse since the first night he slept in those chairs.

Upon entering the door, he's immediately hit with a citrus scent. It reminds him of the day Harry flooded their apartment outlets with those fragrance plugs. He had been on a citrus floral kick for awhile, and now that Christmas has passed, he wanted to get into the spring flavor. It brings a smile to his face as he steps into the living room. The fragrance reminds him of orange pineapple. Tropical.

Then another reality sits as he glances over towards the couch. It was the last place the two of them had been together before the accident. He remembers so vividly holding Harry in his arms and kissing away his giggles. Their morning had been so light and cuddly. Happy. And now, it's empty. The apartment is empty, and a heavy weight settles deep within his chest. He knew coming back would be difficult, especially if it was without Harry.

It fucking sucks because everywhere he looks, he's hit with a memory of Harry. Of these tiny little moments they shared with one another. Secret kisses and sneaky touches.

Louis heads over towards the bedroom and freezes at the door. The bed is still made from that morning when Harry had forced him to do the sheets. This is the place he shares every night with him. They always fall asleep next to one another, cuddled up like a big and little spoon. Tonight would be the first night he would lay there alone, without his boy. The thought brings on a new wave of emotions, but the urge to cry never comes on. He feels dull. Blank. As if everything is bottling up inside of him and refusing to come out. It won't be the same laying on his pillow tonight knowing his arms will be empty and no curls suffocating his nose.

The first thing he does is head into the washroom, stripping off his clothes and jumping into the shower. It's hard to think or properly feel with knowing that the love of his life is laying in a hospital bed right now. Unconscious. On a ventilator. The water is nice and cold at first, sending a shiver down his spine until it finally warms. The shower ends up feeling wonderful and much needed. It's been a few days since his last one, and he can't help but use Harry's stuff just to feel somewhat close to him. So he can have a reminder of his smell.

As of now, Harry no longer smells his usual self. It's all alcohol pads and sterile. Like the hospital. He no longer has that sweet vanilla and kiwi scent lingering on his body. Maybe one day Louis can convince the nurses to give him a sponge bath, at least now that all his incisions have relatively healed up. The thought makes him laugh a bit, and he leans his head forward on the shower wall and let his eyes slip shut, trying to imagine how mortified Harry would be if he found out. He would absolutely hate him.

The shower last longer than expected, but eventually Louis steps out with pruny fingers and toes. He's felt as if he's washed enough of the week away to where he's somewhat fresh and clean, but the lingering reminder of Harry not being there still hangs over his head like a cloud. Grabbing a towel, Louis wraps one around his waist and walks over towards the dresser. He decides to rummage through Harry's clothes, wanting to feel even closer by wearing something of his. The first thing he finds is a black jumper with Minne Mouse designed on the front.

Once he has that in his hands, he brings it up to his nose to smell. Relief instantly floods his systems when it still smells of Harry's scent. And when he puts it on, it feels like a warm hug of the boy's arms around his body. It's exactly what he needs right now. To be doused in everything that is Harry. He goes for a pair of his sweat pants as well and then heads to the bed, plopping down in the center of the mattress and burying himself underneath the covers.