You Are My Light {Larry Stylinson}

Chapter 4: Lithium

Louis' hand found the hard concrete quickly, shifting uncomfortably from the physical contact which he was experiencing with Harry. Harry's left hand was pressed against Louis' face, while his other was supporting his shoulder, the warmth spreading from Harry's hand into Louis' icy skin was so comforting, but he shifted away, whining quietly.

"Lemme' go." Louis protested weakly, attempting to push himself up from Harry, but falling back weakly onto him.

Harry wondered why Louis was being odd, and squirming away, suddenly beginning to worry he was hurting Louis in some unknown way.

"What's wrong pup?" He whispered, more to himself than Louis, to which Louis only replied with the same, strangled whimper. Harry sighed and gently yanked Louis up from his half-lying position and lay him against the stone bench slowly. Louis' quiet protestations seemed to cease shortly after, and the two of them fell into a tense silence.

The silence was broken a minute later by heavy, broken gasps from Louis. Harry's head whipped up, his curls haphazardly falling into his wide, green eyes.

"I can't breathe." Louis whined, his gasps becoming louder and more raspy with each passing moment, as his lungs burned for oxygen. Harry's heart quickened as he instinctually pulled Louis off the stone bench and placed his back against his chest.

'Anaemia.' Harry thought, groaning at his stupidity.

'The weakness, the pale colour. Fucking hell Harry.' He thought gravely to himself.

He came around to Louis' side and dropped his head so he was talking directly into Louis' ear.

"Put your head between your legs." Harry commanded gently. Louis resisted initially, but eventually succumbed with Harry's huge hands twined in his hair and gently pulling Louis' head towards his legs. After another minute or so, Louis felt the air begin to filter properly back into his lungs. His vision began to become more focused, and the white spots slowly disappeared he sighed with relief, thanking his lucky stars Harry was around. However the concept of Harry not finding him was a sickeningly attractive thought to Louis. In that moment he realised how sick he really was.

His thoughts reached perfect clarity too soon. He realised where he was, that people could be watching, laughing, pointing. He stopped his thoughts in his tracks for a moment and listened. All he heard was slight tweets of nearby birds, no jeers, no taunts. He became slightly less rigid and relaxed back into the hardness of the rough, stone bench, idly wondering where Harry had gone.

'Probably realised I'm a basket case.' Louis chuckled without humour, sighing immediately after. His eyebrows knotted together, indicating he was deep in thought.

'This stone is really fucking warm.' He muttered, gently trying to move about a bit and see if his strength was returning. Although it was returning slowly, a simple gesture like shifting his weight from the right to the left exhausted him, his eyes fluttered dangerously and he leaned his head back into the bench, expecting his head to come into contact with the rough stone, however his head made contact with soft skin.

He thought nothing of it at first, and then his heart caught in his mouth. The bench was actually Harry.

"Oh fuck." Louis said as loudly as his quiet nature permitted him, as he felt a sudden surge of strength flow through him and he crawled away from Harry as fast as he could without making himself faint again and landed on his backside on the ground.

He looked up to see Harry sitting cross legged across from him, a puzzled pout fused with concern lay upon his lips. Louis dropped his eyes to his hands which he folded and knotted in his lap repeatedly to give his absent mind something to do. The fragile, crystalline silence was broken by the carving of an Adonis before Louis.