Switching Bodies *2024 update*

12.

Louis' palms were seeping sweat, beads of the tangy moisture collecting by the nape of his neck and on his top lip. He felt queasy to the core, his innards churning at every slight or glimpse at his friend's grim condition. His throat prickled in the most discomforting way, and the unyielding grip he had on the bathroom door handle slackened, as he took in the flowing crimson. Clear revulsion showing through his expression, Louis held back gags and gasps. 

Harry's large, bony fingers were tightly glued together. Crimson leaked, slyly, through minuscule gaps in his rigid fingers. The blood was pooling at a blinding rate, he kept his hand steady so that it dutifully took the shape of a cup, letting the blood trickle freely into the curved, basin-shape. His fingers collapsed the instant his hips and stomach collided with the chilling marble border of the sink, the blood splattering into the pristine alabaster bowl. The drain swallowed the blotchy vermilion stains, with the help of gushing tap water, that guided the blood to the drain. 

Breaking from his brief shock, Louis choked bitterly and he pushed open the bathroom door, lunging to help his friend wash away the bloody mess. His hands held a tremble every time he'd come close to having to wash away a new wave of red. 

Having the water wipe away the blood, Harry turned to face the boy helping him to his unmade bed. Louis' hair was disheveled, hands lightly resting on Harry's shoulder and low back, helping guide him steadily towards the bed. 

"I need to take..." Harry mumbled, huffing a bit. His hair was falling into the curves of his lashes. Noticing his discomfort Louis flicked back the long curls. 

"Take what?" Louis asked softly. 

"Inhaler." 

Louis' arms almost dropped. Keeping himself calm, he questioned, "Where is it?" 

"By the dresser." 

Louis let go of Harry, albeit hesitantly, as the lanky boy looked to be struggling with walking in a straight line, continuously stumbling and tripping his way to the bed. Though, the thing was, Harry was naturally quite a klutz, so Louis didn't know whether to be worried or take it as nothing unnatural. 

Clanking through the dressing table contents Louis pushed items aside thoroughly, remaining deep in search for the inhaler. Pushing back his hair he grabbed for the greenish-blue inhaler with a small sigh relaying utmost relief.

"Thank you." 

"You're alright."

Harry carefully brought the inhaler to his dry lips, taking in deep breaths as the medicine helped rid of the wheeze in his chest.  

Louis' eyebrows knitted in fascination as he curiously watched his mate take the medicine. He never knew Harry had had asthma. And this came as a bit of a shock to him. Although it was nothing compared to the shock Louis, Zayn and Niall were about to give Harry and Liam. Less than a day left. He was bubbling with nerves.

"Hey, are you feeling well enough to come down for dinner?"

Harry gave Louis an apologetic nod. "I think I'll rest a bit."

Louis smiled, and then gave the boy a nod. "Yeah, alright, call if anything happens, yeah?" he pat Harry on the shoulder.

Harry replied with a small, "Yes, of course, thank you."

Leaving Harry to snuggle up in a tight ball he fled down the corridors, this time making sure not to fall over anyone. The stairs were a blur and he was thankful that he'd chosen them instead of the flashy lift. Strangers weren't something he wanted to deal with in this moment as he had to inform the others of Harry's health and how he was beginning to worry. 

The staircase came to an abrupt end surprisingly - Louis reckoned he'd ran down the whole thing - and he soon enough found the entrance to the dining hall; not so surprisingly his mates were the only three there and seemed to be in a heated argument. 

"Well what? What's going on? Are you two-" Louis frowned at what he was hearing. His pulse fastened and he felt the need to announce his presence. 

"Hey, calm-"

Before Niall had the chance to calm Liam and Zayn, Louis intervened, saying the only thing that came to mind, "He's too tired. He's resting in for the moment."

Zayn looked defeated though he kept his jaw steeled and fingers together in his lap. "I need to see him now." And before Louis, Niall or Liam had the chance to stop him or saying anything to change his mind, Zayn was off, and unlike Louis, he skipped up the stairs, going up two at a time. 

Silence. So thick that Louis reckoned it'd shatter if he so much as breathed any louder than he was, and he knew he was breathing pretty loudly through the looks Niall was giving him. 

Liam coughed. And bam. It was broke. Louis shuddered, and for the first time since Liam and Harry's return noticed the light bruising under Liam's eyes. His fingers twitched to touch the delicate skin just to know that it was real, that all this was real and that he and Zayn were possibly ruining the band's and their own futures by going forward with the switch. 

Louis checked the time on his phone, briefly chuckling at his lock screen, it was about eleven and they had around twelve hours to go to prepare themselves. And oh lord was he scared. Scared didn't even begin to cover what he was feeling inside. 

Niall then spoke, "How is he?"

Louis replied before he could stop himself. "Sick," he clamped his mouth shut right after, regretting it. "I mean," he continued. "He's alright now. He's just tired." 

Liam watched Louis with what could be seen as hurt. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, he's alright lad."

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