Another World [Larry Stylinson]

Chapter Two - The News

Louis’ P.O.V.

Not paying attention to what was happening around me, I kept my gaze fixed on the suitcase that was lying next to my hospital bed. Throughout the days that I have been here, Harry brought me a suitcase of my clothes and essentials – but as I was now leaving, I was desperately stuffing every piece of clothing into the small space inside the bag. All I wanted to do was get out of this place.

I knew Harry was sitting on the edge of my bed, watching my every move. He really was worried about me – which I found nice, but he was sometimes overacting about the whole situation. I picked up the suitcase, trying to zip it up – but failed.

“Careful,” he muttered, rushing to my side.

“Harry, I can pack my suitcase by myself, you know.” I said for about the fifth time that morning. He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, as he gently placed the suitcase back on the floor and wrapped his right arm around my waist, pulling me towards the bed.

“What are you doing?” I questioned, raising my eyebrows.

He sat me down on the edge of the bed where he was sitting just moments ago, and flashed me a quick smile, before unwrapping his arm from around me and going back to the suitcase.

“You’re injured, I’m not. I should be helping you, so that’s what I’m going to do,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, as he unzipped the suitcase, taking out all the stuff that I messily stuffed into it.

“Don’t take it all out!” I exclaimed. “Took me ages!”

“Took you ages, yet you didn’t do it right,” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, shut up,”

I looked around my hospital room that I have stayed in for the past week. It was so white, no colours what-so-ever except from my bright clothes scattered all around the tile floor. Harry had a room too. But just for two days.

I gently lifted my right arm up, scanning the blue cast. Thankfully, the only injury I had was a broken arm – not too bad, if you ask me. Thinking about the things that could have happened instead of a broken arm, I was actually thankful that the only broken bone in my body was my elbow.

I looked up at Harry, who was in concentration, now folding a blue t-shirt of mine neatly on top of the small stack of other clothes. Nothing happened to him. Except for a small cut on his forehead where his head hit the shattered car window. It was now stitched. Thank god he was alright.

“So,” I said, my voice hoarse and throaty. “What’s the plan?”

He looked up at me, “We can…” he trailed off, pausing his actions and clearly thinking for a few seconds. “we can visit Niall, if you want?”

“Sure,”

He smiled and nodded, before turning back to the pile of clothes. My attention was completely focused on him, the way he neatly folded my clothes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed, the way he was biting his lip every so often, the way he was on his knees, kneeling down on the hard floor in front of my suitcase-

My thoughts got cut off as the door creaked open, the same nurse stepping in, flashing us both a quick a smile. She shuffled over to the bed, fixing the pillows and switching the nightlight off. We came to know her a little better over the past few days – learning that her name was Nurse Watson, she was married, with two daughters, and she worked in this hospital voluntarily. She turned to face us, smiling.

“Good morning, boys,”

“Hello, Nurse Watson,” Harry replied, giving her a small wave, his full concentration still on my suitcase which clearly didn’t seem to fit all the clothes in.