things i can't (l.s)

Chapter 16

Louis' POV:

Class had begun and Harry was no where in sight. I had just walked in with him before first period, where was he?

I watched as someone opened the door, thinking it was Harry, but all I saw was Zayn stumbling in. Was that blood on his knuckles? My heart started racing and my hands started sweating as Zayn gave me a wry smile. I knew what had just happened. Harry couldn't have possibly ran home after that- he had to have still been at school, lying around somewhere, broken and bleeding. Before Mr. Brooklyn could stop me, I was out the door. I just needed to find Harry- I knew he hadn't just skipped school. He was always here from what I've seen. I decided to check by Harry's locker, Zayn probably knew exactly where that was. I did too- I may or may not have stalked him once or twice over the past two weeks. I walked past it and saw that no one was there. I searched around the hallway, but still, there was no sight of my angel. I turned around to check the bathrooms. Maybe he went in here to clean himself up- I'm sure he wouldn't want anyone seeing him after Zayn had done that to him. He was probably humiliated, the poor thing.

I was just about to enter the bathroom near our class when Zayn walked up to me.

"You really fucked up when you hit me the other day. I woke up alone on the ground a half hour after school got out. If you think you can get away with that, you're mistaken," he said with a smug grin on his face. "I'll have you know that I'm not gonna hurt you, Louis. I'm just gonna keep hurting Harry. I know you're a faggot too, now, after seeing that message you sent to Harry. You guys seem to be just so happy together and I won't allow Harry to be happy. And now that you've messed with the wrong guy, you'll be getting punished vicariously through him. I hope punching me and getting your ounce of satisfaction was worth it."

I couldn't take it anymore. He thought he was going to continue hurting my Harry? He was wrong- so wrong.

"Fuck off, Zayn. Harry means a lot to me and you won't be hurting him again. If you so much as lay a finger on him again, you'll be sorry. I'll kick your ass so bad, you won't even know what happened to you,"

I got close to his face, eyes locked on his, and said,

"Touch him again and I'll hospitalize you,"

He laughed sarcastically and walked back into class.

I rushed into the bathroom. Harry wasn't there. I looked under each stall, just to make sure. I saw a limp body on he ground and recognized it as him, my angel.

"Oh no, baby, it's alright," I raced over to the stall and kicked it over and over until it opened. What I saw was something that changed everything. Harry was bleeding- not only on his face from Zayn's punches, but on his arm.

They were what looked like self-inflicted cuts. Harry was lying on the ground, unconscious and bleeding. I walked him over to the sink to help clean him up before the injuries got infected and slung him over my back. I grabbed my backpack and house keys and made my way to my house. He was so weightless in my arms, he didn't slow me down from jogging there.

Once home, I took him straight to the couch to lay down. I watched as he groaned slightly in his unconscious state. I was just glad to know he was okay. If he was groaning, he was okay. I ran upstairs to fetch some cleaning supplies and bandages. Thankfully, from my football days, there were heaps of bandages that could cover almost any wound. Before I started bandaging Harry's arm, I went and got him some ice for his forehead and face.

I placed the cold bag on his head and the coolness of the ice woke him up. He flinched slightly before opening his eyes. He opened them slowly, and finally, his eyes adjusted to the light. He looked at me, confused.

"What h-happened?" He asked.

Before I could say anything, I started crying. A single tear escaped my eye and I held up his not yet bandaged wrist.

He looked at me with fear and quickly snatched his arm away from my grasp.

"Y-you weren't supposed to know about this," he said, starting to hyperventilate. I saw the shock and fear in his eyes as he started to break into an anxiety attack.

"Harry, calm down. Just tell me why you do this," I croaked out. I began to rub circles over his cheek to get his breathing under control.

"Please, baby, just tell me why," I cried out.

He gazed at me and started to slow his breathing.

"I told you I wasn't good for you. I told you I was a freak. I told you-"

My lips were on his. It was a brief, sweet kiss, but that's what I wanted. I wanted him to feel as though this was not going to make me leave. It wasn't going to.

He started to cry and I held his wrist up.

"This doesn't make you a freak. This makes you a survivor. And I'm gonna do whatever it takes to help you keep surviving. I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make you feel like this life is worth living."

I started bandaging him up. I went slowly, careful not to hurt him, and finally finished. I held his newly bandaged arm up to my mouth and kissed it gently.

"I'm gonna make the pain go away," I promised.

He sobbed softly and pulled me into another kiss. It tasted like the mixture of each other's tears and I was so happy to feel his lips on mine.

"Lou... Thank you," he looked down at the white bandage and forced a smile.

"Always, angel."

He pressed his forehead onto mine and I pecked his nose.

Silence invaded the room. I needed to ask him something I'd wanted ever since my eyes locked with his the day we met.

"Be my boyfriend, H?"

His eyes turned up to face mine and he wiped away another tear as he said,

"I'd want nothing more."

With that, I laid him down onto my bed and cuddled him until I knew he was asleep.

I'm gonna make it go away. I'm gonna make the pain go away.