Comforting Hands (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 8

Wait, what?! Could this be?! Yes, oh my god, it's me!!! WIth a new chapter!!! I know, I'm quite amazed as well. As someone nicely pointed out it's apperently been two years (I have no idea if that's correct or not but we can agree it's been a while). 

Last night I was really bored so I came here and read the entire fic again and, what can I say? I got inspirational again. Went back to write some more and so far it's going pretty nice. I can't promise I'm back completely and that I'm going to finish this fic, but for now I'm here. It's finally summer break and I have more time on my hands (even so, I still have three more exams). 

I think it's important to point out it has been a really long time, and not just for me, but for this fandom in general. A lot has changed. When I first started this fic we were all practically carrots: Niall was always associated with food, Liam was the responsible one, Zayn always checked his reflection and Louis walked around with striped shirts and suspenders. Those are just the small parts. There are also many things that changed with time, like, for example, Zayn's engaged. Things are different now and I'm actually not very updated with everything that's been going on. Anyway, I am going to treat the era of this story as it was back when I started this fic. Please take that into consideration.

Without any farther notes, I'd just like to say I missed you guys, I never forgot about you, it was wonderful to get all these reactions and attention from you and I was really happy to see that even after so long this fic is still read by a lot of people! 

This is a rather long chapter. As usual - Enjoy! 

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Chapter 8

Someone had opened the door for him, because his hands were covered with blood. It took Harry a few seconds to raise his head and look around, for many different reasons, like the fact he felt that if he took one more step forward he would start crying like a baby; he didn’t want all the photographers to see his face; he didn’t know if anyone outside the room heard Louis screaming. He really hoped they hadn’t heard, but when he finally looked up, he knew immediately that they have. They all have. The band, the security guards, the police officers that arrived to the hospital, the nurses, the doctors, the photographers and news reporters.

He felt a lump in his throat and regretted looking up. Everyone stared at him, shocked by his appearance, the blood all over his shirt and his hands, his pale face and red, wet eyes. No one knew exactly how to react. It was silent like a graveyard, except for beeping noises that some of the machines in the hospital were making.

The entire scene lasted for barely a minute, and felt as if it had lasted for barely a second, but a bit like a second too long. Two things happened at once: the reporters started to shout questions at Harry, the flashes of the cameras making sure to document every breath Harry took, and the guys launched themselves at Harry, both protectively and as a group of very good friends that just went through something very traumatic.

Neither of the boys hesitated when they hugged Harry tightly. They all didn’t seem to care if their clothes were going to get dirty from the blood on Harry’s.

“Harry, oh god, Harry are you alright? Is Louis alright?” Niall asked panickly, murmuring the question in Harry’s ear. “We, we heard sc-screamings...” he added with a low, frantic whisper. Harry sighed. So they did hear Lou...

Harry didn’t know how to response to those questions. Was Louis alright? Was he alright? He really didn’t know. His first reaction was to nod, but his head switched from nodding to shaking his head from side to side. His breaths were beginning to exhilarate, as his lungs were starting to get filled with tears, and he couldn’t remember for a second how to breath.