I Hate You (Larry Stylinson) ✅

9. hospital

Feb 18 (cont)

"Fuck, is he okay?" Harry asks, rushing over to Liam.

"I think so," Niall replies. "He punched the wall - I haven't see his hand. Let's just get him outside."

I don't even say anything. I'm kind of just like wow, thank god I had those extra drinks with Harold. Gonna need it.

Once we make it out the exit, Niall sits Liam down against the wall. We all surround him looking at him like he just gave birth. 

"Are you good?" I ask, looking into his eyes. He honestly seems fine to me. Not hurt, just sad. But he doesn't answer. His eyes are all teary like and he looks down at his shoes, ignoring me.

"Liam, just tell us. How bad is the hand?" Harry asks, kneeling down next to him.

Liam looks at Harry and actually answers this time without hesitation.  Wow. Guess he likes Harold better than me.

"Nowhere near as bad," Liam growls, "as the pain in my heart."

"Okay," Niall says, taking a deep breath. "I booked an Uber. I didn't put in a location. Are we going home or to the hospital?"

Harry peers down at Liam's hand. "Hospital mate," he says, his eyes widening. "One of his fingers is like backwards... holy fuck!"

"What the fuck?" I ask. I bend down and try to get a closer look at his hand, which is congealed with blood and yup - finger completely hanging off.

I instantly turn and start to vomit on the sidewalk.

Honestly, I guess I should feel gross or embarrassed about it but I'm kind of happy. I got rid of the calories without even doing anything on purpose. And to me, that's a win. That means I'm one step closer to my goal, and one step further from fatness.

Wiping my lips, I hold back a smile. Feeling invigorated, pure.

"Oh god, Lou," Harry groans, wrinkling his nose and shooting me a grossed out look.

Rude.

"Sorry," I say with an eye roll. "Weak stomach."

"Fuck, okay, don't panic," Niall says. 

But of course we panic. I can see his face turning pale and I'm sure mine is too. I feel bad for Li, but damn this is just too gross.

"Should we just call an ambulance then?" I ask. "If it's that bad?"

"No," Liam says, jumping up. "No, don't wanna Pay for that. We will just Uber."

"Aight," Niall replies. "Should be here in a minute."

Eventually a car pulls up, though it feels like eternities later. It's like silver or whatever, and we all hop in. Liam sits in the middle and we cover his hand with one of our jackets because if the driver sees that backwards finger shit he will probably throw up too. Or maybe even kick us out of the car.

"Here, perfect!" Niall says, hopping out of the car as we reach the hospital parking area.

I grab Liam's arm and help him out of the other side of the car. He's starting to look all pale now and wincing kind of. Poor lad.

The hospital is sort of a blur. At this point it's like 2am and I'm super drunk, sleepy and just puked. I don't really have my wits about me, and honestly, I don't give a damn.

After we get inside, we check liam in and sit in the waiting room. The hospital staff gets to him pretty quick - probably because if they don't, he will need to amputate his finger or some shit. Yikes.