me, him, and the moon (larry au)

chapter three: harry

Harry groaned in agony as he clutched at his shoulder. The ground beneath him was hard, unforgiving. His back scorched in pain from falling in a heap of deadweight. The curls that once framed his face now fell around his cheeks, sweat beginning to dampen them. His fingertips wrapped themselves around the skin there, feeling a warm liquid escape from his fingers. He looked down momentarily to access the damage, and was met with a small puddle of blood forming around his body, and the shirt he was wearing completely soaked. "Fuck!" he exclaimed.

His head was swimming. The heated atmosphere around him weighed heavily on his chest, forcing his breaths to seem labored. His lungs threatened collapsing, at least that's what Harry envisioned. His arm, from the skin that met his collarbone to the very tips of his fingers was becoming numb. It wasn't a horrible numb, but he couldn't feel the movement of his appendage. Harry tried all he could to force his hand to move, but was left with nothing.

While being on the ground, Harry hadn't stopped to look for the animal that bit him. He quickly looked up from his place on the concrete road, scanning every piece of land to make sure the thing was no where in sight. He let his head lull back in pain after looking around for a bit, the agony getting to much for him to handle.

"Hey, kid!" a voice called from down the street. Harry could only groan at the human.

"Please," Harry whimpered, tears now streaming down his cheeks. He rolled over on the opposite side of the wound, relieving some of the pressure. The figure was now standing above Harry, and through hooded eyes, Harry could make out the face of a young man. His face was pronounced, and he was tall. Harry let his head hit the ground as the boy leaned down and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, earning a grimace of pain, and a hiss through Harry's teeth. "Please help me," Harry seethed. The man gently rolled Harry to lay flat on his back.

"What's your name, bud?" he asked Harry. Harry clenched his jaw as his shoulder hit the ground again and all but yelped out in pain. "Hey, hey, I'm going to help you, okay?" he cooed. Harry forced his eyes open and nodded the best he could. In one swift motion, the boy had slipped his shirt over his head and held it over Harry's shoulder.

"Stop," Harry begged, knowing what he was going to do, but hoping he wouldn't. "Fucking hurts."

"Just trust me," the boy offered. With that, he shoved Harry's hand away and pushed the fabric into the wound as hard as he could. Harry yelled out in pain at the contact, his vision going white and his stomach churning with nausea. "Gotta stop the bleeding," the boy soothed. Harry gripped his hands with both of his own and held on tight, thinking that maybe if he tried hard enough, he could wretch the boy's hands away.

"Really fucking hurts," Harry mumbled under his breath. His words were starting to blend together, and his mouth felt like his tongue was too big for it, and his lips were lagging.

"Liam, what the fuck?!" a new voice shrieked. Harry turned his head to see two more boys running in his direction.

Harry yelped as Liam twisted his hands in a different spot. At Harry's pain-ridden shrills, the blonde reached down and pushed Harry's curls away from his face, which were now covered in his own blood. "Fucking Christ, Liam," he noted. Harry looked up and met the blonde's gaze, his piercing blue eyes shining straight through his own. Harry felt like his eyes were starting to roll back into his skull when the blonde shook him harshly. "Don't go passing out on me, mate. Stay with me. Can you tell me your name?" he asked.

Harry was out of breath. His chest heaved like he was trying to get more oxygen into his bloodstream. His entire body shook with tremors, pain radiating from the top of his head and down to his toes. Harry grunted out huffs of air, trying to calm himself. "Harry," he managed, reached out a hand to clutch onto the blonde's tightly.