Comforting Hands (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 1

Alright! Here it is! Chapter number 1 in my very first Larry Stylinson fanfiction who is currently called "Comforting Hands"! I hope you'll like it! Enjoy :-)

Chapter 1

They were at a pub. The Miracle or The Mushroom or The Nuthouse… something like that. With an M or an N at the beginning. Louis didn't really remember. Well, after all, he only glanced at it for a second before entering the pub.

 They did if after every concert; going to a club, or a restaurant or a pub. Even if that concert was a bad one or a good one, they always went out to celebrate. If it was a bad one, then they celebrated it because it was over now, and they were ready to move on, or at least forget about it for the next few hours with the helpful use of that thing called alcohol. If it was a good one, well… It was always a good reason to party after a successful performance.

The concert they had tonight was… okay. Not bad, not good. Okay, good, but not excellent. Not really the 'something to remember' type of concert, but definitely a good one. Good like any other they have ever had before.

They had a few more performances to make in the area, so it wasn't as if it was their last one for a while.

They decided to go somewhere quiet this time. They all seemed to need a peaceful night today. And that's exactly what they were having: there was some relaxing jazz music playing at the background; the place was nearly empty, with only a few more tables taken; The lights were dim and the place was warm and comforting; Niall was just telling them a funny story about a restaurant he went to when he was younger (all his jokes were somehow connected to food eventually); five beers were placed at the round table (Zayn kept trying to see his reflection on the glass, making sure his hair was in place), and there were some hot French-fries at the centre of the table (which Niall kept taking as he was speaking); The paparazzi were yet to find out they were here. 

The pub had been a good decision. Louis smiled and leaned back at his chair, half-listening to Niall's story, half thinking about nothing. He caught Niall's punch-line as it hit, and laughed along with the others. He took a sip of his beer and put it down silently.

Now Liam was saying something. Probably telling them another one of his wanna-be-funny jokes, which he sincerely thought were not less than top-class-funny and hilarious. They were all listening to him, knowing that eventually the joke wouldn't be funny at all, and also preparing to lecture to Liam about it after he finishes. As Louis glanced at Harry he could see he was holding a smile. Oh, that boy must've found that joke very amusing.

Louis was trying to pay attention to what was going around the table, but every time he tried to concentrate, he felt his mind pushing away into some kind of blank thoughts. He wasn't thinking about anything, like he couldn't think even if he wanted to.

Harry probably felt him staring at him (even though Louis hadn't realized he was. His eyes simply sat where Harry's face was), and turned to look at him. His hidden smile was still there, but when he saw Louis, his eyes seemed a bit concerned. He put his hand on Louis's thighs and squeezed, as if questioning if everything was alright. Louis smiled at him and leaned forward. Harry also leaned to hear what he wanted to say, and his hand moved from resting on Louis's thighs to holding his arm gently.

"I'm going to get some air, okay?" Louis mumbled in his ear. When he leaned backwards, Harry made the tiniest squeeze with his hand, and Louis could see that now he was frowning. Oh bugger, he thought. He didn't mean to make Harry upset or worried.

The curly-hair boy was looking at him with those questioning eyes again. He was hesitating, not sure if he should let Louis go. Louis smiled gently at him, trying to reassure him that he was fine, and was going to be back in a second. Harry left Louis's arm and nodded, sending him a brief smile back, but still looking concerned. Louis fumbled with his eyes playfully and grinned at him, as if mocking Harry for his concern. It seemed to help, as Harry's creased forehead loosened a bit.

As Louis got up and left, Liam stopped talking, and the table went quiet for a moment.

"Is Louie alright?" Niall asked Harry quietly.

"Yeah, he said he was just going to get some air." Harry told him absently. He turned around to look at Louis's back, still concerned, and followed him until he was out of sight.

Outside, Louis was leaning against the rail, a few meters away from the entrance of the pub. It was completely forsaken. He looked up at the sign of the pub, and then down at the rode, smiling absently. The pub was called The Nufshwell. God help these people, he most certainly did not see the logic behind that name.

Glazing at the rode, he blinked a few times, sucked on two of his fingers, took it out of his mouth and then swished it against his eye contacts gently to clean and move it a bit in his eyes, to refresh it after being still for so long.

Afterward he put his hands on the rail, leaning on it, and sighed deeply. He raised his head and stared numbly at one of the lampposts in front of him. He was feeling off for some reason.

He stood there for a few minutes, maybe even less. Just breathing, and thinking about nothing in particular. He needed those few seconds of no-worries, of no need to play a role. To have a few minutes without worrying that he didn't say something when he should have, or laughed when everyone else did. When he was with his friends or in public at all, he had to participate, to be a part of it, because by not being a part of the conversation, he became the conversation and centre of attention.

Just a few more seconds for himself, before he'll have to go back. Before one of the guys would come out to look for him. He was just about to turn around when his face was that close to someone's chest. He jumped back at the rail, startled.

A tall man was standing in front of him, with dark skin and black eyes. He was wearing a faded-red shirt that was torn at the sleeves. You could see his muscles that way.

He had a funny look in his eyes. "Hello there, pretty face." He grinned. His voice was low, and his smile made Louis shiver.

Louis stumbled backwards, but there was nowhere to stumble upon. He was glued to the rail. "Excuse me," he said with a shaky voice and went past him quickly.

The man grabbed him firmly by the arm. "Where do you think you're going, pretty face?" he asked him with a wicked grin. Louis stumbled again at his feet. "Let me go please." He asked, starting to panic.

"Where's the rush to?" someone said giddily, and that was when Louis noticed there was someone behind that tall man. Stupidly enough, realizing already that he was in trouble; Louis was even more terrified when he saw three more men behind the dark one, as if making those three  one would have made things better.

He felt his body hitting up with anxiety and adrenalin and ripped his arm from the man's grasp.  "Let me go!" he hissed at him with more confidence and started moving back when someone from behind grabbed him in the shoulders. He turned around quickly and his eyes widened. Another one.

He was suddenly feeling very helpless, his chest heavy. Something unpleasant settled down in his stomach. "Please…" he pleaded, feeling claustrophobic as they all took another step toward him. He put his hands on one of the man's chest, trying to push him back.

"Let's have some fun, uh?" the dark guy who approached him first said silkily, and took another step forward. 

--- 

That's it for the first chapter! Did you like it? You didn't? If you did and even if you didn't - let me know. What did you like most? What do you think is going to happen to Louis? I tend to leave chapter at some kind of a hangcliff. Sorry 'bout that! 

Please comment, like, fav, whatever it is you do on Wattpad (I feel like I'm one of these well-known people from YouTube). Everything is welcomed with open arms! 

Thank you for reading! Love you! xox