5 Lost Directions (One Direction)

Chapter 20

Hey guys!!!! it's been sooooo long!  i'm so sorry i've jsut been really busy with my other story and school and stuff :(  but to make up for it i made a nice long chapter for u guys!  i won't keep u waiting any longer, read on my readers who read!

Charlotte’s POV

 

            Jesus Harry is heavy.  Granted I’m just a fifteen-year-old girl trying to haul him into my living room, but still.  I try and wrap my arms underneath his arms to get a better grip on him while Niall continues to haul Harry’s legs weakly.  His eyes dart all over the house scanning the area (probably making sure I’m not another psycho) and lingering as we pass the kitchen.  I chuckle a bit thinking “classic Horan” but suddenly I remember that he probably hasn’t eaten in a while, and not just by his standards.  I still have no idea what he’s been through this past week or so.

            “Niall, how about you go and grab whatever you want from the kitchen.  I’ll bring Harry into the living room and get the first-aid kit,” I say gesturing with my head towards the kitchen.  He snaps his expression back to face me sheepishly as if he wasn’t just drooling.

            “Oh uh… are you sure?  I can help carry Harry for you…” he states unsurely still trying to grip around Harry’s legs.  I can see though, that he’s pretty much dying for food.  His lips look dry and cracked with some blood stains around them while his forehead gash has patches of dried blood all around it and one line going down his hairline and cheek.  Various patches of caked dirt and dust cover his torn and tattered clothing, some large bruises being revealed through the rips.  One long cut on his upper thigh shows through a large tear in his muddy jeans.  His dirty hair is all disheveled in different directions as his once vibrant blue eyes linger a gray color with large bags underneath them.  To be honest, he looks like a lost puppy I found on the side of the road, scared, lost, confused, and hurt.  I just want to help him…

            “No Niall.  Please, go grab as much food as you want!  Look at yourself!  The absolute least I can do is offer you a meal!” I chuckle a bit making him grin a smidge.

            “T-thank you… Charlotte was it?”

            “Yeah, and no problem.  Here, I can carry Harry over to the couch okay?” he nods slightly, tentatively lowering his friends legs onto the ground.  He whips his stare back up to me immediately as a reflex making me flinch, and then back down to Harry.  Aw… I guess he’s scared a bit of leaving me alone with him.

            “Niall, I promise it’ll be okay.  I won’t hurt him, alright?” I nod reassuringly.  He nods back a bit but still stands his ground.

            “I just have to cut off his ropes, clean his cuts, and wait for him to wake up.  I’ll tell you right away when he does.  And when you’re done eating I guess I can clean your cuts too…” I trail off.  I feel so awkward right now.  I mean, what do you say in a situation like this?  An international pop star is standing in my living room after being kidnapped for a week and another one is unconscious in my arms.

            “Okay, thank you again,” he smiles a bit more turning on his heels to go to the kitchen.  I continue hauling Mr. Styles over to the red sofa behind the large coffee table in the living room and lift him onto the plush cushions.  I rearrange him so he’s comfortably lying on his back, his mop of curls messy and dirt stained matching his face.  His body looks a bit like he’s been mauled by a cougar, for Pete’s sake.  A long rip runs up his shirt showing a long cut line going up his abdomen, not appearing to be clean at all.  Well, now I know where to start.