Silenced- A Larry Stylinson Story

Chapter 6- POV Harry: An Emotional Rollercoaster

The next morning, Mom takes me and Gemma to the hospital to see Dad. A nurse leads us to his room in the ICU and lets us have a few minutes with him, even though he can't talk since he has a tube down his throat. He looks horrible. 

According to the doctor, he has a few broken ribs that explain the dark purple bruises on his stomach, a punctured lung caused by his broken ribs, a broken hand (probably from punching someone) a broken nose, and a severe concussion. He also has various severities of bruises covering most of his body. 

My phone buzzes and I look down at it. It's a text from Louis. 

How are you? How is your Dad?

I reply with, He will be fine. The three dots pop up to let me know he is typing, and my phone buzzes again.

And how are you? I smirk. He's worried about me.

I type, I'm okay. Tired, but okay. See you after school.

See you later.

I arrive at school, late, from visiting my Dad, right before lunch starts. I eat lunch with Sophia and we chat about our days. I haven't told her about my Dad yet; I made up a stupid excuse that I was at the dentist. 

For some reason, I like it to be me and Louis's secret. When he came over yesterday, he made me feel so accepted. I constantly feel like a burden on others, since everybody treats me like one, but he made me feel like I actually matter, which is a new thing for me: mattering.

"Harry? Harry?" I am brought back to reality by Sophia calling my name. "What's wrong with you? Why do you keep zoning out?"

"Oh, sorry. It's nothing."

"How was your dentist's appointment?"

"It was fine."

"Okay." We sit in silence for a minute and then chat about the algebra homework for the remainder of lunch.

"Bye, Harry." Sophia smiles at me. I smile back, but it's not genuine. We don't have the same spark we used to. 

I used to get butterflies every time I saw her. That hasn't happened in months, though, which saddens me. I can't help it. I can't force butterflies, as much as I might want to. She plants a quick peck of a kiss on my lips and hurries to her next class. I wipe off my lips and sigh. 

Something's not right there.

The rest of the school day drags by. I have a ton of makeup work to do, but I don't tell my mom about that or she wouldn't have let me go to Louis's house after school: something I have been looking forward to all day.

Finally, the last bell rings and I look for Louis's truck in the parking lot. It stands out, because not many other high school students have trucks like his. He is already in it when I get there, so I hop in on the passenger side.

"Hey, Lou." I greet him.

"Hi, Curly." He responds, with a mischievous grin. As I get to know him more, I have seen a whole different side of him. At first, he was really shy and quiet but he has slowly begun to open up to me and show his rambunctious and loud side. "Let's go?"

"Sure." We get to his house, which is only a three minute drive, and I immediately notice how it's much more shabby than mine. The white paint on the one-story ranch is peeling and the stairs have been completely worn of their stain as a result of being used so frequently. The grass looks like it hasn't been cut in weeks and the shed to the right of the house is almost entirely toppled over.

"I know it looks a little rough, but my mom- she's a single mom- works three jobs to cover the rent and groceries for me and my sisters. It doesn't leave much money for luxuries." 

I nod, and debate whether or not to ask about his Dad. I decide not to; it might be rude. 

"I can tell you're wondering about my father." Louis gives me a side eye and smirks. "It's okay. He left when the twins were born. Haven't heard from him since. I don't want to. He's a jerk." He shrugs. I feel horrible.

"Oh. I'm so sorry. I have been I have been talking about myself and complaining about my Dad but I didn't even realize-"

He cuts me off, "Don't worry about it. Harry, your feelings are perfectly valid. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I came to terms with the fact that he is not going to be in my sisters' lives a long time ago. Come on. Let's go inside. Are you hungry? We don't have much. Want an apple?" I shake my head. I'm not really hungry. "Girls? Are you home?" He calls. Four girls pop out from a bedroom near the kitchen.

"Hi, Louis!" The littlest two say, simultaneously.

"Hey, Phoebe! Hi Daisy! Girls, this is Harry. He's my friend from school." I blush from being called his friend. I have officially made a friend from school. He introduces me individually to each of his sisters: Phoebe and Daisy (the twins), Fizzy, and Lottie. 

They disperse and we head to his room, which is at the end of the hallway. It consists of an unmade bed and a small dresser on the opposite side of the room. It's pretty small, but I suppose that's all you really need in a room. We sit on his bed.

"Hey, I have a bunch of algebra work to catch up on; are you any good at algebra?" I ask.

"Very." He brags playfully and offers to help me. I grin in return and stick out my tongue.

"Well good, cause I'm not!" We laugh and I take out the work.

After about an hour and a half suffering through grueling math work, he picks up the math book, closes it, and throws it across the room when I try to reach for it.

"Hey! What was that for?" I inquire with a smile, retrieve it, and open it back up.

"We have been working for so long! Let's take a break!" He insists.

He takes the book from my hands and tries to keep it above my head, which doesn't work, since I am taller than him. 

We keep stealing it back and forth from each other and somehow end up in a pile on the floor with the book across the room. 

I roll over so I am laying next to him on the floor. He turns his head to look at me with his temple pressed against the floor and I do the same. 

I stare into Louis's eyes. I have never noticed how beautiful he is. That's not a word most people might think of when they look at him, but it fits wonderfully.

His jaw is chiseled so perfectly, and his sea green eyes stare curiously right back into mine. His shaggy straight hair is brushed to the side, sticking out under the light gray beanie he wears so often. 

He is smiling at me. His smile is a little crooked, which makes it that much cuter and more contagious when he grins. I nervously smile back. My heart begins to race and I feel my hands getting moist with perspiration. My stomach churns, but not necessarily in a bad way. 

Why do I feel like this? What's happening? 

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