World Tour
Pain
***Harry Styles*** Saturday, April 21st, 2012 – Somewhere Above New Zealand
“That was almost two weeks ago, and I didn’t even notice? This is all my fault,” I said, after Louis confessed to having cut after his mom used him for money.
“No, Curly, it’s not,” Louis promised me.
“No?” I asked. “Where’d you get the idea from, Lou?”
“Harry, you’re not the only person I’ve ever heard of who cuts. I knew about it even before I knew you.”
“Would you have done it if I hadn’t introduced it into your life?” I tried again. The look on his face answered my question, and I knew he didn’t want to answer it out loud. But he couldn’t lie, so he just looked away and shook his head ever so slightly. I was beginning to think I was the worst thing that had ever happened to Louis. “Lou,” I sighed, and then I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him, and we both lost our balance and fell back against the couch.
“I’m okay, Kid,” he whispered. We just lay there, holding each other, both of us deep in thought. My breathing was short and unsteady, and he must have noticed, because after awhile he began singing to me. He was singing our song – Faithfully by Journey. His voice was so calming, so peaceful, and we laid like that until the plane landed.
We checked into a hotel where we had about six hours to sleep before we had to be up and ready for rehearsal, so I went into Louis’s hotel room, tired. We were both asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillow, but I woke up two hours later to immense pain in my ankle. I gasped, wanting to yell at how badly it hurt, but I didn’t want to wake Louis. Too late – he heard me gasp. His eyes flew open.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“My ankle,” I grimaced.
“When’s the last time you took your pain meds?” he asked.
“Before we got on the plane,” I said.
“Okay, I’ll go get them, where’s your room key?” he stood up. I pointed to the nightstand where my room key was, and told him the pain pills were in my duffel bag in the bathroom. He disappeared and came back after a minute – a very long, painful minute. He brought me a glass of water and handed me one of the pills. I swallowed it, waiting impatiently for it to begin working. Louis just sat up, my head against his chest, as he played with my hair to soothe me and give me something to focus on other than the shooting pain in my ankle. After a very long few minutes, I could finally feel the pain start to subside.
“Sorry I woke you up,” I told Louis.
“Don’t be,” he kissed the top of my head, and somehow we fell back asleep.
“That was almost two weeks ago, and I didn’t even notice? This is all my fault,” I said, after Louis confessed to having cut after his mom used him for money.
“No, Curly, it’s not,” Louis promised me.
“No?” I asked. “Where’d you get the idea from, Lou?”
“Harry, you’re not the only person I’ve ever heard of who cuts. I knew about it even before I knew you.”
“Would you have done it if I hadn’t introduced it into your life?” I tried again. The look on his face answered my question, and I knew he didn’t want to answer it out loud. But he couldn’t lie, so he just looked away and shook his head ever so slightly. I was beginning to think I was the worst thing that had ever happened to Louis. “Lou,” I sighed, and then I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him, and we both lost our balance and fell back against the couch.
“I’m okay, Kid,” he whispered. We just lay there, holding each other, both of us deep in thought. My breathing was short and unsteady, and he must have noticed, because after awhile he began singing to me. He was singing our song – Faithfully by Journey. His voice was so calming, so peaceful, and we laid like that until the plane landed.
We checked into a hotel where we had about six hours to sleep before we had to be up and ready for rehearsal, so I went into Louis’s hotel room, tired. We were both asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillow, but I woke up two hours later to immense pain in my ankle. I gasped, wanting to yell at how badly it hurt, but I didn’t want to wake Louis. Too late – he heard me gasp. His eyes flew open.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“My ankle,” I grimaced.
“When’s the last time you took your pain meds?” he asked.
“Before we got on the plane,” I said.
“Okay, I’ll go get them, where’s your room key?” he stood up. I pointed to the nightstand where my room key was, and told him the pain pills were in my duffel bag in the bathroom. He disappeared and came back after a minute – a very long, painful minute. He brought me a glass of water and handed me one of the pills. I swallowed it, waiting impatiently for it to begin working. Louis just sat up, my head against his chest, as he played with my hair to soothe me and give me something to focus on other than the shooting pain in my ankle. After a very long few minutes, I could finally feel the pain start to subside.
“Sorry I woke you up,” I told Louis.
“Don’t be,” he kissed the top of my head, and somehow we fell back asleep.
@Sinthiaa
No, it's not hers, it's mine, and I can't get in touch with her or the site admins to get it taken down, grrr haha. Thank you for saying something though :-) *MUAH*
5/6/14