Burn [Larry Stylinson AU]

Chapter Two

"Please don't leave me Lou. Don't leave me please. Keep breathing love. Just keep breathing."

Louis wanted to reach out to the beautiful voice and tell them not to cry. A voice that beautiful shouldn't have to cry for someone like him.

"No no no no no! Please don't leave Louis! I can't keep losing you!" The voice sobbed. "Don't die. Don't die. Just . . . don't go." He felt large, soft hands at his face and warm raindrops fall across his forehead.

All he could see was darkness and he felt a gentle hum float about his body. His eyelids were so heavy, but he wanted to look at the face the heartbreaking sobbing was coming from. He wanted to reassure that voice that he was okay, just a bit tired.

Cool, gentle lips pressed against his forehead and his heart gave a weak shutter. He would kiss that person back, but first he wanted to take a quick nap. Ten minutes, and then he would kiss those pair of lips that belonged to the achingly familiar stranger.

"NO! NO! LOUIS! Nonononono. Please, God don't do this. Don't take him away. Please, Father, I'll do anything. Please." A hand brushed through Louis' hair, whispering, "Stay with me Louis. Just stay. Don't go this time. Not again Lou-Lou, you promised. You promised me you'd stay."

Louis wanted to tell the voice that he was going to stay. But he was too tired to speak or think. Louis wasn't going anywhere, and he'd be here when he woke up from his nap. He sighed heavily, letting his chest swell and compress.

"LOUIS? LOUIS!" Cries pierced his ears as the blanket of unconscienceness settled over him. Hands wrapped around his and he felt a wet, salty kisses being pressed onto his lips. "I'm so sorry Lou. I'm so sorry."

Before Louis could tell the soft whispers that he'd be awake soon, he drifted away into the darkest part of his mind. Before the heavy drapes closed him off to the world, he heard from afar the voice promise, "I'll see you soon."

-x-

Sunlight glared down onto his eyelids, causing them to flutter and shrink away from the light streaming through the open window. Louis groaned and flipped over onto his tummy, settling in the warm shelter of his duvets.

Wait, what?

Louis sat up in bed, glancing around the room. He was home. How the fuck did he get home? Shouldn't he be dead, lifeless in a casket of heavy snow? He looked out the window, to see the shy sun peeking out from behind cascading rooftops and pointed arches. The icicles that clung to the gutters and rooftop hinges were dripping water onto the ground below them. The snow had begun disparsing a little, giving pedestrians enough reason to run to the supermarket or shops before the next freeze arrived.

Louis heard a soft snore, and turned his head to the fat ginger cat curled up ontop one of his pillows. He gave a light throaty laugh, and looked onto the floor. Beside the door was a pile of his wet clothes, stained with blood and vomit. His boots were thrown not that far from the articles of clothing, soaking from the melting snow. His keys and phone had been placed on his nightstand, and there was a heavy duvet on his bed that he hadn't placed the night before.

Suddenly, last night's events slammed into Louis like a hurricane. Andy and his men, the beatings that had been inflicted on his body, and the angel. He couldn't forget the angel. How could he? It was the most beautiful and saddest sight his eyes had ever fell upon. You don't just witness you're own proximity to something that deathly beautiful and just forget about it.

Remembering the bruises and blood from the night before, Louis lifted the large thermal sweater from his torso and looked down. No bruises. No scratches. No nothing, but the heated expanse of Louis' skin. He hesitantly prodded his ribs, but no pain came. He took a deep breath, and didn't feel the compression like he had felt the night before. Louis was okay.