Iridium (One Direction, AU, Niam)

Chapter Thirteen - The Truth That Could End His Loneliness?

*Before you read, the video on the side is a trailer for the story, and include things that have yet to be mentioned. This is only a warning if you do decide to watch it.*

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Niall ended up following Louis through many twists and turns and alleys that he was beginning to think this entire thing was a trick.

But finally they were making their way up the stairs of a fairly worn down looking flat complex, made of only two levels and a set of stairs which looked ready to collapse even under the mere weight of a small house cat, not to mention three fully grown boys.

Yet somehow the three made it up, and with the click of a lock and a harsh shove to the door, they had made it inside flat 204. 

The inside of the flat was more or less disgusting. Clothes strewn about everywhere, dishes piled into the kitchen sink, dining room table covered in papers. The whole apartment was practically one huge room, plus two doors, which he assumed led to a bedroom and a bathroom. He had no doubts in his mind that they would match the dirtiness of the rest of the flat.

Niall didn't mind one bit though, it was just like home. 

He paused with a shudder wracking through his body. Home. That was the very last thing he wanted running through his mind at the moment. His home was the very opposite of what the word intended, so no, Niall wouldn't think of that place.

Louis gestured to a worn down blue couch to Niall, who carried the now fast asleep Harry over and gently floated him down onto the tattered cushions, as Louis disappeared into the door which he assumes leads to the washroom, as not a second later there was the small sound of water running from the faucet.

Louis returned shortly, a damp, black face cloth in his hand and a few rolls of medical bandage. He knelt down beside Harry and proceeded to carefully treat the long scratches across the curly haired boy's face.

Niall felt mildly intrusive standing off to the side lines watching Louis concentrate solely on the task at hand.

Louis' light voice suddenly filled up the silence. "Might as well find a place to get comfortable, you'll be here awhile."

Niall nodded, though Louis proceeded to stop paying attention to Niall and therefor didn't see the gesture. He looked around and his eyes finally settled on a lone recliner chair, dull maroon in colour, with some pale yellow cushioning peaking out from the bottom where it was teared slightly.

He made his way over and gently, carefully lowered himself to sit and decided to not pay mind to Louis as he worked his way down Harry's body, cleaning and covering scratch after scratch. The tally for scratches ended up with the three across his face, what seemed to be a fairly deep gashes ranging from the bottom of his ribs, across his belly button and ending right before the waistband of his trousers. There were un-countable slices on the outer side of his right thigh and finally ending with a fairly broken ankle on the left side.

Louis had left the wound across Harry's face out in the open, opting to clean it more often rather than bandegeing his entire head, which is what it would of taken. But his entire torso was covered in the white sterile bandage, along with his thigh and his ankle which had been bound even tighter than the rest.

The caramel haired boy sat back on his hunches when he finished fixing up the poor boy.

Louis gathered together the extra bandages and the soiled cloth and placed the bandages onto the  tiled counter top, whilst he disposed of the face cloth into the waste basket.

He walked back into the, what could be deemed as, living area and lowered himself onto the floor in front of the couch Harry was laid on.

Niall turned his attention to the feathered haired boy.