Outliers [L.S]

7

Louis' POV:

When I awoke, the pain I felt was unbelievable. I felt like I couldn't move. I felt as if I was on fire. Even when I swallowed to wet my dry throat it burned. Every part of me was raw. All I wanted to do is to go back to sleep.

I could feel the cold concrete beneath me, and it was the only good thing I had right now. It felt amazing against my burning hot skin. I wish I could just feel it everywhere.

I've yet to open my eyes. I feared, even though how ridiculous it was, that it would also cause me pain. My eyelids felt as if they were two heavy to lift. Like they were ten pounds each.

The sound of shuffling breaks the pounding silence around me. From what I could tell it sounded like someone was walking towards me, and for a second I thought I was back in the room with Mathew.

The person grabs me by my upper arm and lifts me up. The pain of the movement is strong. I feel it in many places on my body as it starts to throb from it. I try to breathe in some oxygen but It seems like I can never even catch my breath in the first place, so it's useless.

The person throws me over their shoulder, causing the little air I do have, to leave my body with a gasp. I wish I could ask this person to stop throwing me around like a doll, or even ask them where they are taking me. But what I wanted most is to be back on the cold concrete.

Each step they took my body shook, sending more pain throughout my body. I wish I could tell them to stop. I felt so useless not being able to move, speak, or even see. If only I could at least open my eyes.

Suddenly they place me onto something soft, and cover me in blankets. The extra heat is unbearable and I wish I could rip these blankets off of me. My skin has already turned sticky from the amount of sweat I've produced in such a short time. I begin to wonder if I have a fever.

My eyes clenched shut, from the annoyance of this heat. I want to be able to move, just a little to move the blankets but it's impossible. No matter how hard I try to move. I'm beginning to fear I'm paralyzed, even how ridiculous that is.

"Are you comfortable," a voice I've gotten familiar with asks in a mutter.

It's Harry. Harry the one that has set a punishment of torture on me has placed me into a bed, and covered me in blankets. Is asking me if I'm comfortable. I can't help myself from thinking how dare he.

I've never wished I could talk so much in my life. I want to cuss him out. I want to kill him, and I have never wanted to kill anyone before. I wanted him dead for revenge. I wanted him dead so I could go home to my own bed. To be with Niall.

I do my best to gather my strength within my body, to open my eyes. I'm immediately blinded by the light. I feel as my body twitches, wanting to move for it can cover my eyes from the light. It doesn't though. It stays put right in these sweaty covers.

My eyes eventually adjust, and a view of Harry comes into view. He stares down at me with a blank face. He appears to be waiting for the reply I can't give him.

I glance to the left of him, spotting a table with a water glass on it, and I feel a deep thirst inside me awaken. I would kill for that water.

He must have seen me look at the glass because he's quickly grabbing it and handing it to me. Only I'm not able to reach up and grab it. I will try though. I try with all the strength my body has right now, but I get no further than an inch from the bed before my arm collapses back down beside me.

Harry acknowledges that quickly and brings the glass to my lips. I open my mouth slightly and the water flows in. Some of the water runs down my chin but I could care less. I have water.