You And I (Completed)

Chapter Thirty Seven

Hihihi! New update :)

Sorry for not posting in like a month, I've been SO stressed with school. But I'm gonna try to write a lot this weekend so I can update more frequently for you guys.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot and am not affiliated with one direction, Zayn (aka the future father of my children), their friends, family, management, etc. I'm not making any profit-I'm juat a broke 16 year old who loves fanfics.

---

(10 months later)

As the taxi pulled up to Louis' apartment complex, Harry smiled, sighing. He handed the driver a $20 and made his way out. "Thanks, and keep the change," he said as he grabbed his suitcase and left.

He began to walk, and slowly winced at the pain as he limped his way into the building. It'd been 3 months since he'd gotten shot in the leg, but it still hurt almost as much as it did when it happened.

As the story goes, Harry was fighting in Syria, risking his life for others-he loved the thrill, and even more, he loved the fact that he was doing something important and heroic. He was making a difference, and even though he wasn't there long, he still felt like a hero.

But the excitement and rush came to a halt all too soon when Harry was shot in the leg twice. He was dodging a gunshot from an enemy that was directed towards one of his closest friends in his division. Without thinking, he jumped in front of Michael, and ended up catching two bullets in his leg.

At first it hurt more than anything he'd ever felt-physically, any way. He couldn't breathe. He looked down and all he saw was blood. After that, he blacked out.

For 3 months now, after being discharged from the military (something he was still upset about), he'd been going to various doctors-he'd had two different surgeries, and there was still a standing possibility that he'd have to be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life if he didn't heal.

But Harry refused to let that happen. He didn't want to give up because one unfortunate thing happened to him. So each day, he continued to keep fighting, and he was slowly getting better.

And now? He was back in England with an agenda.

He was coming back to get what was his.

---

"Hello, excuse me, can you tell me which flat Louis Tomlinson lives in? I'm an..old friend of his," he asked the woman at the front desk.

"Oh, Louis is in 3A. He hasn't been home in a few days, though," someone replied from behind him.

He raised an eyebrow. That was strange. Louis was a natural homebody. Harry turned around. "I'm sorry..?"

"Yea, uh, the last time I saw him, he was on his way out, looking all fancy and dressed up. I figured he'd had a hot date-probably with that rich guy he's been seeing. I dunno. I've got an off feeling about him, but what do I know-"

"God, Courtney, will you can it?" The woman at the front desk huffed. "What Louis does is his own business-as long as he's paying his rent every month, I couldn't care less. As for you, Little Miss Chatterbox, you're behind. Again!"

Harry bit his lip, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as Courtney and the woman (who he assumed was the building manager) started arguing.

He shook his head, limping his way to the elevator so he could go to the third floor.

He hoped that what Courtney said wasn't true; hopefully she was just as crazy as she sounded and that she got his Louis confused with someone else.