Sixteen.

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I told Niall to go; I’d use a payphone to call a cab if I needed it.

I sat on the bed next to Louis, he looked lifeless… He had his lower lip a little bit swollen and his right cheek was bruised.

It was my fault; I left him when he needed me. He did bad things to me, he hurt me but he tried harder than Harry to make things up.

I felt Louis reach for my hand and entwine his fingers with mine.

“You know, there’s a song that I love…A line in it goes: time is a valuable thing.” He began. “And I’m tired of losing my time.”

I raised an eyebrow; I didn’t understand what he was trying to say.

He slightly shook his head and groaned.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to call a doctor?” I said, startled.

“I’m okay, chill.” He laughed.

I had too many thoughts torturing me.

First, Louis got drunk, got in a bar fight and was hospitalized.

Second, it was because of me.

Third, what was I going to do? I couldn’t leave him, what if he got drunk again? What if he did something worse…?

Fourth, Harry was way too sweet when he was with me in my room, I know we were in good terms and we were trying to be friends but that doesn’t change anything. I shouldn’t have sung Treacherous to him and he shouldn’t have sung that song to me… It was weird.

I looked at Louis and he half smiled at me.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” I said to him.

 “Getting completely drunk and beating some dude’s arse?  I do that on a daily basis, you don’t have to worry.” He laughed. “Hey, it was a joke.” He said when he saw me open my eyes widely.

“Promise me you are not going to do something like that again, I don’t want you to hurt yourself because of me, in fact, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself,”

“I won’t if you stay with me.” he grinned.

What? Was he trying to use the emotional blackmail card with me?

“So are you saying that if I don’t stay with you, you will hurt yourself again?” I asked.  

“I don’t need to hurt myself; if you aren’t with me I’m already hurt.” He answered slightly leaning towards me.

But he let out a light groan again, before he could even sit on the bed properly.

“What’s wrong?” I asked with concern, placing my hand on his shoulder.

“The bastard broke my ribs.”  He squeezed his eyes shut and rest his head against the pillow.

I gasped, “Oh my God, Lou. That must have hurt…”

“I don’t really remember.” He let out a laugh. “Hey.”

“What?”

He smiled widely. “You called me Lou.”

I rolled my eyes and playfully hit him on his shoulder. All of a sudden he started screaming in pain and I panicked.

“Louis! Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-“I was cut off by his weak laughter.

I crossed my arms on my chest and looked away from him.

“I was just kidding, love.” He said holding an arm out, reaching for my cheek with his hand but I took a step back.

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