Outlander -|L.S.|-

5

Louis POV

It was around 3 am when I felt Harry tipping. His head used to be on my shoulder, his soft unruly curly hair falling on my shoulder, but now he's falling off the trotting horse. His large body taking the warmth away from mine slowly.

"Wait!" I yell and grip his shirt. His eyes are closed but mouth still closed. "Stop! He's going over!"

He finally falls on his back and I jump off the horse as quick as possible.

People come around us and I tell them to lift him up. They bring him to a near by tree and prop him up. His eyes are closed and his mouth slightly open. He has a lot more blood than before on his shoulder.

I pull back his sleeve and see a gun shot wound.

"God dammit! Idiot could have told me he was shot!" I say. It has an exit wound. "It's a clean shot, when all the way through,"

"I need to disinfect it!" I say to myself but the man I've come to know as Zayn says, "disinfect?"

"Yes I need to clean it from dirt and germs," I say.

"Germs?" Another says in confusing.

"Yes! I need some Mathiolate!" I say and they look at each other like I'm speaking Spanish. They blink and look bewildered at me

"HyCortizone?" I ask and they shake their heads. I start thinking of my first Theory as if I was in the 18th century.

My knees are soaked and hands muddy as I try to clean them so I don't infect his swollen shoulder more.

"Alcohol?" I ask and they all smile and nod with oohs and realization. 

One hands me a flask and before pouring it on Harrys wound I take a swig. I pour it on Harrys wound and Harrys eye snap open in one second. Pupils wide with pain and surprise.

"Wha-" he says and sees me he stops talking. He stares at my face and studies my features. His green eyes searching my face.

"Welcome back!" I say and scowl at him. I start to rip the end of my white tags and my dress starts to get too short in the front. "You could've told me you've been shot!"

"It dinna hurt at the time!" He says and I shake my head.

"You could have died- sit up!" I command and he sits up with my help of pulling him. I hold him up and start to examine the wound.

"It has an exit wound so I think your fine." I say and I bite my lip concentrating on what to do next.

I rip some part of my dress off and when I struggle I curse: "Oh come on you god darn bloody bastard!"

"I've never heard someone use such language." Someone mutters to the person next to them.

"Well now you have!" I say and pull I the small fabric tight around Harrys back so u can I can tie it so it burns slightly. He groans and I hear peoples foot steps behind me and people getting on horses.

"If you so much as move while I am tying this I will bloody throttle you!" U threat and pull the not as tight as possible.

"When something like this happens then you need to tell me!" I say and he nods like he's scared.

"It dinna hurt at the time! I thought I was alright!" He says.

"Does it hurt?" I ask and he nods.

"Aye..." He whispers and I'm slowly falling in love with his accent. It's deep and slow. His Scottish accent dominant and rough compared to mine. Mine English one is squeaky and soft.