Shut In (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 22

A/N: this is the last chapter before the epilogue. ;(

IF YOU SKIPPED LAST CHAPTER: Louis has been working on his stutter and confidence levels to the point where he can make decisions easily and not stutter under casual circumstances. He only stutters now when he's under extreme stress.

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Colour: Blue Green (Spiritual healing. Depression and sadness.)
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*Third Person Limited*

Louis awakes to the smell of cinnamon and bacon. The sound of pots and pans clanking as well as the sizzle of meat filling the house. Louis smiles at Harry's kindness, snuggling further into the feather pillow.

After a few moments, he yawns and stretches his body out before trying to sit up. Louis's face scrunches in discomfort, sending him backwards on the bed. It's never been this bad before.

Louis whines and hits the bed with his fists, feet rubbing rapidly against the sheets. He really wants to get up and see Harry, but he can't even sit up.

Louis turns his head to glare at the floor. He's going to do it because he is strong. He is not a child. Louis swivels around carefully then places two feet on the ground, his body still laying down.

"Okay. You can do it." Louis whispers to himself.

He winces as he pushes himself up, but he does it and finds himself balancing on his own two feet. But all good things must end. Louis's legs turn to jelly, wobbling and buckling beneath the weight. Within a second, Louis is smacked against the hardwood of Harry's room.

At first, Louis is completely fine. He huffs, just laying there. But then he feels the impact of the fall, and starts blubbering like a baby.

Harry's ears perk up, hearing faint wailing noises. He stops stirring the pot, turning off the burner and setting it to the side. Harry pulls off his apron as he treds towards the bedroom.

"Louis?" Harry asks softly, pushing the door open. "Is everything okay love?"

The sobs grow louder and more childlike as Harry enters the room.

"Harry." Lou whines, making fists with his hands.

Harry glances down at the crumpled figure.

"Oh baby, what happened?" He asks in concern, crouching down to Louis's level.

"Owie." Louis cries, a pout firm on his face.

"What hurts my prince?" Harry asks in his voice reserved for children. "Did you hit your head?"

Louis shakes his head. "Chest. Back. Bum. Legs."

"Awe baby I'm so sorry." Harry coos, feeling a bit guilty. "Did I go too hard last night?"

"No." Louis giggles, still laying on his stomach. "It was perfect."

Harry smiles. "Okay love. Let's get you back in bed."

Louis nods, wiping his eyes and flipping over slowly.

Harry carefully lifts Louis into his arms, kissing his forehead as he places him back under the covers. "I'll be back in a minute Boo."

***

Marcus shields his eyes as he wakes up, head pounding from last night. He's been a mess ever since Louis left: getting drunk every other night and partying, but last night he did the unthinkable. Marcus went home with a man and slept with him like some kind of needy slut.

Marc untangles himself from the man's naked body and slips on his clothes that lay beside the bed. He grabs his wallet and phone off of the bedside table, and despite himself, sneaks a last glance at the man laying down.

Marcus stumbles back in shock, mortified as he recognizes the man. It's Judas: the creep at work who's been trying to get in his pants for years, not to forget everyone else's as well. He is the last person you'd want to get involved with, yet here they are.

Marcus screams silently, clutching his stomach in fear that he might vomit, whether it be from his hangover or from the knowledge of who he slept with he's unsure.

The man stirs, stretching his arms. Marcus's eyes widen and he takes off running towards the door, not even caring if he leaves anything behind. He slams the door behind himself, sprinting down the street upon realizing his car isn't there.

When he's a safe distance from the house, Marcus slows. Silent tears pour down his face as he breathes heavily, chest tightening as he goes into a panic attack.

"What've I done?" Marcus wheezes over and over again, yanking at his hair.

All of a sudden he falls to his knees and grasps the material covering his chest. "I can't breathe, I can't breathe, oh my god. I'm going to hell. I'm dying. This is bad. Air. I need air."

Marcus places a hand on the concrete sidewalk in support, throat tightening rapidly. He grabs his phone and dials the second number on his 'Favorites' list.

The moment the call connects, Marcus hisses, "I can't breathe," in a high voice.

"Marcus. Where are you? This isn't funny." Ed says harshly, the sound of a chair scraping against the floor heard over the phone.

"I." Marcus breathes heavily. "Dunno."

"Seriously. Where are you?" Edward shouts, his door slamming behind himself.

"Near Saint Margaritas." Marcus forces out, the edges of his vision blurring.

"I'm on my way." Ed says. "Don't hang up."

"Kay."

"Take deep breaths and try to calm down please. You can't die. You're too young." Ed slams on his breaks, car screeching against the pavement.

"Can't." Marc breathes out before he sees stars and keels over onto the ground.

His head smacks the floor, knocking him out cold as he lays curled in a tight ball on the sidewalk in a neighborhood far from his own.

***
A/N: oopsies. Ily.

Until Next Time,

~~~~~~BooBear🐻