<Coach Styles>

Forty Five-

Neely's POV:
"Because just as much as he's healing you, you're healing him too." Her words echoed in my head and I looked down at him.

"I saw the way he looks at you," she chuckled, "like you're the eighth wonder of the world." I kept my face down, trying to hide my blush.

"Has he told you about how he got the scar on his back?"

"I didn't know he even had a scar on his back," I shrugged. Did he really have a scar? Thinking back to all the times I had seen him shirtless, I was too drunk, turned on, or embarrassed to pay attention.

"Ask him about it," she mused, standing up. "There's hot tea in the kitchen if you'd like some. If you need any help lugging him up the stairs, just let me know."

"Thank you," I chuckled as she walked toward the door. Sitting in the silence of the library, I looked around at all of the books, feeling oddly calm and at home. Where I used to live, in South Carolina, I would spend hours upon hours at the library in my Aunt's house. The characters lept off the page at me, my only true friends. By the time I was fourteen, I had read over half of the 12,462 books she had in her possession. I could've told you how many home runs Babe Ruth had his first season, and all about the Tylenol Killings. Her and my uncle had accumulated a myriad that only fueled my love for reading and writing as a young child.

Slowly getting up, placing Harry's head softly on the cushion, I placed a blanket over him and walked back toward the kitchen.

"Would you like some tea?" Anne smiled.

"Please," I nodded. Watching as she poured the steaming liquid into a mug, I took it from her with a wide smile. "Thank you."

"No problem, duckie." There was a small silence between us as I took a sip and she took another breath to speak.

"Harry told me that your parents had passed away."

"Yes ma'am, about seven months ago now."

"I'm so sorry. How are you even still walking around?"

"I ask myself that question everyday."

"What were your mum and dad like?"

"They were both so awesome," I gushed. "My mom was British, my dad Italian, so I had a very interesting childhood."

"What part of England was your mum from?"

"Liverpool."

"I really like it there. Have you ever been?"

"No, but she used to tell me stories."

"It's really fun. What part of Italy was your dad from?"

"Well, he was born in Tuscany, but his parents were on vacation from America when he was born."

"That's really cool. I see why you're so tall just like our precious Harry." We both chuckled, and I took another sip of my tea.

"They were awesome together. The way my mom said his name always gave me the chills, just because her accent and how articulate she was."

"I know they'd be proud of you if they were still here," she smiled, rubbing my arm. They probably wouldn't knowing Harry and I are together.

"I'd like to hope they would be. I've done some things I'm not proud of, but god kept me around for a reason."

"We've all been there," she shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"When I was born, I almost died," I chuckled.

"What happened?"

"Well, my mom was a nurse, and she once had a patient that tried to kill himself in his car in his garage like, with the exhaust and everything. She had to dialyze him and basically helped save his life. When I was born, I was 25 inches long, and nothing but muscle. My metabolism was so fast, my blood sugar dropped and I wouldn't respond," I always got chills telling this story. "So, they tried some things, but then were waiting on a phone call to give me a shot of glucose. My mother was running around the hospital, cursing, screaming, beating on the window where you can look at the babies; going crazy because they wouldn't give me a shot even though she'd said it was okay and they wouldn't be liable if something happened."

"So, she makes it to the nurses station and, is like please help me, they won't listen to me, my baby needs help. Then, this woman comes running up and is like how can I help you? And my mom explains everything that is happening with me and she's like, you don't remember me, do you? And my mom is like what? No. And then she said, 'You help save my brother, so what can I do for you?' And she gave me the shot, essentially saving my life. Basically, if my mom would've never helped save her brother, that woman would've never saved me." Anne stared at me with wide eyes and I can't help but chuckle.

"That sounds like a movie!" she squealed.

"That's what everybody says," I laughed, looking down at the marble counter.

"Well, you're here now, and we are so happy to have you."

"Thank you, so much. It's appreciated."

"No problem, dear. It's nice to see Harry being Harry again."

Hey guys! So, the story Neely told is actually what happened to me when I was born, only I was 23.5 inches long lol. My mom really is a nurse. Thank you for all the reads.
New cover... Tell me if you like it.
And- I'm reading all these other "coach styles" fics and it's killing me with how much improper punctuation there is.
Lawd.
Much love and always stay Larry af.