aspyringmachine
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
He pries his lids apart, squinting up at the sudden rush of light. The first thing he sees when his vision adjusts is another pair of eyes - blue and concerned. He blinks, wincing when another shock of pain slashes through him.
“I’m going to ask you a few questions, alright?” the person says. Harry can just see his outline, fading into the sky - glowing a bit, like some sort of celestial being. “What’s your name?”
It takes a minute for him to remember how to string words together, mind to mouth coordination disconnected. “Harry Styles,” he says.
-
No one told Harry that a paramedic could be this pretty.