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Louis sighed, throwing his keys on the table as he walked through the door of his flat. "Harry?" He called, a little confused as to why there had been no lights on, and certainly no response. But that's when he saw the note. He narrowed his eyes and hesitantly picked it up, unknowingly reading the note that would be his undoing. By the end of it, he had to bite back a sob. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed the curly haired boy, because he wasn't going to let him get away with leaving. Not that easily. He wiped his eyes rather furiously and bit his lip as he waited to hear the deep voice on the other line.
Where he was, and where the time went, was a mystery to him. He'd been driving for what felt like hours, stopping ever so often to use the loo or get gas. He just needed to be as far away from is old life as possible, though he knows it will catch back up with him eventually. When his phone buzzed, he instantly knew it was Louis, because he was the only one who knew yet. It took all of his will to ignore it and keep driving, but if he answered he'd know Louis would do whatever it takes to get him to come back home.
Louis' hand tightened around the phone, because Harry was ignoring him. The realization hurt, because his Harry never ignored him. Then again, his Harry would never leave him. "C-Call me back? Please?" He whispered as soon as the phone went to voice mail. Though that didn't stop him. He dialed Harry's number again, refusing to stop calling until he picked up. He would have to, eventually.
Harry glanced over at his phone again, that just kept buzzing and buzzing, and picked it up, thumb hovering over the call button. No. He wasn't going to give into Louis that easily. Ignoring it once more, he pulled into the parking lot of a nice looking hotel, deciding to at least try and get some rest tonight, although that would be next to impossible.
Louis began to panic now. Harry would never ignore him this persistently... Would he? What if something was wrong? What if he was hurt or something? His mind went crazy with ideas, and he found himself unable to hold back the sobs. He sat down on the couch and tried calling again, praying that Harry would answer this time. When it went to voicemail, he left yet another message. "H-Harry, at l-least text me a-and tell me you're o-okay. Please," he begged, before he hung up and tried again.
As Harry walked inside of his hotel room, he pulled out his phone and sat down on the bed, hurting inside at how many times he's ignored Louis' calls, which he never does. Suddenly, a voicemail notification popped up on his phone, and he couldn't help but put the phone to his ear and listen, heart breaking further as he heard how worried and broken Louis sounded. Opening up a new message, he decided he owed Louis something for doing this to him. "I'm fine, Louis, I promise. You'll be fine, too, because I need you to be. I need you to be fine," he sent, and crawled into the bed, feeling utterly broken and empty.
Louis curled up on the couch as much as he could, finally just giving up. Harry really wanted nothing to do with him. It was his fault. It was all his fault. He should've been there more for Harry... He should've done a number of things, because if he had, Harry would still be with him, wrapped in his arms, or snuggling with him on the couch as they watched Love Actually. But he didn't do anything right, and now Harry had left. He shot up as soon as he felt his phone vibrate, and saw that he had a new message. He read it, and nearly started sobbing all over again. How was he supposed to be fine? He would never be fine. Especially after this. He didn't even know what he could say except, well, the truth. So that's what he replied with. "I'm not going to be fine, Harry. But I'm sorry... For whatever I did. Just tell me what I did wrong? I'll fix it. I promise, I'll fix it..." He quickly sent, before burying his face back into the arm of the couch.
Harry groaned as he felt his phone vibrate, because talking to Louis was just going to hurt more. He read the message, tears stinging his eyes and threatening to spill over. "God, you didn't do anything. I promise, Louis, this has nothing to do with you. It's me. I'm just not cut out for this sort of thing. Everyone's better off without me, and don't even try to pretend it's not true. Look, you need to be strong, for the band, because they'll need you a whole lot more after this. Just trust me on this one thing, Lou, because I need to do this. I love you always, Boobear," he sent, the tears falling freely down his face now.
Louis hadn't even focused in on the fact that he was leaving the band until he mentioned it in the next text. "That's not true, Harry. If you're not in the band, I'm not either. We're not One Direction without you... I get it if you want to be done with me. Fine, I won't talk to you unless it has to do with the band. But please, don't leave the band... Zayn, Liam, and Niall need you..." He replied, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. He was in shock that this was really happening. He'd hoped it was a bad dream, but he knew now that it wasn't.
"Stop. Don't talk like that, Louis. The band needs you.You guys will do fine without me, I promise.You and Niall's voices are getting stronger, and if you mix those with Liam's and Zayn's, it'd be like nothing changed. Please, Louis, just do this for me," Harry sent selfishly, because he was the one leaving after all. It was something he'd already come to terms with, though, because no matter what he did it always ended up being messed up anyhow. Louis had to be fine, though, because Harry couldn't go on otherwise.
"Fuck that, Harry. If you're gone, I'm gone. Liam and Zayn and Niall could probably all have solo careers, and all the One Direction stuff would just fade away as if we were never around. I'm not doing anything for you. You left me, and I don't owe you anything. Especially something as big as staying in a band," Louis was honestly angry now. He was alone, and it was because Harry simply left. He was almost sick over it. In fact, his stomach was already starting to churn. He slipped his phone in his pocket and made a beeline for the bathroom, because he was actually going to get sick. His tears continued to stream down his face, and it was all he could do to fall right in front of the toilet before he brought up his lunch. This couldn't be happening. This really couldn't be happening.
"I just need you to understand something, before you completely hate me forever. You were the best thing to ever happen to me, and One Direction is not far behind. I have to do this, and I just need you to understand how sorry I am, and how much of an impact you've had on my life. This wasn't a last minute decision, because I've been thinking about it for months. I knew the consequences of what I was doing, and I cried myself to sleep every night. I really hope you can forgive me one day in case we cross paths again, but until then I promise that I have and will always love you," Harry typed, angry and sad tears rolling down his face. His chest felt hollow, and everything hurt.
"Save it. You leaving promptly contradicted everything you just said. Obviously I'm not the best thing that ever happened to you, and obviously, the other lads mean nothing to you. And it feels great to know this wasn't a last minute decision. You could have talked to me, you know. You could have told me you were unhappy. But no, it had to be like this," he replied, though he was sure the text was riddled with spelling errors because his vision was blurred with tears. He tossed his phone to the side and wiped his mouth on the towel that hung on the rack, before getting to his feet shakily. He didn't bother grabbing his phone, because he was done with Harry for now. He couldn't do this to himself. He crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over his head, clenching his eyes shut.
Harry felt his heart break more and more with each word, and then he was violently sobbing, his throat constricting and chest tightening. He didn't know anything could hurt more than leaving, but Louis practically saying he wanted nothing to do with him hurt worse than anything ever would in his life. He buried his face deeper into the bed, and gripped the sheets tighter in his hands. It wasn't supposed to be like this, ever. Once a band always a band, right? But, no, Harry had to go and mess all of that up as well. He didn't bother answering, because why should he? Would there even be a point anymore?
Louis heard the familiar ringtone assigned to Liam ring throughout the flat, but he only buried himself further under the blankets. How was he supposed to tell them that Harry had walked out? He attempted to take a deep breath when the phone finally stopped ringing, but sure enough, it started ringing again only a few seconds later. He knew Liam was going to be persistent, but he wasn't moving from his bed. Ever. He wasn't going to go to work tomorrow, or the next day, or hell, not even the day after that. He was completely done with it all. If he didn't have Harry, he had nothing. He realized that he'd been a little too harsh with the curly haired boy, but he couldn't help it. Abandonment was the most awful feeling in the world, and he hadn't really known what it was like until now.
Harry lay there and cried, cried for Louis, the band, the pain, himself. It was pathetic, really, because this was all his fault anyway. Figuring it was worth a long, miserable shot, he called Louis, only to be brought to voicemail. Choking back another sob, and with a shaky voice, spoke into the phone. "I j-just..I'm sorry. Wanting to hear your voice. I know that's selfish..just. Nevermind," he said, hand clenched around the phone as he hung up, the sobs becoming uglier and louder.
Louis had nearly cried himself to sleep, used to the incessant sound of Liam's ringtone by now. But then, right as sleep was claiming his emotionally weakened mind, he heard something different. It wasn't Liam's anymore, but it was... Harry's? Louis shook his head and told himself that he wouldn't get up, because that would mean that Harry won. He wasn't going to let that happen. He closed his eyes again, but then he heard the shrill 'bing!' and he knew that Harry had left a voicemail. He scrambled out of bed and back to the bathroom, picking up his phone and pressing it to his ear. He listened to the voicemail and his breathing hitched in his throat. He was resisting the urge to call back. But he knew it was only a matter of minutes before he finally caved in.
The piercing tone of Louis' permanently set ringtone blared into the nearly quiet hotel room, and he scrambled to get his phone and press answer. Not being able to hear or touch him was killing him inside, and as horrible as it is, he won't be able to sleep tonight without it. "Louis, God, just let me explain. I'm so fucking sorry, okay? Jesus, I've never been more sorry in my life. I know it's so selfish, but I can't sleep without hearing your voice. I can't," he said, trying to ignore the way his voice cracked in millions of different places.
It took everything in Louis not to hang up right then. "I-I don't accept your apology, but I'm glad that I can help you sleep tonight. Because of this, I know I won't get any. Whatever, I have t-to go... I've got to call the other lads a-and tell them," Louis was shocked, because he was slightly scared of his own tone. He stood in the bathroom and looked at the mirror, his face pale and his eyes red and swollen. "Bye, Harry. Thanks," he whispered, taking the phone and pressing the button to end the call. He was horrified after the fact, because he had never hung up on Harry... Ever.
Harry stared down at the phone, and it was like his whole life had been taken away from him. The laughter, the smiles, the giggles and everything that had to do with happiness. There was no happiness anymore, because one mistake can change your life forever. He, sadly and unbelievably, would be losing his best friend, the complete and absolute best thing to ever happen to him. Pulling up Twitter, he was going to type the one last thing to the public. "Things aren't always perfect, and people make mistakes. Mine meant losing someone more important to me than anything, even if he doesn't believe that. I'm sorry," he wrote, still sitting on the bed, face blank. He felt like he couldn't breathe, but maybe that was okay.
Louis crawled back into bed and placed his phone next to him. His phone sounded again, and he looked to see that it was a twitter notification. Of course, Harry had been the author. The tweet only added fuel to the flames. He opened his phone and began to compose his own, but quickly realized that 'stooping to Harry's level' would only hurt more. And when the anger completely consumed him, he found himself throwing the phone at the wall. And when it broke, he was more than relieved. He pulled the covers up again and buried himself into the mattress, before attempting to sleep. Surprisingly, it came quicker than he thought it would. He was grateful.
Harry wasn't surprised that the didn't hear from Louis at all. He wasn't surprised the he found himself driving back home, if he even had a home anymore. He couldn't go back to his old flat, no, of course not. The pain and the reality that Louis hated him hit like a ton of bricks, and he found himself feeling like he was suffocating. Harry drove to his mum's, and when she saw the tear tracks, she let him come in wordlessly, not asking questions, and not bothering him. Every waking moment was spent thinking about Louis, and when he was asleep? Dreaming about it. Which didn't help.
The sleep was interrupted about an hour later, and he couldn't help but let his thoughts wander. By next week, Harry would have a new person to tell that he 'loved', and his solo career would already be on it's way. The thoughts made him nearly sick again, and he was honestly mortified by that because to him, that was definitely the truth. He was already starting to regret smashing his phone. Then again, maybe it had been a good thing. Even if he was plagued with the temptation to ring Harry yet again, now he really couldn't.
There were countless moments spent in the bathroom, hurling up each memory, each laugh, each smile, thrown away by one simple move. He didn't eat, he barely slept. All he did was sit in his old room, looking up video after video, and picture after picture of Louis, and some Louis and him together. The pain was still there, obviously, and the pictures and all that didn't help, but it was better than the reality. The reality that his 'best friend' wanted nothing to do with him ever again, and the reality that he may never get the chance to see him in person again. He could go back to his old flat, but he just knew he wouldn't be welcome there, so he didn't try. He just sulked over Louis, and cried all the time. He was a right mess.
Louis willed himself back to sleep, because he somehow convinced himself that the next time he woke up, Harry would be there. His strong arms would be wrapped around him, and he'd rest his head against Harry's chest like always. He'd be happy again, breathing in that scent that was just Harry. It was warm, and inviting, and lulling, and just perfect. His cologne was never too strong, but definitely noticeable. It had a certain spice component to it, but also something sweet. It was complicated, but oh, it was lovely. And the realization that he'd never have the chance to wake up to that, like he usually did, ever again hit him like a mack truck. This just wasn't fair. He found that the tears started almost immediately again, and there was nothing he could do to stop them.
It had been three days. Three days since he last saw Louis, which seemed like forever, and two days since Louis last talked to him, not so very subtly saying that he was done. It was far too long in Harry's eyes, and his mom didn't question him once again as he left the house. Really, it was stupid to think that everything would be fine once he got there. That Louis would just forgive him and they could go on like nothing happened. The tears were constant now, and it was really impossible to stop them. He pulled up to his and Louis' flat and walked up to the door, still having his key. After opening it, he noticed how empty and dead it felt, and that made his heart hurt more. "Louis?" he croaked, wincing at the way his voice cracked, stinging his eyes once more.
Two days. Two days since Louis had moved. Well, he had gotten up to go to the bathroom obviously, but when he was done, he always crawled right back into bed. He was staring at the ceiling when he heard the distinct jingle of keys and the click of the lock. The only person who had a key was... Harry. Was Harry really back? He bit his lip and realized that he was probably just imagining it. So he didn't move from his spot, not even when he was certain this wasn't a dream. "Go away..." he replied, though it was weak and broken and hardly sincere enough to be believable. He wanted Harry to come in and hold him like he used to, but he knew it was asking for too much.
Harry threw his keys on the counter and hung his coat up before he slowly trudged up the stairs. He hesitated outside of Louis' door, because this was taking a huge risk in and of itself. Taking a deep, and shaky, breath, he entered Louis' room without knocking, because they never do, and just stood there. Silent tears rolled down his face, because there was no way to ever tell Louis just how much he was sorry, and he took a small step toward Louis, who just seemed to be laying there. "Lou..," he said, wincing at how ghostly his voice sounded.
Louis' hand fisted around the sheets, and his honestly wished he had something to throw at Harry. Of course he had nothing. Well, except his pillow... But that would hardly put a scratch on Harry's head. Not that he wanted it to. "Harry, what the fuck do you want?" He hissed, lifting his head off the pillow to peer at the younger lad. He looked like hell, honestly. Then again, Louis figured that he did too. He hadn't shaved for about three days, and surprisingly, he'd already had a formation of stubble along his jawline. His hair was a mess and his eyes were still red and puffy. He looked awful, and now he was embarrassed that Harry had to see him like this.
Harry flinched and wiped his eyes, biting the inside of his cheeks to keep an ugly sob inside. He knew Louis hated him, but the pain hadn't really settled in until now. "I just..I can't..I mean..You can't.." he stuttered, shaking his head and falling to his knees, horrible, loud sobs wracking from his body. Louis meant the absolute world to him, and it was so, so, hard to know that the feeling wasn't mutual. Now, sitting here pathetically and crying into his knees, he knew he'd regret leaving for the rest of his life.
Louis' jaw clenched when he heard the way Harry protested. He was just making things difficult. He slowly sat up just as Harry fell to his knees, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for it. He pulled himself from the confines of his duvet, and stood on legs that were about to buckle at any moment. He was surprised when he made it all the way to Harry before falling to his own knees next to him. Slowly, as if he'd be pushed away, he wrapped hims arms around Harry. He wasn't going to let him push away, though he hoped that Harry wouldn't fight it. "Shhhh... Stop it, Harry. S'alright..." He whispered, resting his cheek atop Harry's head.
Harry lunged forward, and wrapped his arms around Louis, burying his face in his neck and crying, hard. "I'm so, so, sorry, Louis. God, I'm so sorry. You have no idea. I just.. Please, don't hate me. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, just..," he rambled, heart breaking more and more with each word he spoke. He was probably too late, but he had to try. "I love you. I love you so much. You have to know that. Oh, God," he cried, clinging closer to Louis as if he'd float away.
Louis tensed a little, though he didn't loosen his grip. Not a bit. "H-Harry... Please. I don't hate you, I'd never hate you," he soothed, placing a small kiss to his head. He rubbed little circles into the lad's back, seeing that he was basically cradling the much bigger boy. But he didn't care. He was just happy to have him back. "I love you too, Harry. I love you so much. But calm down... You've got to calm down," he cooed, slightly proud of himself for being so strong on the outside when he was still crumbling on the inside.
That just made him cry harder, and his hands were gripped in Louis' shirt so tight his knuckles were turning white. "I had a moment of madness. I c-can't live without you. It's not possible," he said, trying to breathe, though his lungs felt constricted. "I can't c-calm down, because you just..I mean..I'm so so sorry," he repeated, because he felt hollow inside. Harry was worn out from crying, but sitting here, holding onto Louis for dear life, made him realize what he almost lost, and that was another reason why he couldn't stop crying.
Louis sighed, blinking back tears of his own. But it seemed that Harry was doing enough crying for the both of them. "Harry, it's really alright.. We all make mistakes, yeah? You're not an exception. It's alright. But I really need you to just breathe... C'mon, love. I promise, it's alright," he tried to soothe him again, because now he was just getting scared. Harry's breathing was erratic and Louis didn't know how else to soothe him other than words. "I'll make you a cup of tea and then you can lie down, okay? I'm sure you're exhausted, huh?" He continued to rub his back, hoping that would do the trick.
Harry pulled back and wiped his eyes. He looked like a mess, and felt like one, and the fact that Louis just accepted him back so easily wanted to make him cry again. He stood up, as did Louis, and right when Louis was about to leave he grabbed his hand. "Y-you'll stay with me, right?" he asked, voice cracking. "I mean I know I don't deserve that, but..I just need you right now. Please," he said, eyes tearing up again. The tears seemed to never stop.
"Yes babe, of course I'll stay with you. You didn't have to ask. Just sit tight, I'll go put the kettle on," Louis gave Harry's hand a gentle squeeze before stepping forward to place a kiss on his forehead. As soon he he had reassured Harry, he headed into the kitchen to make tea like he'd mentioned. He put the kettle on and went about getting down two cups and the proper things that he liked to add to it. He waited a few minutes for the kettle to whistle, and when it did, he went about pouring some into each porcelain cup. He waited for them to cool a little and added all the necessities to both cups, before carrying them back into the bedroom. He set them both down on the bedside table, then looked at Harry. "It's still really hot, love. So be careful," he warned, sort of like an overprotective parent of sorts.
"I didn't mean to h-hurt you. I thought you were so much better off without me, but I can't bear to be away from you," Harry said as he crawled into the bed. He watched as Louis walked around to the other side and climbed in, and he instantly went and curled up to Louis' side, trying to dull the pain somehow. "I love you more than anything, Lou. And I meant it when I was gone, too. I didn't even think about the pain inflicted on you when I left. I was being too selfish," he said, clinging to Louis like a needy child.
Louis bit his lip, wishing Harry would just drop it for now. But nonetheless, he wrapped arm around him again and held him close. "Harry, give it a rest. Stop talking about it. I said it was fine, and it is. It's fine... Just relax, alright? Please?" He whispered softly, hoping that Harry would actually listen to him. It wasn't going to help either one of them if all Harry did was repeat what he'd done and how sorry he was. Louis got it, and his apology was accepted the first time it was uttered.
Harry took a long, deep breath and willed himself to calm down. Looking up at Louis, Harry moved his head and placed a small kiss on his cheek, accidentally getting the corner of his mouth, and blushing a deep shade of red. "I love you," he repeated, not bringing back the subject but just stating it, knowing he meant every word times ten. Louis was his whole, and to think that he didn't take him into consideration hurt.
Louis' lips turned up into a small smile, and he nodded. "And I love you," he whispered before taking a deep breath and sighing with contentment. He was confident that Harry wouldn't leave him like that ever again, and for that, he was grateful. His hand traced small patterns into the fabric of Harry's shirt, his eyelids already starting to droop. But he quickly opened them again, not wanting to fall asleep just yet.
Harry sighed, his hands playing with the fabric on Louis' shirt. "Lou?" he asked, to which Louis replied, "Hmm?" "Have you ever kissed a guy?" he asked, immediately blushing and hiding his face. "I mean, just wondering," he added, shrugging, and went back to picking the fabric on Louis' jumper.
Louis' eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head. "Ehm, no... No, I haven't. That's an odd question, though. Have you?" He questioned, tilting his head down to look at Harry. He felt his cheeks grow hot, wondering why Harry had asked that. It seemed like an awkward time to ask such a thing, but he didn't dare say that out loud.
Harry swallowed hard, blushing even deeper. "No," he replied, sighing. "Let's just go to bed, yeah?" he asked, wincing at the slight crack to his voice. He sunk further into the bed, and turned so his back was to Louis, but still snuggled in close, just needing it to even sleep.
Louis opened his mouth to protest, but he didn't. He just nodded, and made sure his grip on Harry was snug. "Goodnight, Harry... I really do love you, you know... And thank you. You know, for coming back..." He whispered meekly, though he shut his eyes and hoping that Harry didn't say much more. He was already more embarrassed than he planned on being in one night.
Harry sighed, and turned back over, placing a kiss to Louis' forehead, and this time, cuddling into his chest. "I shouldn't have left. But, that's not the point. I'm here, now, and I'm never leaving you again," he said, yawning. He could almost taste the awkwardness, and he knew he shouldn't of asked that question, because of course Louis only loved him as a best friend. It's always been like that.
Louis snuggled into the boy, relishing in his warmth. "Do you promise? Because I don't think I'll be able to handle it if you left again. I could barely handle it this time," He confessed, his voice muffled by the boy's curls. As soon as Harry yawned, it was almost a reflex to do the same. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, and he knew sleep would take over him rather soon. "You know, the lads don't even know...Well, maybe they do. But I didn't tell them."
Harry tensed, and held Louis closer to him. The reasons he left..well, Louis was clueless to. He only had half the story. "I'm not leaving you again, Lou. Trust me, it hurt me just as much. I just..I guess I needed to think, but I couldn't do much of that when I was missing you," Harry said, voice still not sounding like his own. It's kind of funny that Louis still has absolutely no idea, because leaving should of made it pretty obvious.
"Mm, well... Whatever. Let's just try and forget about that. I know that will be impossible, but... maybe it'll be easier?" He whispered, his voice much weaker and smaller than he had intended. His finger gently twisted themselves into the fabric of Harry's shirt and he chewed on the inside of his cheek, hoping that the subject would be dropped sometime soon.
\"We can, for now. But it didn't just not happen. People are gonna find out somehow, they always do, and questions are going to be asked," Harry replied, sighing. He looked up at Louis through the darkness, and dared to say, "But I can't do this without you." As soon as the words left his lips, he felt horrible, but it was the truth.
"Yeah, I s'pose you're right. I dunno what we're going to do about it, though. Management will probably try and make up some bullshit story, and we're going to be forced to go along with it. You do realize that, right?" He mumbled, shaking his head just a little. "You won't have to do it without me. I'll always be here, Harry. I'm not going anywhere," he replied, a crooked smile toying with the corners of his mouth.
"Let's just go to sleep," Harry said, not even trying to hide the crack in his voice. This wasn't even his original plan. He was supposed to be long gone now. Away from everything Louis. But, then again, fate had a different plan. Now, here he was, stuck with his best friend who literally means the world to him, yet hurts him everyday and he doesn't even know it. Harry made a small sound, and tried to cover it up with a cough as he snuggled in closer to Louis.
Louis nodded, and pulled the blanket up further around his shoulders before draping his arms around Harry again. "G'night, Haz..." He whispered, though he had picked up on the way Harry's voice cracked. He was a bit confused, because there really wasn't anything to be upset about anymore, right? Maybe Harry had something else on his mind. But he was too tired to ask then. He made a note to ask him in the morning, though. He stifled another yawn, and within minutes, he was asleep.
When Harry awoke, he was closer to Louis than he ever imagined possible, and he had to take a deep breath before slightly untangling himself from Louis, careful not to wake him. As he got out of bed and stalked toward the bathroom, he looked in the mirror, and the sight made him gasp. His eyes were red and puffy, his hair just everywhere, and there were fresh tears tracks on his cheeks. Sniffling, he wiped them away, and turned on the sink, evident on washing it away before Louis saw.
When Louis woke up, he found that the spot next to him was empty. His eyes widened and he immediately sat up. Had Harry left again? He whimpered and immediately began wiping at his eyes, already starting to cry. But then he heard the sink turn on, and he realized Harry was in the bathroom. His heart rate went back to normal, and he didn't quite feel like dying anymore. He sniffled and climbed out of bed, unsure of what to do. He decided to give Harry his space, and he dragged his feet into the living room where he sat on the couch and turned on some random program.
Harry rested his head on his arms and took a deep breath. Everything was so, so fucked up, and it's not like he hasn't remembered why he left in the first place. It should be clear to everyone. Hell, even the other boys had picked up on it, they just haven't said anything. Walking into the livingroom, he noticed Louis lounging on the couch, watching some not very interesting program. "Want breakfast?" he asked when he got in the kitchen.
"Morning, Haz... Sure, breakfast sounds lovely." Louis smiled briefly, before turning his attention back to the television. The program was dreadful, and he found himself changing the channel to something else. It landed on some corny soap opera, and he kept it on. Surely the characters on there had it worse than he did, right? And, as bad as it sounded, he had to come up with a way to make himself feel better. Watching others with fucked up lives seemed to do the trick. "We've got to be at work in like... two hours, so. Just a head's up."
Harry facepalmed, and nearly whined. He was in no mood for work, and in no mood to hear Louis' fucking flawless voice as they rehearse and practice and choose. He just sighs, though, because he has no choice, and starts making pancakes, eggs, and bacon. One of Louis' favorite meals. Harry's voice sounds off when he calls Louis in the kitchen to eat, and he ignores the worried glance Louis gives him.
Louis took a seat at the table, and pursed his lips. What the hell was up with Harry now? Obviously something. He didn't know whether or not to question it, though. The last thing he wanted to do was upset him. But he was so confused about everything, and he really did want answers. He managed a smile as the food was placed in front of him, and murmured a quick 'thanks' before he started eating it. He hadn't really eaten that much lately. Not at all since Harry left.
Harry sits in front of Louis at the breakfast bar, and starts to wordlessly pick at his own food. He's not that hungry anymore, and really all he feels like doing is throwing up whatever emptiness he has left in his stomach. "We shouldn't-" Harry started, clearing his throat. "We shouldn't tell the boys. I mean, not yet, if they don't already know. I just..don't need them to worry, you know?" he asked, voice dipping into a low whisper.
Louis stopped mid-chew, placing his fork down and simply looking at Harry. He swallowed the food, which was a bit painful, before clearing his throat. "Ehm... Right. They're going to know something happened, because they've been calling me off the hook for the past few days. Well, I assume they have been. I wouldn't know, since I basically smashed my phone after I hung up on you..." He grumbled, looking down at his lap. God, he was stupid.
Harry flinched, and he swallowed hard, eyes cast to the ground. "Just..fuck," he says, and his voice sounds broken and hurt even to himself. Sinking into the chair and resting his forehead on his arms, he wonders just what it would take for him to be able to skip today, and just mope about what a huge fuck-up he is. Knowing that won't happen, though, he stands up from his spot and doesn't look at Louis as he says, "I should get ready then, huh?" His voice was trembling, but that's only because he felt like crying again.
"Uh, yeah... I guess I should as well," he whispered with a small laugh, though it carried no humor whatsoever. He stood up and cleared the plates, dumping the uneaten bits into the trash before putting them in the dishwasher. He sighed and went back to his room, totally unmotivated for the day ahead. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a plain black shirt, not really feeling up to putting actual effort into his outfit. He slipped on his navy converse and slipped into the bathroom to do his hair. After deeming it uncontrollable, he just covered it up with a random beanie he'd found on his dresser.
Harry felt lost. All of his things were outside, packed in his car. Trying not to seem hurt, or just tired he walked into Louis' room. Biting his lip and chanting in his head that he needs to stop staring, he finally looks up into Louis' eyes, and swallows. "Can I borrow some clothes? I mean, I don't have anything in here right now," he mumbled, and tried to pretend he wasn't staring at Louis' ass as he walked over to the closet.
Louis nodded, and motioned toward the closet. "Sure, mate. I'm pretty sure I've got some of your clothes mixed in with mine as well.... Unless you went through my stuff and took those when you were leaving," he raised his eyebrows, wondering if he had. Not that he really cared much. They shared a flat, so consequently, they tended to share most of the same things as well. He just didn't know if any of his clothes would actually fit Harry without looking unbearably ridiculous.
Harry shook his head, and really didn't want that subject to be brought up again. "No, I didn't," was all he said, because he figured he'd leave Louis with something to remember him by, even if it was just lousy pieces of fabric. He sighs as he bends down and begins to rummage through the mess that Louis calls his closet, and for some reason, his hands are trembling.
Louis sat on the edge of the bed and simply watched as Harry sorted through all of his clothing. He looked around the room, and it was as if he was realizing he was the messiest human on the planet for the first time. "I think I should probably clean up around here.... I'll get around to it eventually," he whispered, though it was more to himself. He almost missed the way Harry's hands trembled when he was surveying the room. "Are you alright, Harry...?" He knew he wasn't, but hey. Maybe Harry would actually open up some more.
Harry shakes his head, because what's the point in lying anymore? "No. God, no. I'm never going to fucking be alright," he says, voice barely above normal as he falls to the ground. Crying is what he feels like doing, because that's all he seems to ever do these days. Really, it's so pathetic and selfish that he'd sitting here, breathing hard, on the verge of tears, when if he just spoke to Louis about what was wrong, this could be solved one way or another.
Louis almost regretted asking. Maybe if he hadn't brought it up, this wouldn't have happened. But he knew that if he hadn't, it would've happened later, and probably would've been a lot worse. He slowly lowered himself to the ground and scooted over to Harry, his arms snaking out to wrap around him again. It was almost exactly like the scenario the night previous. But Harry was a little calmer, thank god. He didn't say anything though, partially because he didn't know what to say. He was pretty bad at these things, if it wasn't obvious.
Harry's nails dig into the carpet, and he has to will himself to stay calm and not start bawling. "Don't you understand, Louis?" he started, a small, sadistic smile plastered on his face, though Louis was blind to it. "I love you. Not just love though, no," he said, laughing bitterly. "I'm so god damn in love with you it hurts. That's why I had to leave, because I couldn't take it anymore. Coming back was me reminding myself that it's impossible to live without you, no matter what the circumstances are." He was crying now, and he glanced over at Louis.
Louis' arms dropped from around Harry, and he moved back a little to look at Harry. Was he serious? Judging by the expression on his face, he really was. "O-Oh...." He managed, and that was the only thing he could say. He wanted to tell Harry that he loved him the same way, he wanted to tell him that he'd loved him for a long time, because it was the truth. But he couldn't. He was honestly shocked. He stood up and looked around the room, before grabbing his keys. "I'll... I'll be in the car..." He murmured airily, and turned to walk out. The past few days had certainly been interesting.
Harry just sat there staring blankly at the ground. He should've felt worst than he already did, but he knew the rejection was coming. Standing up, and deciding to just say fuck everything, he slowly trudged into his room, locked the door, and fell onto his bed. Maybe Louis would just get the hint and leave, because there is no way in hell he wants to go to rehearsals now. He pulled out his phone though, and pulled up a message to Niall. "Louis' phone is broken, and I don't feel well enough to get up and tell him..so would one of you drive over hear and tell him to just go without me? By the way, I'm not coming to the studio today. Let's just say I'm sick," he sent, though he knows Louis would become impatient and come looking for him anyway, whether or not he'll move was another story.
Louis sat in his car for five minutes. That five minutes turned into ten. That ten turned into twenty. Finally, he saw a familiar car pull up next to him. It was Niall. Louis shot him a confused look and rolled down the window, watching as Niall did the same. "Harry texted me and told me that he wasn't feeling well, so you should head to rehearsals without him," the blonde spoke, and Louis' jaw clenched. "Oh really? Okay, thanks. I'll see you at the studio, then," He plastered a fake smile on his face, and motioned for Niall to head back to the studio. When he drove off, Louis hopped out of the car and strolled back to the flat. He marched right up to Harry's room and knocked on the door, crossing his arms. "Harry, don't be a fucking baby. We have to go to work. Stop this."
Harry flinched, because he knew how pathetic this was. He didn't have any energy left though, and his body felt like jelly, so Louis can fuck off. "You have to go to work. I'm taking a sick day," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Harry just felt...done. He didn't have anything else left to give, and everyone around him just wanted and wanted. He guesses that's a part of the reason he left in the first place, but he doesn't bring that up.
"You're taking a sick day? Last I checked, you're not sick. I was sitting in the car, waiting for you. Get up, and get your shit together. We're going to work..." He snapped, his patience suddenly wearing thinner and thinner. This was ridiculous. He didn't know what to do with Harry anymore... This wasn't the Harry he'd met back when they were on the X Factor. And it was driving him slightly crazy. "I will honestly break the door down, Harry. Don't even test me," he added, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.
Harry didn't move. He knew he was pushing Louis' buttons, but maybe Louis should have to feel what it's like to wait for once. They're probably already late, but Harry didn't care. He just lay there, face down on the bed, silent tears falling from his eyes, as if that were something new. He could faintly here Louis getting more and more frustrated, and then he heard a loud 'bang' on his door, as if Louis really was trying to break it down. Was it horrible that Harry couldn't find it in himself to care?
Louis let out a cry of sheer frustration, and stopped trying to break down the door. "Harry, I swear to fucking god... What happened to you!? You know what, I don't even want to know. I'm going to work, and I will tell the lads just what's going on. Because obviously there's a screw loose in your head. I don't even know what to do with you..." he seethed, walking away from the door and going back to his car. If Harry wanted to be a baby, then fine. Louis was going to treat him as such.
"You," Harry faintly whispered, though it was no use. "You happened to me, Louis," Harry said out loud to no one. Louis ruined him, that much was sure, but he couldn't really blame that on Louis, could he? It was his own mistake for falling in love with him, his own mistake for thinking he could live without him, his own mistake for telling him.. So many mistakes he's made in the last couple of months. It was all because he was living, and breathing, and that was just too much for anyone.
Louis simply sat in his car for a few minutes, before he actually started driving to the studio. When he got there, he didn't say hello to anyone, but instead just sat down and sulked. "What's wrong with him?" Liam whispered to Zayn, and the raven haired lad simply shrugged. "I dunno... Louis, where is Harry?" Louis scoffed, and rolled his eyes. "At home, being a goddamn baby," he grumbled, sinking lower in his seat.
Harry hasn't done it in a while, told himself that one day Louis actually might love him back, and he needed to stop just in case. Now that he knew that it wasn't going to happen, the thought of it had him racing to the bathroom and looking under the sink cabinets for his black box. The box that held his razors.
Liam looked at Louis and frowned, because he was being unnecessarily cold today. "What's up with you?" He questioned softly, and Louis shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing's up," he replied, crossing his arms and staring at the ground. Today sucked. Really, really sucked. "I just want to go home..." He whined, rubbing his eyes a little. The other boys all raised their eyebrows collectively, because something was definitely up. Harry was 'sick' and Louis was whining.
Harry opened the box, knowing that it was such a stupid thing to do, but figuring he had no other choice. The pain from Louis was becoming too much, and it's not like he can up and leave. He's tried that already. Sighing, he pulled a razor out, turning it over in his hands before going and grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. "Lou.. You know why I left, and I honestly regret telling you everything now. It's resulted in this horrible, horrible, thing that only numbs the pain for a while. I'm not leaving you, no, I promised. But, I feel as though you left me, and I'm finally accepting that. We'll be roommates, and bandmates, and I'll still cook so you won't burn down the flat. So, I'm sorry," he wrote, a tear dripping onto the page.
Louis watched the clock intently, because he just wanted to go home and curl up in bed like he had been doing. But of course, he couldn't. He waited until it was his turn to go and do his part, and when it was, he dragged his feet over to the booth. The other boys all remarked that he was virtually lifeless today, and that was never the case. A few failed takes later, he finally got the clear to go home; the producers made him take a sick day. He flinched when they used that terminology, because it was the exact wording Harry had used. Well, obviously. There wasn't another word for taking off. But still. He waved goodbye to the lads and grabbed his keys, wasting no time in climbing into his car and starting it up.
Harry looked at the gleaming object in his hands, remembering every slice on his skin. He only did this when he felt numb, because physical pain brought him back to life a little. He checked his phone, figuring he had at least thirty minutes until Louis came home from the studio, which meant he had just enough time to cover everything up. Grabbing the paper and standing up, he went into Louis' room and put the note on the bed. He was just about to cut when the click of the door stopped him, and it felt like everything else just went down the drain.
Louis walked in and threw his keys on the table, half expecting to see a note like he had just days before. But there was none. That was a relief to him; a major one. "I'm back...." He mumbled, though it was loud enough for the other boy to hear. He slipped off his shoes and walked back to where he presumed Harry to be. He was right, but he wasn't expecting what he saw. There was a blade in Harry's hand, and it made Louis' heart nearly stop. "H-Harry, what are you doing?!" he shrieked, rushing forward to take the sharp object from his hands.
Harry was horrified. The expression on his face could only be interpreted as pain and horror. "I just..I was going to..before you came home. You weren't supposed to know," he mumbled weakly, knowing this was the last straw. He sunk down to the floor, and could only cry, because this is the secret he kept from everyone. The one that would ruin him if it got out. The worst person to find out would be Louis, and now he knows that everything is just about to get worse.
Louis shook his head and tossed the blade to his dresser, ignoring the way it clanked. He took a shaky breath and pulled Harry into a tight hug, because that was the only thing he wanted to do. "O-Oh my god, Harry.... I'm so s-sorry... Oh my g-god..." He stammered, already starting to cry. He felt fucking awful. He was obviously a terrible person for making Harry feel that way.
Harry hugged Louis with everything he had, crying into his shoulder. "I just.." he tried, shaking his head and gripping Louis shirt in his hands. Louis wasn't supposed to feel bad. It wasn't his fault. "Don't blame y-yourself," he stuttered, breathing becoming ragged already. What would Louis think of him now? He's already disgusted about Harry loving him, in any way but platonic, and now he has more reasons to hate him.
Louis shook his head. "I should've told you I love you... What the fuck is wrong with me?" He managed, his voice high pitched and at the point of breaking. "I do love you, Harry. I have loved you since X Factor. Oh my god, why didn't I tell you? This is my fault.... This is all my fault..." He added, running a hand through Harry's hair and holding him unbearably tight. He was such a fucking idiot. This was his fault.
Harry whined, and clung to Louis tighter. It's a spur of the moment thing; something always pops out of Louis' mouth when he wants him to feel better, and he usually regrets it later. "No, it's okay, Lou. I get it. I-I understand," he replied simply, and tried to stop crying. It was hard, though, because now his secret was out, and now Louis knew how broken he was. Who wants a broken person anyway?
Louis shook his head and readjusted himself to better hold Harry, his eyes wide with so many different emotions. "No, it's not okay. I'm not just saying it. I love you. I promise, I love you. Remember when we met in the toilets? Do you know that I couldn't stop thinking about you after that? Ugh, that sounds so creepy..." He mumbled the last part to himself, before blinking a few times and getting back on track. "Harry, I love you. And I should've said it earlier. I should've told you how much you meant to me after this morning..." He added, his eyes glazing over with tears for the millionth time.
Harry slowly lifted his head, and sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. Looking into Louis' eyes, he almost started laughing, because it seemed that Louis actually meant it. That was something he never expected, especially since the rejection that had only took place hours before. Calming down, he lifted one finger under Louis' chin and slowly leaned in, his green eyes staring into Louis' blue. He almost gasped when their lips touched, because it was like igniting a fire.
Louis' breathing caught in his throat as Harry leaned in for the kiss, because he certainly hadn't been expecting that. But it didn't take long for him to return it once the initial shock factor wore off. And it was undoubtedly the best kiss he'd ever had, even if it was unexpected. It was soft, and beautiful, and just perfect. "W-What was that?" He breathed as soon as they pulled away, trying to conceal his smile. But he was always bad at hiding happiness.
Harry's eyes had fluttered closed, and it took a moment for him to steady his breathing. He felt as if none of this were real, and Louis was just a dream. Opening up his eyes, he couldn't help but break out into a smile when he saw Louis' face. He didn't look disgusted at all. Actually, he seemed happy. "That was our first kiss," Harry replied, moving his head up to place a lingering kiss on Louis' forehead.
"Well, I know what it was, but... What was that?" Louis squeaked, barely able to contain his excitement. He snuggled into Harry as he placed a kiss on his forehead, sort of loving the way it seemed to be so natural. "God, I love you... So, so much," he whispered, his voice muffled by the thin fabric of Harry's shirt. He didn't want the moment to ever expire; it was perfect the way it was. "And we'll... We'll find you help, if you need it. You know, for..." He nodded his head toward the dresser where the razor blade rested, unsure of how to say it. It was a little uncomfortable, to say the least.
Harry tensed, and cleared his throat. "I didn't," he started, shaking his head. "I didn't, you know, cut today. I was going to, before you came. It had been a year since I willed myself to stop, but that was only for you. Honestly, I'm so shocked right now, because I prepared a note and everything," he stopped, glancing over at Louis' bed, where the note lay; the one Harry never wanted Louis to read. Not now, at least. "I just..I'm fine, though," he said, subconsciously picking at his arms.
Louis chewed on the inside of his lip, listening intently to what Harry had to say. "Well, I'm glad you didn't... And why did you write a note? Were you planning on... You know..." Louis trailed off, but his gaze landed on the note. He honestly didn't want to read it; in fact, he sort of hoped Harry would agree to burning it later on. "Are you fine? Because I... I want you to be healthy, you know? I know, most of the shit you've gone through was my fault, and I'm so sorry.." He apologized again, because he really felt awful.
Harry sighed, and shook his head. "I wasn't going to leave you again," he said, glancing up towards Louis. "We both know I can't do that. The note basically said that I found it in myself to accept your rejection," he started, swallowing hard and glancing at the ground, "And that I was fine being roommates and flatmates, just to make everything easier," he said, voice barely audible. Clearing his throat, he put a half-ass smile on. "But I'm fine, I promise. This past week had been shit, but now I'm right where I want to be," he said, hesitantly grabbing Louis' hand.
"O-Oh..." He breathed a sigh of relief, because at least it wasn't the other kind of note. Louis couldn't even bring himself to think about that anymore. It was making him sick. Louis gave Harry's hand a hesitant squeeze, and managed a shaky smile. "I know it's been shit, and I could've made it a ton easier on you... But you know me. I can be a bit bitchy," he cheeks turned bright red as he shrugged, because he knew how hard he could be to get along with most of the time. But that was Louis for you.
"I love you," Harry stated, eyes sparkling. It meant more now, and he almost forgot that he just kissed Louis fucking Tomlinson, and he is not not remembering that. Getting up on his knees, he hooked his arms around the back of Louis' neck, grinning like a fool. He didn't even give Louis a chance to respond before their lips were crashed together. "I love you. I love you I love you I love you," he murmured against Louis' lips over and over, because it still felt like a dream.
Louis nearly fell back as Harry wrapped his arms around him, and he couldn't help but giggle. "Ha-" he was cut off rather abruptly when their lips met again, though, and he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and leaned forward, only intensifying the kiss further. "I love you more. So much more, Styles," he murmured back, only pulling away for a short breath before planting his lips on Harry's again. This week had turned out to be a lot better than it had started out to be, that was for sure.
Harry let out a small groan, and pressed himself against Louis, chest to chest. "Mmm. I don't think you do," Harry replied, out of breath. "I've waited two years for you, Lou," he stated, pressing their mouths together again like he couldn't get enough. He couldn't, honestly, because not every says they've kissed Louis Tomlinson, much less make out with him.
"If you remember correctly, I already told you that I've been waiting since we first talked in the bathroom. Took fucking long enough, hm?" He mumbled, leaning back against the wall to make it more convenient. The thought of someone coming into the room crossed his mind, and he couldn't help but giggle a little bit. That would be unbearably awkward, yes, but also terribly funny. "You know, you kiss so much better than Eleanor?" He added with an innocent look, leaning into press his lips against Harry's once more.
The End