fic: when hope was high and life worth living;
title: when hope was high and life worth living
pairing: harry/louis, liam/zayn
rating: …they’re apples.
warning: character death.
universe: apple!au
summary: they’re picked all at the same time. it makes sense, really, when harry thinks about all the things they've been through together.
notes: who lets me write what lucy tells me to when i’m on cold meds and can’t feel my nose. also this is actually horrible and a byproduct of random bits of prose and uncertainty how apples would communicate. very disjointed. also. apples.
the orchard’s a nice home, considering harry’s never known any other. it’s somewhere just cool enough in the night and warm and breezy in the day, that he sways back and forth just enough to rock him to sleep most nights. it stretches out for a long while, as far as harry can see.
across the lane the other apples chatter to themselves, their voices just soft enough to carry on the wind and float over to harry. he doesn’t have to listen hard, already knows what the other apples are saying. he grew up with them, budded with them at the same time, held his breath at the same time when prospective pickers walked by.
right before he dozes off, the moon hanging low above the tree, the light of it reflecting off niall, the apple to his right, he hears low murmurs from the tree across the lane from theirs.
i've had a horrible feeling lately. the smaller apple he’s come to know as louis says. something's coming. something bad.
beside him, liam tilts to the left. are you sure?
louis sighs, a soft noise that just sounds like part of the world around him. sure. it’s our lot in life. he says, and he sounds defeated.
harry watches as louis turns away from liam, knowing exactly what they're talking about. he wishes he could say something, wishes he could make louis feel better, make this apple he doesn't know forget about his problems and worries.
behind him, zayn mumbles at him to go to sleep and after one more look over towards the tree across the lane, harry lets himself fall blissfully into dreams.
they’re picked all at the same time. it makes sense, really, when harry thinks about all the things they've been through together.
(not together, though- harry has to remind himself that he doesn’t actually know these apples, has to remember that just because he grew up with them by no means makes them close.)
i’m harry. he says softly, rolling around uncomfortably in the wicker basket. closest to his right, the apple he already knows is liam introduces himself.
i know, harry says when liam says they lived in the apple across the lane. i mean. we’re around the same age, i think. i’ve always remembered you guys.
suddenly, the apple to liam’s right speaks.
i’ve always remembered you, too. he says quietly, still turned away from harry. i’m louis.
harry bites back an ‘i know’ and instead focuses all his attention on louis. i’m harry. he says. and i’m sorry.
louis turns towards him, finally, and harry feels the heat of his focus. me too. louis says quietly. me too.
the drive is long, harry thinks, though his idea of time has always been a bit fishy.
he learns the names of the others, because really, if this is their fate and they're meant to spend it together, why not spend it together in happiness- or at least as close to happiness as they can get.
liam and zayn click right off the bat, which harry isn't surprised at, really. they're sort of the same, from what he can tell, and from what he already knows.
zayn is quiet, although a little dark sometimes, but so protective it takes harry by surprise, even after growing up with it.
liam is soft, gentle, and from the way he stays close to louis and the way harry's heard them talk in the summer evenings, he knows protective is the right word for liam as well.
niall fits in with everyone, but once again, that doesn't surprise harry. niall gets along with everyone, so good and so loving that it's almost unfair.
then again, quite a bit's unfair with their situation, now.
harry and louis fall into each other in a way harry doesn't know if they would if this weren't their situation.
he daydreams a lot over what it would have been like to fall in love with louis slowly, like a person, like the two teenagers who came to the orchard every fall with their families until one day they came and kissed under harry's tree. he thinks it would have been romantic.
but that's not their case, and that's not what happens. he and louis look at each other and harry feels this burning like he knows this was meant to happen, was going to happen sooner or later, and from the way louis focuses on him, he knows he feels the same.
zayn and liam attach the same way, fast and furious like falling from a tree. harry likes to watch them, likes how zayn's dark red contrasts nicely with the yellow flecks in liam's skin. he looks at himself in the reflection of the kettle and knows he and louis look good together, too. it's not much of a consolation when tomorrow could be their last.
louis falls asleep at his side and harry tries not to think about any more tomorrows.
louis finds his first brown spot before harry’s even had time to accept that this is their fate.
does it hurt? he asks softly, nudging it. louis winces, but tries to cover it up.
not at all. he says with a brave face, and harry wants to stay as close to louis as he possibly can until the end of forever.
niall keeps them all sane, for a while.
the temperature in the house fluctuates with the sunlight outside, he’s realized, and they place bets on how hot it will be inside the house by how much the leaves on the houseplant by the window wilts that day.
niall is the glue that holds them all together, really. harry doesn’t need reminding, niall’s always held him and zayn together when they were fighting with each other, why should it work any differently when they’re fighting for their lives?
he keeps them laughing for as long as they can, and harry wants the best for niall, wishes there was someone there for niall the way zayn's there for liam and he's there for louis. he wishes niall would find someone, even if he knows that it will never happen, not with the wax drying on the seal to their fate.
you sound poetic when you say it like that louis teases softly in the light from the coffeemaker in the early morning. and i can't tell if it's endearing or stupid.
stupid. harry says, nestling into louis' side, because it's the only place he feels safe, now. definitely stupid.
zayn is the first to go.
he’s picked up from the counter in an unceremonious way, in the middle of a soft discussion with liam, by the grimy handed ten year old that lives in the house.
liam cries for a week-
until he’s eaten on a tuesday, that is.
nial doesn’t get eaten, and harry still can’t figure out if it’s an honorable way to go or a loss of a full life.
he’s picked up, and the woman in the house, and when she sees the brown spots, sees the cuts and bruises and bangs and piercings just deep enough to reach under his skin, and she tosses him.
there’s a long moment of painfully silent air, static noise in the electrons around them, until louis and harry hear a deafening thump, the slam of a trash bin lid, and the click of the woman’s heels as she huffs away.
neither of them say anything all night.
there’s nothing left to say, really.
in the end, they go together, which is awfully tragic, but unexpectedly dull.
pies, harry learn, take a long while to make, and even after he's been hurt and cut up and pinched and skinned, he can still feel louis, mixed in with him, a part of him, and he wants to cry out because it's so beautiful and so horrible and not fair.
at least we're together. louis says, because louis says the things harry thinks, and harry feels the way louis does.
i love you, you know. harry has the energy to say before the crust is sliding over them and everything is dark.
right before the heat becomes overwhelming, harry thinks he hears louis say it back.