and now how could i let things get this out of hand part 4a/4b
Title: and now how could i let things get this out of hand
Part: 4a/4b
Pairing: Harry/Louis, Louis/Eleanor
Word Count: 8,565
Rating: PG
Warnings: mentions of sex, mild cursing
Disclaimer: bla bla bla fictional (though i wish it were true-- the lourry part, i mean) i don't own one direction or eleanor (i wouldn't want to own her anyway, sorry, offensive disclaimer)
A/N: first off, i'm so sorry this took a really long time (more than a month is inexcusable) but thank you for bearing with me :) the thing is, this was supposed to be the end up livejournal said my post was too big so there we go: 4a and 4b. also, now, let's see, these final chapters are really long because it spans over a long period of time, so, there. also, idk if you're the type but i skimmed the previous chapters just to get into the mood for this hahaha. part 4b to follow!
Summary: "“You know that’s a lie.” He did know. It was a lie and it was a big lie and it was probably the most painful lie he’d ever tell Harry." It used to be just that: pretend. But then something changed and Harry knew. Harry always knew. He just never talked about it. Until now.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
It’s harder than he expects-this whole giving-Harry-space thing. But Harry is fragile and Louis doesn’t want to break him (more than he already has) so he waits (albeit sulkily) for him. Louis is fragile, too- always, when it comes to matters dealing with Harry- but Niall constantly reminds him that he’s got to be strong. Louis still thinks he can’t do it but, finally, the honesty and innocence in his little leprechaun’s eyes are enough to spark a flare of hope within him.
Louis hasn’t seen Harry in a week and he goes crazy, holed up in his own flat with Liam and Niall. He hasn’t seen Zayn either because, somehow, there had been a sort of trade-off-Louis got the two, Harry got Zayn-and the Bradford boy spends the whole day holed up with Harry as well.
Harry’s absence is a throbbing consciousness that comes alive in everything. Louis goes to sleep in an empty bed (or even if Niall and Liam are there) and it screams Harry. Louis wakes up and stumbles into an empty kitchen and it screams Harry. Empty couch, no singing in the shower, no one beside him while he watches the telly-everything in his absence screams Harry and it drives Louis crazy.
One time, he had called to Niall- who was on his way to the kitchen- to go make him a cuppa. Niall had turned to look at him nervously and Louis froze, their eyes meeting.
“You called me-“
“I called you Harry.”
That night, Louis had cried himself to sleep and Niall had waited outside Harry’s bedroom door, afraid that his presence might only make things worse.
It was also so very quiet. Everywhere. Even when Louis wasn’t alone in the flat, they all just floated around each other, eating meals, watching the telly, curling up on the sofa and Louis tried to remember the last time he had a good laugh with the lads. But it hurts to remember that laughing, carefree Harry so Louis doesn’t dwell on it for long. Instead he curls up on Harry’s bed and waits.
Waits, waits, waits for Harry-imagines scenarios that have him coming home, wrapping his long arms around Louis and (never soon enough), that’s how Louis falls asleep-with a heavy heart.
Louis missed Harry and everyone knew it. Liam and Niall had never told him (they weren’t sure if he knew) but on some nights, he would mumble Harry’s name in his sleep. It was never a hysterical shout or a writhing nightmare-it was worse, to be honest. Louis would just shift around a few times and then whimper Harry’s name like he was calling out to him or pleading with him and then he would curl into himself as a few tears would trail down his cheeks.
Though it didn't happen every night, it was something the both of them could never forget.
The mornings after those nights were the ones where Louis would wake up with the two boys’ arms around him.
Liam was so tired of seeing tear tracks on Louis’ cheeks, of seeing the eldest boy- all wrapped up in one of Harry’s old jumpers-on Niall’s lap, having cried himself to sleep again, of watching him do a double take every time he’d come across anything that reminded him of Harry. He thinks he may not be able to take another second of seeing his best mate so empty and so broken. When the suggestion came about a week earlier, Liam had declined it and didn’t tell any of the boys about it. He knew it was too early and the separation was still fresh and painful. But, now, a week later, Liam thinks it’s time to give it a try. It’s with Louis in mind (he thinks of how much Louis misses Harry, wants to see Harry, wants to be with Harry) that he calls up management, agrees to the event , and prays to God for the best.
“We have a signing!”
“As in-“ Louis pauses, hesitant, “all of us?”
“Yeah. Actually I’ve talked to Zayn-“ Liam starts and Louis frowns at the gesture. Asking permission for the band to be together is something they definitely shouldn’t have to do, “-and he says Harry’s up for it.” Louis blinks, confused.
“Harry’s up for it?” He repeats slowly, “He’s okay?”
“Well,” Liam begins cautiously, “He says we’ll find a way to make the signing work and actually, there might be an interview too. I was just thinking since it’s been a week... but, if you don’t want-”
“Yes, let’s do it,” Louis replies-all too eagerly- because yes it’s been a week and he misses Harry and he’s sure Niall and Liam want to do this (if their identical grins and sighs of relief are any indication) and Louis thinks (well, he hopes) that it won’t be that bad. After all, at the end of the day, he’d get to see Harry.
But on Monday, when he’s fussing around the flat, tossing clothes in various directions while Niall laughs at him for being too worked up on his attire, Louis thinks this is not going to end well.
“Everything’s going to be good, mate!” Niall chuckles, handing him a blue jumper, “He likes you in blue.”
“Yeah, but this is his.”
“Well, Lou, what part of you isn’t?” The blonde boy retorts, grinning at him and for the first time in a week, Louis actually smiles back as he pulls the jumper over his head. Liam comes in just then and freezes at the door and stares at him.
“Don’t look so surprised, Li. I know it’s not much and he looks terrible but that’s definitely sort of a smile!” Niall jokes before turning to Louis and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “You should do it more often, mate. We’ve missed it.” Louis looks up at them, feels his heart burst in his chest because,
“I get to see Harry today.” And he smiles again, softly to himself, because even if he’s secretly afraid that today’s going to end up in a mess, he needs to see Harry again and he thinks that maybe-just maybe-things will get better.
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Harry doesn’t know what came over him when he had told Zayn to tell Liam to tell Louis (it was all very kindergarten-ish and Harry didn’t like it much) that he would be okay with the signing. Now, as he’s all bundled up in a thick scarf and a thick coat, sitting in the back seat of the van, waiting for the other three-fifths of the band to arrive, he thinks this is not going to end well. Pulling the hood of his jacket up, he retreats further into his seat and Zayn laughs quietly beside him.
“Harreh,” he grins, “You look like one of Liam’s turtles.”
“Not funny, Zayn.” He huffs, crossing his arms, “Why did you make me do this again?”
“I did not.”
“Did to!”
“Did not!”
“Did to-“
“Shhh, they’re coming,” Zayn shoves at his shoulder and Harry sits up obediently, “Jesus Christ, I’ve missed them. Haven’t seen them in ages.”
“What? You haven’t seen them either?”
“Well-they’ve been with Lou, I’ve been with you-we’ve been busy! Now-shhh, here they come, look!” Zayn gestures towards the van’s open door and Harry takes a deep breath before glancing up.
Christ, he shouldn’t have done this. He shouldn’t have done this stupid signing. Christ. He ducks down again and leans his forehead on the seat in front of him.
“Can’t do this,” He whispers and Zayn reaches over and wraps an arm around him, “Can’t. Too soon.”
“Harry, it’s been a week,” Zayn whispers back, “I know you need this.” And Zayn did know. He knew exactly how much Harry needed this-needed Louis again, needed to be around the lads again.
For the past week, Harry had locked himself in his room but on the rare occasions that Zayn would enter, he’d find Harry sitting curled up into a ball on the bed, staring helplessly at nothing but still trying his best to fake a smile when Zayn would greet him (it was never real enough though and Zayn missed the smile crinkles Harry’d get at the corner of his eyes). If Harry did cry himself to sleep, he was very careful not to let anyone hear because even with his ear pressed up against the bedroom door, Zayn could never hear a thing. But the next morning, when he’d bring in breakfast, Harry’s eyes would be swollen and red and his cheeks would be stained with tears.
“You’re going to have to face him some time.” Zayn whispers.
On the count of three, you look, one, two, three, Harry counts silently before lifting his head and watching the three boys walking towards the van. Christ, he couldn’t do this. He groans loudly before letting his head drop into his palms, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“Can’t, Zayn, can’t,” He moans, because it hurts, because he’s still broken, because-“Fucking twat looks so good right now, it’s not making anything easier. I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.” He begs, groaning once more.
“Let’s start with getting up, alright?” Zayn takes him by the shoulders and gently pushes him back. He mumbles more about how Harry shouldn’t try to avoid Louis, something about how Harry’s strong and he’ll know what to do. Harry groans and sinks deeper into the chair again and Zayn places a hand on his knee for comfort.
“I’m not ready.” He whispers, squeezing Zayn’s hand tightly.
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As Louis nears the van, he’s unsure, he’s panicking, he’s thinking oh god oh god oh god jesus fucking Christ, it’s Harry. He’s thinking I want you home, I want you back, I need you with me. He’s praying just a smile, god, just a smile, let him smile at me because he knows that if Harry smiles and Louis smiles back, then they’d be on the right track and it will be the start of a good day.
But life is never that fair and he doesn’t see that smile. Instead he finds Harry leaning on Zayn’s shoulder, face buried in their thick coats and scarves, sees Zayn’s hand on Harry’s knee (it hurts him more than it should because it’s unfair that he can’t even see Harry yet Zayn can reach out and touch him), hears Harry mumbling (he can’t make it out clearly but he thinks he hears, “wanna go home,” and he cringes because home for Harry is not the flat he shares with Louis) and he settles himself in between Niall and Liam before gripping tightly at the edge of his coat thinking that he was right, today was not going to end well.
Harry didn’t know what the worst part of the entire signing was. As soon as the van stopped at the mall, Louis was striding out of the van, closely followed by Niall and Liam who hadn’t even given him a second glance. It was tense ride over and nobody really spoke to anyone. He could tell that it had hurt Zayn because he’d been really excited to see them all together again. In the end, they both sat frozen in the van, watching the three others walk away until Paul had to come call them out.
Upon entering the venue, Harry found that Louis had already sat himself in between Niall and Liam. Trudging towards them, he took the seat on the very end of the table. There was a heartbreaking moment when Louis stood to remove his coat and Harry realised that he was wearing one of his own favourite jumpers. Louis had paused for a moment, looked down at his top and glanced at Harry until Niall had placed his hand on Louis’ arm and the eldest boy shook his head and sat back down. Harry tries very hard to avoid glancing at Louis after that (but the familiar blue in his peripheral vision remains distracting and tugs at his heart).
Harry doesn’t know how he even made it through the signing. It was hard enough on its own having to smile and laugh and interact with the fans but almost nothing was as hard as having to hear her name being tossed around excitingly around him.
“Louis, how’s Eleanor?”
“Louis! You and Eleanor are so cute!”
“Louis, here, I got this for Eleanor!”
“Louis, where’s Eleanor? Do you miss her?”
Harry thinks the only thing as painful was having to hear Louis-two seats down from him-replying to the fans’ questions about her.
“She’s alright!”
“Thanks, babe.”
“I’ll pass it along, babe.”
“Yeah, she’s busy, sorry!”
And every time it would happen, Harry would cringe (sometimes a fan would ask if he was alright) and Zayn would lightly nudge him with his elbow or softly squeeze his hand. Once, the girl standing in front of them squealed and shouted, “you two are so cute!” which had Zayn laughing and Harry side-glancing at Louis-but the eldest boy did nothing but pointedly turn away from them. Harry had only felt heavier after that.
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Louis wasn’t paying attention to the interview that much. After all, there wasn’t a studio audience and the interview wasn’t live. A few glances in Harry’s direction, a few sighs, his fingers curling and uncurling on his lap could easily be edited out. Louis lifted his eyes once again, only to find Harry staring right back at him. Of course Harry and Louis both opted to take the seats on the opposite ends. Of course they hadn’t realised that the couch was a semi-circle. Of course now they’d have to sit somewhat facing each other. Of course this was painful.
“Louis-?” He felt Liam nudge him (painfully, he might add) in the ribs.
“Hm?” Louis hummed, facing the interviewer, “What was that? I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t hear you over the loud cheers from the audience!” He joked weakly, gesturing towards the empty stands and the crewmen. Niall barked out in laughter and Louis made a mental note to thank him later.
“I was just about to ask you the juicy question!” Oh no, please no, not now-“How’s the lovely Eleanor?” Louis felt the whole room go cold, heard Niall’s little sharp intake of breath, saw Harry’s eyes cringe at the mention of her name, noticed Zayn’s hand on the youngest boy’s knee again.
“She’s-“ he stuttered and Liam turned to look at him, silently warning Louis to be careful, “She’s, uh-she’s fine.” He finished lamely, clearing his throat once, hoping that the interview would just move on from there. But no.
“Still going strong then?” She chirped, happy as bee, and Louis could have killed her right there. He stayed silent for a beat too long and she repeated the question, prompting him with an annoying little, “Louis, dear?”
Louis tried to catch Harry’s eye because he wanted to apologize for this, for her, for what he had to do next. But Harry was rubbing at his eyes and subtly curling into Zayn and Louis had no choice. He sighed before answering softly, “Steady.”
The interviewer laughed lightly and congratulated him and Liam on their long-running relationships but Louis paid her no mind. Instead, he watched Harry, willing him to look up and meet Louis’ gaze. Louis wanted to convey so many things, I’m sorry, She’s nothing, I love you, Forget her, I’m sorry and he was sure that he could do it with one look-all Harry had to do was look up.
“So, who’s single?” Harry’s hand shot up so fast, Zayn had jumped a little in his seat. Even the interviewer seemed to be surprised as she clutched at her chest and giggled at Harry, “Harry! A bit excited are we? Happily single, then?” She asked and Louis thinks he’s the only one who noticed Harry’s grin falter for a moment, was the only who noticed Harry’s gaze flicker for a split-second to him.
“Happily single,” Harry murmured, voice low and mocking. Heart clenching, Louis felt all the compassion in his eyes melt away.
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The moment the interview ends, Harry gets up and begs Paul to let him take a cab home now. He begs and begs and begs and at one point, out of frustration, bangs his fist against the wall and Zayn rushes over to nurse it. It isn’t anything serious but Paul scowls at Harry for the rest of the afternoon.
Louis isn’t surprised when Paul comes up to him a few minutes later and asks him to talk to Harry. He says that something’s wrong and Harry’s bothered. The eldest boy shakes his head and tells Paul that he’s pretty sure Harry doesn’t want to talk to him right now-in fact, he’s pretty sure Harry doesn’t want to talk to him ever. Paul scolds Louis and tells him that he’s being ridiculous and that he’s sure Harry just needs him-Louis cuts him off and stops him right there because, one, Harry does not need Louis and, two, Louis doesn’t want to talk to Harry. Paul stares at him before shaking his head and calling the boys back to pick up the gifts they were given during the signings.
Harry and Zayn are the first ones to crawl into the van, taking their places at the back. Harry has quieted down since having punched the wall (and having cried to Zayn in one of the bathrooms in the back). But he pulls his hood over his head and sinks lower into the chair, Zayn’s arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders. Soon, Niall and Liam come in and Harry notices Zayn frown and duck his head when they talk only to each other, discussing in hushed voices what they’re going to make Louis for dinner. Finally, Louis comes trudging out of the venue with his box of gifts filled with ridiculous carrot-themed toys. Hanging from his arms are about 3 hand bags in bright colours.
“Hey, mate, what’s up with the purses?” jokes Niall as Louis dumps them onto the floor of the van. Louis looks up sharply, eyes narrowing at the Irish boy.
“They’re for Eleanor, okay? The girls wanted me to give them to her or something.” He replies brusquely and Liam glares at him. Niall leans back, frowning. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis notices Harry sink lower into his seat at the mention of Eleanor and he mentally punches himself for being an enormous fucking idiot once again. Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose before speaking up again, “Sorry, Nialler, it’s been a fucking long day.” He climbs into the van and takes his seat, slamming the door shut behind him.
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Arriving back home, Louis runs straight into Harry’s room and dives onto his bed. He inhales the familiar scent and shuts his eyes, hugging a pillow to his chest. Everything was a disaster and Louis thinks, now more than ever, that he’s never going to get Harry back again. His mocking little Happily Single is still ringing in Louis’ ears and he turns over and groans. How could he have been excited this morning? Hearing his name being called from downstairs, he gets off the bed, and trudges down to the sitting room. Louis’s heart skips a beat and he stops short when he sees a familiar curly-haired boy sitting on the couch.
“Harry-?” The name catches in his throat because it’s the first time he’s actually ever called him in a week and it’s dry and it’s shocked and it’s-
“Sit down, Lou.” Louis turns to find Paul stepping into the sitting room followed by the three other boys. Niall gently tugs him onto the couch and the five of them squeeze into it, all sitting quite formally, no limbs overlapping or arms lingering on each other.
“Boys,” Paul begins and they all look up to listen to him. “Alright, I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t know what’s wrong. You don’t have to tell me anything, it’s none of my business.” Harry steadily keeps his eyes trained on Paul but he notices Liam glancing nervously at him and Louis.
“But whatever it is, it’s-“ Paul shakes his head, stepping closer to them, “it’s tearing you apart. Today was-well, I’ll be honest, today was a disaster. I’ve never seen you all as wrecked as you were earlier. I don’t even think you realise just how-“ He struggles to think of the right word,” -broken you all were today.” Louis nibbles at his lower lip and glances at Harry because that’s exactly what they were-apparently, what they all were. Broken.
“You used to be inseparable and that’s what made you strong and happy and successful. Remember, you’ve only got each other in this. You were the best of mates before all of this-all of the fame-and the five of you should still be the best of mates long after all of this has ended.” He pauses, looking at each of the boys in turn.
“Whatever it is that you’re going through now, fix it like I know you can. Don’t let it come between you, alright? And don’t you give me some crap on how you’re not actually going through anything. You all know that I care for you boys as if you were my own sons and I think I’d know when my sons were in trouble.” Louis feels a rush of affection for Paul and he nearly tears up at it.
There’s silence as they stare at each other until Harry gets up and wraps his arms around Paul. Zayn follows, enveloping Harry in his own arms as he reaches for Paul as well. Niall jumps up and joins in, hugging Paul around the waist. Liam glances at Louis and smiles sadly before getting up and joining the hug. Louis feels a pang in his chest, watching the boys squeezing each other tight, hearing Harry’s soft sobs and seeing tears trailing down Niall’s cheeks. Finally, he gets up and approaches them and when he stretches his arms, he tries to envelop all four boys in his hug. He shuts his eyes as he leans his head on Liam’s shoulder and feels Paul wrap his arms around all them, patting each of their heads affectionately.
“You didn’t even say goodbye to each other when we got home earlier!” He mumbles, softly scolding them. “Remember boys, you’re all family and that’s what makes you strong. Don’t let anything ruin what the five of you have.”
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A few minutes later, after Paul jokingly tells them to all man up and stop with the hugging (that doesn’t stop him from squeezing the boys tighter one last time), they all disentangle themselves and shuffle towards the door. As he’s leaving the sitting room, he feels a warm hand on his shoulder and turns to find Harry tugging him back.
“Can I talk to you?” He murmurs and Louis has to remind himself how to speak as he stutters a simple,
“Y-yeah, sure.” As everyone else clears out, Louis finds himself face to face with Harry, alone in their flat, in the middle of their living room and he tries hard not to think of the last time the two of them were alone here.
There’s silence as Harry nervously stares at his shoes and avoids Louis’ gaze.
“Harry?” Louis prompts (and god, Harry Harry Harry, he could say it forever)
“We have to do something about this, about, well, us-the five of us. “ He adds quickly and Louis’ heart sinks. He keeps his mouth shut as he watches Harry struggle with his words.
“Lou, when we started out-you and me and well, everything-“ he gestures vaguely around the flat, “-this is the one thing we said we’d never do, remember? We said we’d never break the band apart, we’d never let it destroy the friendship.” Louis nods, listening.
“I-well, I’m not-I don’t-“ Harry stutters, troubled. He pauses and takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes and calming himself. Louis makes the mistake of stepping closer and placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. The younger boy flinches and steps away.
“Harry-“
“-I’m not ready.” He finishes, staring sadly at Louis, “With you and me, I’m not ready, I don’t know when I’ll be-“
“I know, Harry.” Louis speaks up (because, he thinks, maybe Harry doesn’t know that he loves him and needs to hear Louis support him), “I’ll wait for you.” He adds softly but he’s not sure if Harry doesn’t hear him or if he pretends not to hear him.
“But we have to be able to work. And I mean, be around each other-for Zayn and Niall and Liam. We should be able to be together-the five of us.” Louis’ heart clenches painfully again, “We shouldn’t hide out anymore, right? You and me? I mean, Paul was right, we were friends before all of this. We’re... friends.” Harry ends quietly and Louis takes a shaky breath. He thinks of how he doesn’t want to be just a friend, he thinks of how he’s sure they had never been just friends (they were always leaning towards something more) but he notices how broken Harry’s eyes are and he realises Harry needs a family again. So he pushes those thoughts aside and says,
“Yeah, the best of.”
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The weeks that follow are better and then, somehow, worse for Louis.
Better because they’re all together again, the five of them. Louis is reminded of just how much he’s missed the idiotic things that Niall could come up with, he’s missed Zayn’s vague comments that always made all of them laugh, he’s missed Liam scolding them for being a tad bit too rowdy, but most of all, he’s missed seeing Harry smile.
It’s the only thing Louis does nowadays. He watches Harry smile, (not as radiant as before but still) all toothy and eye crinkles and even (sometimes, on those rare occasions) full of whiskers. And though it may sound extremely cheesy (he had shared it once with Niall and the blonde boy had burst into laughter and mocked him the entire day), it’s during moments like those that Louis really feels that there’s hope for forgiveness and friendship and love. But those moments are usually short-lived because whenever Harry would catch him watching, his smile would falter, losing all the toothy, crinkle, whiskery goodness and instead, Louis would get a formal smile and a curt nod and that’s when he’d be reminded that right now, Louis still doesn’t have the forgiveness or the friendship or the love.
Because, though they’ve been spending almost every day in the same room (usually Zayn’s living room), Louis and Harry still weren’t quite alright. They were civil, yes, talking only when spoken to, smiling curtly when expected but they lacked the closeness that they both secretly yearned for (Harry still too hurt to give in to it, Louis still too ashamed to ask for it).
Even so, both boys found happiness in their other three crazy best mates and they found that days could go by spent in the comfortable, cheerful company of each other.
It was about a week and a half into their new arrangement when it happened. Louis had stumbled into the kitchen to make himself some coffee (it was late into the night and Niall had insisted on having an all-nighter movie marathon) when he found Harry already seated at the table, nursing a cup of steaming hot chocolate in his hands. Louis had half-turned back to the living room, reluctant if he should just leave or-
“Hey, Lou, you want one too?” Louis turned back to find that Harry had stood up and was already pouring a second cup for him.
“Yeah,” Louis stuttered, taking the seat across Harry, “Yeah, thanks.” He smiled as Harry slid the cup towards him. For a moment, they both sat there quietly sipping their own cups of hot chocolate and Louis vaguely thought of how hot chocolate was not going to help him stay up.
“God, I miss your hot chocolate.” Louis had sighed, shutting his eyes as he took another sip of the delicious warm drink. Feeling a warm weight settle on his hand, his eyes flew open to find Harry leaning across the table, hand covering his on the countertop.
“I miss you too.” He had whispered, smiling sadly. Harry squeezed his hand briefly and gave it a soft pat before getting up and leaving the room. Staring at his hand resting on the table, Louis concentrated on the warm feeling of having Harry’s hand over his again and that-more than anything- gave him hope again. The gentle squeeze of Harry’s hand reminded him of why they were there in the first place, of how they have an entire story behind them and how Louis wanted there to be an even grander ending to it.
So, that’s when Louis had resolved to start trying again. The next morning, when they were all sleepily shuffling out of Zayn’s flat, Louis had turned to Harry and had asked him.
“Are you coming home?” That very first time, Harry had smiled and that was enough to convince him to keep asking. Even if, a second later, Harry had shook his head, Louis still grinned at him and said, “See you later, then,” because he knew one of these days Harry’s answer would be yes and Louis’ heart would explode.
Every day after that, Louis would ask Harry to come home with him-it was never rude or demanding, always gentle and hopeful. Though Harry would always just shake his head quietly, Louis was never unfazed. He’d just smile, greet him a good night and then try again the next day.
Though Zayn never told anyone, that was his favourite part of the day. Because as soon as the door would close behind Louis, Harry would turn to him with the sweetest smile on his face, all innocent and carefree and full of a love long lost and Zayn would grin back and ruffle his hair affectionately. Those were the times when Zayn was reminded so much of the 16-year old Harry that they had all learned to love (and he’d take that happy 16-year old any day to the burdened 19-year old who sometimes still cried himself to sleep).
Louis was happy (to an extent-he still felt empty at night when he’d go to sleep alone in Harry’s bed). Harry was happy (to an extent-sometimes, Harry would look over at Louis and realise that so much has changed between them and the thought would destroy him). But all in all, things were getting better.
But then, for Louis, things suddenly began going downhill.
It had started with a simple photograph of Harry dressed in only his boxers, leaning out of Zayn’s front door to get the paper. The gossip columns had gone crazy and had, of course, spun a million stories with titles filled with the words “Bromance,” and “Zarry,” and oh, how it had hit Louis.
At first, it wasn’t that big a deal. Louis just didn’t like the idea of “Zarry” going into overdrive. And then, when Harry was photographed leaving Zayn’s apartment to go to the store, the rumours spread that Harry was moving out of his and Louis’ flat to move in with Zayn. Of course, that had hit Louis more because god, he wished he could just laugh at how wrong they were but. No.
They had gone to a couple more signings, some small-scale, private events and even there, Louis couldn’t escape it. Because Harry always chose to sit next to Zayn, all the fans would be squealing with excited shouts of how Zarry was forever or how Zarry was the sweetest or how Zarry should get married and every single time, Louis would groan quietly and roll his eyes.
Finally, to top it all off, they had done an interview with Alan Carr and honestly, Louis had always loved him. Alan had always been very, very supportive of the band. But right now, given their current topic, Louis couldn’t help but glare as everyone around him erupted into raucous laughter.
“So, what is it, boys? Tell us! Are you two, ah, what do they say- ‘shacking up’?” He bats his eyelashes at Zayn and Harry, leaning forward to get all the juicy details.
“No, actually I still-“ Harry begins but Alan cuts him off and squeals,
“So, you’re just going over for the sex then?” And the entire audience bursts into laughter once again. Zayn chokes on his drink and glances at Louis nervously, sheepishly, apologizing. Niall silently wraps an arm around his shoulders and squeezes him gently. Louis knows this part will probably be cut out but still, he doesn’t like it.
“No, okay, let’s get serious here, alright?” Alan gestures for the audience to quiet down, “Because it’s all about your bromance now, right?” Louis feels a pang in his chest because hadn’t he said the exact same thing to him and Harry about a year ago?
“Yeah-no,” Zayn stutters, “We’re all as close as can be, you all know that-“
“But you’ve been spending a lot of time with each other lately?” Alan pushes on.
“Yeah, I’ve been sleeping over. It’s quite fun. Zayn’s got a massive TV. We play video games and watch movies all the time and he’s been helping me a lot lately-“
“With all the amazing sex?” Alan cuts in once again and there are soft chuckles rippling through the audience, “-no, okay, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. I’ll be good now, I swear.”
“You better be.” Louis mutters, unable to stop himself. Luckily, Alan doesn’t hear him-but Harry and Zayn do. Harry turns to him and raises his eyebrow questioningly, frowning before Alan snaps his fingers to get his attention once more.
“Harry, dear, you do love Zayn, though, am I right?” Harry wraps an arm around Zayn’s shoulders and grins.
“Yeah, ‘course I love Zayn!”
“Awww, Harreh!” Zayn coos and ruffles the younger boy’s hair.
“Well, aw, there we have it, ladies and gentlemen-Zarry at its best.”
The crowds erupts into quiet awws and soft laughter and no one notices Louis shut his eyes as he looks away. No one except Harry.
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Jay opens the front door to find her eldest standing on the threshold. Shoulders hunched, shaking in quiet sobs, he looks up at her.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, mum.” He whispers brokenly and he’s falling forward into her arms and Jay holds him close to her heart.
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The entire week that follows is the worst for Louis.
That entire week, he sulks. He knows it’s immature and it’s stubborn and he really has no reason to get all worked up over it-but still.
Zarry was a lot of things to Louis.
It was a mockery of how he and Harry used to be. It reminded him of how they used to be big, used to be important, used to be real. It reminded him of those days, early on in their relationship, when they had been messy and so painfully obvious and all over the place that it wasn’t so hard to see right through them. It ridiculed him and brought back memories of how happy and exhilarating it used to feel to hear people constantly teasing him about Harry because, god, they couldn’t have been more right-Louis was happily in love with his best mate.
Louis couldn’t stand hearing about the Zarry hype because it was the constant, lingering, reminder of the fact that Louis didn’t have Harry. Louis wanted to be able to think fuck this Zarry, Harry’s mine but he couldn’t. Louis couldn’t touch him, couldn’t wrap his arms around him, couldn’t kiss him, couldn’t lose himself in the younger boy and he was-let’s be honest. He was so completely jealous that Zayn could so easily do it, that Zayn could so easily reach over and bring Harry to him, could so easily curl up on him, could so easily have Harry. In a way, Louis thinks that now he’s insecure. You see, Louis had lost Harry and his life was falling apart.
...But the world didn’t care because the only thing that mattered now was all the Zarry.
And so that’s why, the entire week, Louis doesn’t ask Harry to come home with him.
And everything begins to fall apart again.
Liam, Niall and Zayn have noticed. The first time Louis doesn’t ask, they all think that maybe he just forgot. Harry frowns as the door slams shut behind Louis (he’s secretly waiting for Louis to come barging back in) but later on, long after Niall and Liam had left, the youngest boy walks up to Zayn and quietly murmurs,
“He didn’t ask me today.”
Zayn wraps his arms around him and whispers a comforting, “He will tomorrow,” and Harry believes him and goes to bed.
The next day though, Louis still doesn’t ask-and the day after that, and the next, and the next and god, it’s been a week Harry thinks as Louis gets up to leave. He’s staring, watching him move around the living room, collecting his jacket, his keys, and Harry’s just waiting, still hoping, even when Louis reaches for the door and turns to nod at all of them.
“See ya, boys,” is all he says before he’s disappearing through the door. And Harry gets up, ignoring the stares of the three other boys and silently stumbles to his room-not quick enough to hide the tears that he thought had long left (he hated that they seemed to come a lot this past week, he was doing so well before).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry just wants to forget. He doesn’t understand why everything that hurt didn’t go away. He doesn’t understand why the pain always comes back. Harry just wants to forget.
That’s why, on Saturday night, Harry finds himself and Zayn at the nearest bar, the blaring music soothing Harry into a hyper, careless state. In the next half-hour, Harry’s already had more drinks that he can count and he’s feeling light-headed and dizzy and he’s been dancing by himself in a throng of sweaty people, waving his arms around and accidentally hitting the people around him. He shuts his eyes and turns in full circle, nodding his head to the beat of the music (he thinks it’s screaming Harry Harry Harry Harry in his head) and he sings along, his words slurred and too slow.
“ZAYN!” He suddenly screams, opening his eyes and searching for the Bradford boy, “Zayn, where are you?” He calls, pushing people aside roughly and making his way through the crowd grinding up against him. He’s panicking because maybe Zayn’s left him and he didn’t want Zayn to leave, no, no, no, he wanted Zayn to stay and have fun with him! He calls Zayn’s name again but it’s lost in the chorus of the song blaring through the speakers.
“Hello! Have you seen Zayn?!” He grabs a passing girl by the shoulders and shakes her, “Do you know Zayn?” She stares at him for a moment before squealing,
“Oh, god, you’re Harry Styles!” Harry nods his head quickly-“Ow!” He shouts, releasing his grip on the girl to clutch at his head, “Ow, no! No, no, no, no more shaking head! Where’s Zayn? Do you know Zayn?” He asks again, still cringing from the throbbing in his head.
“Yeah, ‘course I do! He’s near the booths-“ She laughs, gesturing vaguely behind her, “-with Louis!” She smiles and Harry freezes.
“With who?”
“Louis!”
Harry doesn’t understand why the pain always comes back. Harry just wants to forget.
He figures that maybe a few more drinks and he won’t even remember his own name.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Harry-Harry! For fuck’s sake, get off her!” Louis drags Harry off of the girl he’s got pinned to the wall. Harry protests but only weakly, stumbling over his own feet and falling onto Louis. He’s sweaty and smells of alcohol and his shirt’s unbuttoned and he’s got red marks all over his torso-nail markings, hickeys-Louis tries not to stare at them.
“What the fuck?” The girl shouts at him.
“We’re going home,” Louis mutters, throwing one of Harry’s arms around his neck and securing him to his side.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Let go-No-Go back, I wanna go back-“ Louis tries to push the resisting, slurring Harry into his room. He got him this far (though it was admittedly easier when he was carrying a passed out Harry in his arms) and there was no way he was letting him go back there. Louis struggles to keep his hold on Harry, to push him back into the room and, at the same time, to keep him from falling over.
“Don’t be stupid, Harry,” he mutters, grunting as Harry continues to get past him.
“No! Got a girl-Don’ be a prick, Louis-got a girl-“
“Leave her,” Louis commands firmly and he tries not to glance at the red marks on Harry’s neck and chest (Oh god, they made his stomach turn), instead he tries even harder to drag the younger boy into the room without the both of them falling over, “Forget about her.”
“No!” Harry retorts, shouting straight into Louis face, “Shut up! Want her-“
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Louis roars at him, releasing his hold on Harry. The younger boy falls to his knees with a muffled thud resounding on the carpeted floor. Louis drops to his knees beside him and brings his face right up to Harry’s. “Would you rather have gone home with her-“
“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Harry screams, covering his ears with both hands.
“Do you want me to bring you back there so you can fuck a girl who’s probably as pissed as you are and won’t remember who the fuck you are in the morning? Is that what you want, Harry?!”
“Fuck you!”
“You know what, I just wanted to take care of you! To make sure you didn’t do anything stupid! But since you obviously really want to go back-“ Louis grasps Harry’s wrists and tries to pull him up, “-maybe I’ll bring you back to her-“
“Just wanted you to feel what I feel!” Harry suddenly roars, shoving at Louis’ chest roughly, knocking him down. The older boy falls back, staring in shock, “Wanted you to hurt like I did!” Voice breaking mid-sentence, Harry crawls away from Louis and rests his head against the cool panel of the wall, “Wanted to forget-to make you hurt ‘cause it hurt, Louis, it hurt so much-” Harry sobs messily, burying his face in his hands. Louis lifts a hand and reaches for Harry-he hesitates- should he-
“I couldn’t do it,” Harry whispers and Louis pulls his hand back sharply as the younger boy lifts his head to stare at him, “Just couldn’t-kept thinking of you-made me think, how could you? How could you do it? I couldn’t do it... but you could.” Harry’s voice thins out, whispering questions he’s afraid to know the answers to. Louis crawls forward and gently pries Harry’s hands away from his face. He wraps an arm around the younger boys’ shoulders and pulls him to his chest, guiding Harry’s head to rest over his heart.
“Shhh, shhh,” Now, more than ever, Louis’ heart chants Harry Harry Harry and he holds the younger boy tighter to his chest in the hope that maybe-just maybe-he would hear it- hear his heart beating, hear his heart’s own anthem, hear the only reason his heart beats.
“How could you?” Harry sobs, tears soaking the front of Louis shirt.
“I was a fucking idiot, Harry,” Louis mumbles, breath hitching as he listens to Harry’s broken sobs, “I didn’t think-at all. I didn’t-I couldn’t-I don’t- I honestly don’t know how I could do that to you and I-” Louis’ voice cracks and he buries his face in Harry’s curls, “I won’t be surprised if I lose you over this, if you never forgive me.” There it is, out in the open. He’s been thinking about it a lot recently and saying it out loud didn’t seem to make anything better. Instead, Louis’ heart feels heavier and he wants to-he just wants-He’s so sorry. Louis takes a deep breath, softly grazing his lips across Harry’s forehead and oh, god Louis had forgotten how Harry’s skin tasted like everything beautiful in the world, “I don’t deserve you, Haz.” Harry’s grip on Louis’ arm tightens at the mention of his nickname (He hasn’t heard Louis say it in such a long time and now it’s reminded him of how easy things used to be between them).
“I just-I want you to know that if you choose never to forgive me again-“ Louis brings his face closer to Harry’s, noses softly nudging, breaths mingling, both pairs of eyes slip shut, “-I’ll still always be yours. I’ll always love you and I will always be eternally sorry for everything.”
Louis wants to lean forward, to press their lips together, to drown in the taste of alcohol, of Harry and to erase all traces of whoever else may have lingered there tonight. He wants to remind Harry (and himself) that no other pair of lips will ever fit as perfect as theirs do.
But he doesn’t. Instead he leans back and presses a kiss to Harry’s temple (Louis doesn’t notice Harry lean forward right before he moved away, doesn’t see Harry’s face crumple in disappointment). They stay that way for a minute: Louis gently rocking the younger boy in his arms, breath hot on Harry’s forehead, lips grazing his temple, arms around each other, Harry’s head leaning on Louis’ chest, sobs quieting down until it’s only the sound of their synchronized calm breaths left.
“You probably won’t even remember this tomorrow,” Louis chuckles shortly, shaking his head.
“I’ll try.” Harry whispers tiredly, sleep slowly beginning to overcome him. Louis smiles as the younger boy yawns and shuts his eyes.
“Will you stay tonight?” There’s a pointed pause before,
“You stopped asking me,” Harry accuses him softly, eyes still shut, frowning slightly.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I was,” Louis shakes his head, realising how ridiculous he’s been acting, “These past few weeks have been torture and painful and I just miss you so much and it hurts with you and Zayn and I know I don’t have the right to complain because you’ve been through so much worse and well, I didn’t like-Zayn-you-Zarry-”
“It’ll always only be you, Lou.” Harry whispers so softly that Louis isn’t sure he heard right. He turns his head slightly and presses a kiss to Louis’ collarbone, “Always only you,” He repeats, whispering into Louis skin, straight to his heart.
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The next morning, Harry wakes up buried in the familiar pillows and blankets of his own bed, he feels the comforting mattress beneath him. He has only a confused split-second to think that something about his bed is different before he’s bolting out of it and into the bathroom, collapsing on the tiled floor as he heaves last night’s alcohol into the toilet bowl.
As he crawls (yes, literally crawls) into the living room, moaning and groaning as he makes his way to the couch, Louis makes a vague comment on how he’s glad he’s not Harry. Nevertheless, Harry feels gentle arms around his torso as Louis helps him onto the couch. Louis disappears into the kitchen for a minute, reappearing with a glass of water in his hand. As Harry takes a sip, Louis grabs one of the spare blankets hanging off the back of their couch and throws it over him.
“Do you remember anything from last night, Harry?” Louis asks and Harry can feel the hesitation and the nervousness in his voice.
“I remember being at the club with Zayn and then you were there and you told me to go home but I didn’t want to and then-“ Harry stops, glancing at Louis. And then would you rather have gone home with her and just wanted you to feel what I feel. And then I couldn’t do it and how could you. And then I won’t be surprised if I lose you over this and I’ll always love you and I miss you so much it hurts. And it was warm arms around Harry and the scent of Louis surrounding him. It was the feel of Louis’ hot breath on his lips and the ghost of kisses on his forehead. And then, in the end, it was it’ll always only be you, Lou. “-and then I woke up this morning.”
“You don’t-“ Louis pauses, shaking his head, “Nevermind.”
“Lou?”
“Hm?” Louis turns to him absently, fiddling with the fabric of his jumper.
“Can I stay?” Louis freezes, Harry takes a deep breath, waiting (Come on, Lou, please), worrying (What if he doesn’t want me anymore), hoping (Harry remembers last night and the lingering kisses and it gives him hope).
“Harry, you know you never need to ask. It’s your flat too-“
“Right. Our flat.” Harry repeats, lowering his eyes to the floor, “Listen, about that, Lou. I’m sorry I’ve been a prick and that I haven’t been staying-“ Louis abruptly shakes his head, raising a hand to stop him.
“No, Harry, we both needed some time and you had every right not to come home and-“
“But you kept asking and I kept saying no-“
“I would still keep asking-“
“But I was so stubborn-”
“And I would’ve still kept on asking you, okay?” Louis cuts in, chuckling lightly. “Harry, don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter!” He grins, reaching out to put a hand on the younger boy’s knee. Louis takes it as a good start that Harry doesn’t flinch away. “Now, let’s get you settled back in.”
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Later that night, as Harry’s drifting off to sleep, buried deep in his duvet and pillows, he realises what’s different about his bed: it smells like Louis.
The last thing Harry remembers before he completely succumbs to sleep is the memory of he and Louis tangled in each other, wrapped safely in each other’s arms, duvet a cocoon around them. Louis’ breath is hot on Harry’s neck and the younger boy presses soft kisses to every inch of Louis’ skin that he can reach.
“Goodnight, Haz.”
“’Night, Lou.”
Harry wakes up to an awfully empty bed and realises that there are only so many things he can live without. And Louis isn’t one of them.
~end of part 4a~