(no subject)
Title: Breathe Me - Chapter Fifteen
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Summary: Neither Harry, nor Louis, knew what they were getting into when they boarded the Titanic that day. Nobody could have prepared them for what was about to happen to them, because nobody knew just how much their lives would change within the next few days.
AN: If anybody picks up on the intertextual quotes in this, you win a cookie.
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“They should be here.” Zayn paced, the small patch of wooden deck that he and Niall stood at appearing far more worn now than it had merely twenty-four hours ago. “They should be here.”
“Listen, Zayn, it's not -”
“You say it's not my fault and I swear to God, I'll push you overboard.” he hissed, anger making the words sound far harsher than he intended. He was angry at himself, mostly, angry at their situation second. Which, in retrospect, was an irrational and unhealthy viewpoint, but in that moment Zayn didn't care. “I was supposed to look after her, Niall. I promised Louis, I promised their mother. Dammit, I promised her that I’d be there, and now...”
“Alright, fine.” Niall ranted, taking a step closer. “So you screwed up. So you lost your girl and now our friends are inside getting her out, it is not. your. fault.” It was a testament to their relationship that Niall could do this - that he could scald and shout after only days of knowing the three, or maybe it was the adrenalin finally kicking in, but either way Zayn ducked his head, averting Niall's gaze. “You didn't drive this ship into a fucking iceberg, you can't control the traffic in the halls, and it wasn't you who made a shotty ship, so stop blaming yourself. They'll be here.”
Zayn sniffed, twitching his nose before letting out a puff of breath, looking up. “Promise?”
Niall smiled. “Or die trying.”
.
“I can't feel my toes.” Harry said, clutching Louis' hand tightly in his own. “'S' very cold; I don't remember a winter this bad, and my family and I were in Bath the year before last.”
He wasn't complaining, not really, simply stating facts in order to distract them both from the sounds of groaning metal and rushing water, the pounding of their own hearts. Louis was thankful for it.
“It was nice there - in Bath.” he continued, focusing on the heat between his palm and Louis'. “Our company were pleasant enough and mother fell in love with a man she couldn't have, a man she refused to have. Because of Father, because she's loyal to him, despite everything he does to her. But he was a nice man, Robin Twist. He's a partner of the south coaling industry... he would have treated her right. And she didn't tell a soul, you know? Not even me, but I could tell. Because they wrote to each other, long letters, even after we'd left, and while we were there, the way they looked at each other... I promised myself then that I wouldn't let myself enter an unhappy marriage.” he shakes his head softly, smiling. “Look where I was when I stepped on this ship, huh? I guess you saved me, Louis Tomlinson.”
Louis allowed himself a moment of distraction, turning and letting go of Harry's hand long enough to bring them up against the wall, water waist deep as he kissed him, lips wet and trembling. “I'll always save you.” he managed to whisper, eyes slipping shut for a moment.
Harry rested his head against the wall, breathing in shakily as his fingers curled into the hem of Louis' shirt. “Hey Lou?” Louis looked up, eyes meeting Harry's own - glossed, slightly, as though he were trying not to cry. “This is where we first met.”
His voice caught in his throat as he spoke, tongue moving out to lick his lips, tasting salt. Louis whimpered, a noise he couldn't stop from being uttered, before darting forwards to capture Harry's lips under his own once more.
“I'm getting you out of here.” he promised, nose brushing against Harry's as he shook his head. “You're going to be okay. Come on.” He pulled away, leading Harry down the corridor he now recognised, trying to remember what Niall had told him about the ship.
They were wading now, moving quickly an impossible task as the water pushed against them, forcing them to slow. Louis, a good few inches shorter than Harry, found the task harder than the other boy, but refused to let it show, gritting his teeth as he lead the way past floating pieces of furniture - lamps, mantelpiece clocks, a lone handbag.
Louis stood on something, then, an unexpected object under his right foot that caused him to slip, falling backwards, his body brushing Harry's momentarily before being submerged under water. It was a shock, he barely had enough time to cry out before he fell, the water crashing over him and it hurt. The pressure was constant against his chest, as though he were being crushed by a boulder so slowly he could feel his body breaking, the cold suffocating his lungs. He had never considered himself as small before; Louis knew he were shorter than a lot of the people he knew, but what he lacked in height he made up for in personality and strength, but there, in that moment, he felt tiny.
His back made contact with the floor, the water stretching so far above him that he felt hopeless. There was a current that he hadn't felt when standing but he could feel it now, holding him down and binding his limbs, making it impossible to rise again. He couldn't think, at least not about anything but the pain, the bite of the cold. If he could, he'd think about Lottie. He had made her a promise and he wouldn't be able to keep it. He wouldn't find her in America, couldn't keep her safe and couldn't rely on the generosity of Harry's family to do so either. The moment Denis found out who she was, she'd be turned out on the streets, and she just a child. She was sixteen years old, young, naïve and innocent, and it wasn't fair. He'd think about his mother - she'd never know what happened to him, not fully, and he'd think about Zayn and Niall; the friends he'd never see again. But most of all he'd think of Harry - the boy who smiled like he was seeing a sunset for the first time, experiencing his first Saturday lay in or smelling a rose in the middle of winter. Harry, who made Louis believe in love, who took all of his fears and inhibitions away when he let himself be held by Louis on deck those few days ago and - Harry, who's hands were encircling his arms, pulling him up and out of the water with strength Louis hadn't known he had in him.
“Lou, Louis talk to me, are you alright? Louis?” Harry worried, hands leaving Louis' body the moment he was on his feet to cup his face, wiping water away from his eyes and cheeks as Louis spluttered, shaking. “Please be okay, sweetheart, please, oh God, Lou,”
“I'm alright.” Louis croaked, throat horse. “I'm fine.”
“You're freezing” Harry shook his head, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders. He placed the material around Louis' lithe frame, and it wasn't until now he realised how thin the boy was. He found himself thinking then of how often Louis was given a hot meal, of how many dinners and suppers consisted of bread and fruits, or if he even had supper at all. Harry knew he was lucky to be born into the position he was, he knew a lot of people would think him an idiot for choosing Louis over everything he had ever known, but his heart was pounding, pumping fear through his veins as though it was blood at the thought of having nearly lost this beautiful man. “Oh God.” he repeated, pulling Louis too him in a tight embrace. “I thought I almost lost you.” he whispered against his hair, beads of water falling against his lips.
“M-me too.” Louis admitted softly, hands resting on Harry's shoulders as he allowed the brief comfort of the feel of Harry's body solid against his own. They couldn't stay like this for long, they both knew that, but they also knew that the likelihood of them making it up to the deck was lessening with each minute, the water around them steadily rising. “Come on,” Louis pulled away, taking Harry's hand once more. They couldn't let their hands fall to their sides, not now that the tides around them were so high, unless they wanted to lose feeling in their fingers due to them being submerged in the north Atlantic, and so Harry was pulled along - Louis a little in front as he searched for the stairs he knew weren't too far ahead.
By the time they reached the steps, Louis having to grip the metal banister tightly to pull himself up and out of the water, wet clothes weighing him down considerably, it was clear that they hadn't been the only ones stuck down here. The gate that separated them from from the second class department, ones that neither boy had ever seen locked but had clearly been so earlier that evening, lay on its hinges - a wooden bench that was, Harry confirmed with a quick glance behind him, ripped from the floor jammed in the entry way.
“Well,” Harry spoke, “I hope they're insured.”
It was crazy, it really was, to laugh at such a thing, but the water was now only lapping at their knees (or rather; Harry's knees), Louis had thought only ten minutes ago that he was about to die, and he was pretty certain that despite meeting Harry only a select few days ago, he wanted to know this boy for the rest of this life; he wanted to love this boy for the rest of his life. And so he laughed, loud and obnoxious as Harry passed him, climbing over the bench and through the threshold, water splashing as he landed, before turning back to Louis, offering his hand to help him over. It was difficult to control his laugh from petering out into a sob, especially when Harry smiled at him like that (because what if he couldn't love this boy forever? What if God had other plans?), yet somehow Louis managed, reaching across to grip Harry's hands tightly in his own, stepping onto the wood and praying that he didn't slip again. He didn't. But even if he had, somehow Louis knew that Harry would have pulled him back once more.
When he was close enough, Harry let go of Louis' hands in order to grip his hips, lifting him from the bench and sliding him down to stand next to him, fingers raking his sides as Louis' feet were planted safely on the ground. Louis smirked. “Did you just cop a feel, Mr. Styles?”
“A - pardon?”
Shaking his head, Louis smiled fondly. “I have a lot to teach you for when we're in the real world, sweet cheeks.”
Harry blushed. “I look forward to it.”
.
“Step back Sir, come through Madam, Sir step back!”
Niall sighed, messing up his hair for the fifth time as he raked the crowd, trying to spot their friends. “Hey, Zayn?”
Zayn looked up, eyes bloodshot and hair falling into his eyes, and Niall would have hugged him if this wasn't important. “Yeah?”
“We've got to face the fact that over half the people who started out on this ship are going to die, and we could be some of them.” Zayn made to interrupt, to reassure him and feed Niall false hope, no doubt, but Niall continued, refusing him the opportunity. “When I got off this ship I was supposed to be staying with my friend Liam Payne, he lives in the City, Coupland street. 428 Coupland Street, got it? If I don't make it... If I don't dock with the rest of you guys, find him. Find him and tell him about me. Tell him... tell him I was eaten by a Shark or something.” Niall chuckled, clasping Zayn's shoulder in an act of comfort. He didn't like the way his bottom lip was quivering. “Something heroic.”
“Niall...”
“Hey,” Niall shook his head, eyes glinting. “Don't get sappy on me now, you need to keep your masculinity in tact. God knows you're going to need it to try and woo Charlotte once her senses aren't impaired due to the sea air.”
Zayn let out a breath of a laugh. “Fuck off, pal. And...” he licked his lips, glancing around before continuing. “And if I don't make it off, will you tell her - tell her I...” he shook his head, a soft smile gracing his lips (the first genuine one Niall had seen from him that night). “Oh, she already knows.”