I'm fine, We're fine [boyxboy]

Twenty-Six

Louis POV

"I went to your parents, you're going to go to mine. End of discussion." I glared at Harry who stood opposite me on the balcony. Smoke rose from the cigarette I held and a light breeze blew it over to him. His nose crinkled and he fanned it away. But Harry didn't ask me to put it out. I guess he knew better. "If your parents can forgive you for everything and if I can, then my parents can, too. Things won't get better if we stay away, Harry."

"I just think it's a bad idea, Louis."

I had no way of knowing that Harry had already gone to my parents house in the days before. I didn't know about the confrontation they had, nor how Zayn had hit him. None of them said anything to me. Perhaps if he bruised, I would have known, but here I was, in the dark and quickly growing frustrated with him. "I don't care what you think. I miss my mom. I miss my sisters. I even miss my dad, Harry. And I'm not going without you. It needs to be made clear that you're going to be a part of my life regardless of what anyone thinks and regardless of what's happened. And if my parents want me, they have to accept you. You have to come, and if you won't do it for yourself, then do it for me. You owe me that much."

It was a low blow, but Harry had been dealing me lower blows the entire time we were together. A few sent his way would not kill him. I took a final drag from the cigarette and watched as it glowed orange before flicking it down into the old flower pot I had designated the butts to go in. I went over and leaned against him. "Baby, please. I need you for this."

Harry was silent and stared into the parking lot of the complex. Cars came and went. A few people were walking their dogs and others were jogging down the concrete walkways that lined the area. Some of them were taking the same paths that I knew Harry took. I squeezed his arm when he finally sighed. "Alright," Harry begrudgingly agreed. "We'll go. But if it goes to shit, I am going to tell you that I told you so."

"Fair enough. I love you. I'm going to take a shower!" I kissed his cheek and left him out on the balcony when I went inside. The apartment was nice and clean. I could hear the washer running a load of our mixed clothes down the hall. As I came into the bathroom and flipped the light on, the striking scent of bleach sent me into a coughing fit. It was a horrid smelling chemical, but it did a damn good job at cleaning the tub, and I'd admit that I was thrilled to take the first shower in the freshly cleaned bathroom. I turned on the shower and closed the curtain. By the time I left and came back with my clothes, it would be warm.

Harry was moping around when I returned. He would move the pillows on the couch, lift the remote and move it a couple of inches to the left, and glance at me as I moved around in search of the few things I needed before we could go. When I found my phone and slipped it into my pocket, I looked at him. Harry had my usual attire on: sweats and a long-sleeve. He filled it out better than I did. Everything looked better on him, though I'd assumed he would make himself a little more pleasing to the eye. Presentation is everything, my dad had always said. Though I supposed if I were in as deep of a shithole as him, I wouldn't have cared either.

"Do you want to eat before we go?"

I glanced at him and only shook my head. The eating habits I'd developed after I left the hospital had stuck. A snack here and there, but nothing close enough to a meal. It kept my clothes looser and I could strum a finger across my own ribs. That was the way it needed to be for now, because if I stayed petite, Harry would have one less thing to fuss over and we could continue to grow. "You really need to eat, Louis," Harry continued when I turned my back, "what do you weigh now? 120? 130?"

119, actually. About 45 pounds lighter than you. I tracked my weight on the scale in the bathroom. It didn't fluctuate much, but I had noticed little dips on either side of where my abs would be if I had them. They were like dark intentions that ran up to the protrusion of my ribs. I didn't know what to call myself other than skinny, but it worked and Harry no longer asked what I had in my cup. He had started badgering me about my weight, though. "I'm not hungry, Harry," I said over my shoulder as we left the apartment and made our way down the stairs. He should have known better by now than to question what I did. I smoked when I wanted and ate when the pangs of hunger had me curled into the fetal position. That was it.