a louis to go, please! » stylinson au

29: stars as lights

No questions were asked.

Louis was just wearing Harry's hoodie and was wrapped up in two blankets to that as well. There was a steaming hot soup in front of him that would make glasses fog up and yet he felt still so cold.

His nose was red, his head hurt bad as if someone has punched it repeatedly, his cold lips were touching everytime he quivered and whimpered because it was just too much.

Not even Harry's light squeezes every once in a time were making him feel better. Harry used to be always able to make him feel a little bit more appreciated and wanted.

When he was with Harry, he knew it was right to stay and keep fighting. With Harry, everything seemed to make sense.

He didn't make all of his dark thoughts go away, he didn't make his demons disappear into thin air, he didn't make it stop. But Harry made it a tad bit more bearable.

For some odd reason, he made Louis feel warm. Harry was the sun in his universe and Louis just felt like the unappreciated moon. Unimportant.

Harry constantly reminded him that the sun and moon are soulmates, companions through life and can't function without one another. And so Louis always had the small thought in the back of his head that he in fact is important.

Perhaps the moon felt like this too. Lonely and so full of imperfections. Louis knew that the moon shines in the darkness, that the moon is the light. And yet his mind still convinced him that it wasn't worth it. That he wasn't worth it.

But the sun, oh my, the sun was the centre of everything, the sun was even shining its light on the moon and made it all work, the sun was it all.

Louis wasn't jealous. How exhausting it must be to constantly be there for everyone, to make sure everyone is able to see and find their way. Louis knew he couldn't be able to be the sun and save everyone else when he needed someone else to save him.

He felt like every light has expired, he didn't felt the familiar warmth that Harry used to radiate, the feeling of comfort and home.

Now even Harry has left Louis cold. Everything was cold.

And that was really everything he was feeling. Coldness. He knew that Harry had his fingers tangled in his messy that hasn't been greeted by water for a way too long time, he knew that Harry's hand was resting lazily on his waist, Louis knew it all but he didn't feel it.

Louis reached the point of constant emptiness. Of course the presence of his demons was still there, they were still haunting his head and made it harder for him to stay second by second.

But that was his head. His heart was empty. He wanted to care for everyone, to be the supportive friend he's been all along. And somehow, he did care, but now he just couldn't anymore. He was tired ... mentally tired.

And for some reason, this was even worse.

He wasn't tired because he didn't get enough sleep, he was tired of feeling this emptiness. It was a feeling a discomfort. Actually, there was no use in trying to explain all of this, no words would be enough to describe this stupid thing inside of his head and heart that wanted him to die.

Harry didn't know how to help. He was getting desperate. Louis' eyes were scaring him. It was like the ocean has been drained out of them, he wasn't Louis, he was someone and it was hurting Harry that he was gone.

He feared that Louis has fallen too deep and was far out of reach, he feared that Louis has drowned himself in the water he wanted to drown his demons in, he feared that his demons ripped him apart that his body has fallen to the ground lifeless and so, so cold.

The light was gone, every last sparkle of hope has vanished into nothingness. Harry didn't know how to get it back.

If he was the sun, the supposedly centre of everything, and couldn't shine the moon's way, then what could? What could make this broken boy keep going if all will to live has left his body?

Harry was deep in thought, Louis shivered under his touch in a way that broke his heart and the soup was cold.

Everything was so cold and it was a mystery to Harry how he could make everything warm again, how he could fix it all when there seemed to be no use in trying because what if it's too late already?

Why was time everything they had and also didn't have? Why does light expire, why do flowers wither, why is it all so unfair and why couldn't it all be just okay?

Okay was fine. Okay was more than just fine. It wasn't good and it wasn't great, and it most definitely wasn't perfect, but it wasn't bad either.

Harry wondered what it would be like if Louis felt okay again. Last time Louis revealed how he was feeling face to face it was "far worse than bad, everything that could be worse than bad is what I'm feeling".

The steam of the soup has disappeared, Louis didn't watched it dissolve into nothing anymore because it was now nothing.

So what now? Louis didn't know. Harry didn't know either. Did anyone of them knew anything? It surely didn't felt like it.

It didn't seemed like Louis wanted to talk. And that was fine, Harry understood. Louis hasn't moved ever since he woke up some hours later, he hasn't said a word or just turned his head a bit. The only thing he did was silently crying.

Would he mind if Harry talked? He felt the need to talk and say something, anything. But at the same time he wanted to stay silent for Louis because surely, his head was making enough noise.

Instead Harry decided to speak in his mind, trying to think of a solution that could possibly help this boy that was starting to develop into so much more than a crush.

Harry thought of the outer space, thought about the sun and the moon and that it couldn't be possible that this was the only source of light.

And so he tried to piece the puzzle together, connected the dots and that's when the dots turned into the stars.

Stars surround everyone, they are dying dreams and hopes, a small light in the dark and yet everyone loves and adores them. The sun and the moon are not the only one's that seem to be loved. These two are not the only sources of light. Stars seem to be always there.

Perhaps stars can be the light as well.

"Louis" Harry whispered, already expecting that there wouldn't be a response. There was a silence, Louis didn't muttered a word nor hummed to show that he was listening.

It didn't mattered anyway. What mattered was that the words were said out loud.

"Louis, perhaps the stars are the light we were looking for all along."

Another silence and just the soft breathing that told Harry that Louis was still awake. His breathing was relieving to hear.

Harry sighed quietly, his hands coming to a stop from the light massage he was giving Louis' scalp. "Stars as lights" He whispered, the words feeling good on his tongue because maybe this was it.

Magic stumbled from his pretty lips and when he spoke the language of the universe -- the stars sighed in unison.

And even though these were the words of a poet with the name Micheal Faudet, Harry could feel himself slowly relaxing and stared up at the dirty ceiling, imagined the stars shining down on them and yeah, maybe everything would be okay.

I like it what the hell.
Anygays, hope you enjoyed this one. :)

[ WC: 1336 ]