TIRED TIRED SEA (Larry Stylinson) by MediaWhore on AO3

CHAPTER 10

The first few days after Harry leaves, Louis can"t believe how quiet the lighthouse is. It"s like he"s forgotten somehow, how much time he"s spent in this building on his own in the past. It"s like he"s forgotten how to have one-sided conversations with his dog the way he used to, a stream of consciousness leaving his mouth without shame with no expectation that someone will reply. Now, he keeps expecting Harry to pipe up with some clever, or not so clever, line. Every time he babbles in Clifford"s direction, there"s a part of him waiting for Harry"s comment, Harry"s laughter. Some terrible joke Louis would laugh at only because Harry looks so cute telling it. But Harry"s gone and there"s an empty space haunting the building where he used to be, a loud absence that Louis tries his best to ignore, tiptoeing around it like that will make things better.

Louis is fine though. He doesn"t cry himself to sleep every night or anything like that. He doesn"t mope in bed, wasting the days away because his suitor left him. Sure, maybe he"s taken to sleeping in the room Harry rented, cuddled up against Clifford"s body so he doesn"t feel too alone at night, but that doesn"t mean he"s not fine. Sure, he might not have washed the sheets yet, scared of getting rid of Harry"s fading smell, but that doesn"t mean he"s not fine. He knew what to expect, after all, knew all along it would come to this. Harry never made any promises he couldn"t keep. He didn"t leave Louis broken-hearted and feeling used. They knew what they were doing all along, knew how ephemeral the two of them were doomed to be.

It"s fine.

So what if, five days after Harry"s departure, Louis has the crushing thought that he"s probably in love with someone he can never have?

It hits him while he"s washing the windows outside the lantern room. He"s out on the gallery, the big sponge in his hands squeaking against the glass as he makes big circular motions, not thinking about anything specific when the overwhelming, yet obvious, realisation that he"s in love with Harry and he can"t do anything about it pops into his head. The overwhelming, yet obvious, realisation that he"s already lost him to life and their mismatched circumstances. That he"s never going to get the chance to tell him.

He loves Harry. What a useless, elating feeling.

Louis drops the sponge as soon as he thinks it and it falls back into the soapy bucket at his feet with a splash. He"s too dazed to notice though, too focused on the way his heart expands in his chest until it feels like it won"t fit anymore, too full of feelings he can"t hold in. He presses his palms against the windows he"s just cleaned, needing the support to hold himself up. He exhales shakily as he presses his forehead on the glass, waiting for the dizziness to pass. He inhales deeply. Then exhales, slow, controlled. Then, he does it again. The wind whistles around him. It"s probably loud, Louis thinks vaguely, but it comes across as faint and distant. He blinks, eyes wet. Louis blinks and he breathes. He waits, and waits, but the tears don"t come, grief and love both stuck in his throat with no outlet.

Maybe it"s not so fine after all.

Still, he tries not to let those newfound feelings affect him too much. Harry left. There"s nothing Louis can do about that. All he can do is try to keep himself as busy as possible so the place in his soul where he"s aching doesn"t get to thrive too much. So he putters around the b&b as normal, cleaning up all the rooms except Harry"s and ordering supplies in bulk for the new season. His next guests are coming in less than a month and Louis" establishment has a reputation to maintain.

He"s a bit mad at himself that he got through almost all of his maintenance tasks though, leaving him in need of a lot of creativity to keep himself occupied. He has to do quite a lot to get the small voice in the back of his head that wants him to curl up and indulge in his devastation to shut the fuck up. Still, he buzzes in and out of the cottage, making sure everything is okay, waking before five o"clock every single morning and going to bed way past one every single night. He sleeps fitfully and he knows he"s probably going to crash, but he"s running on a high of denial and as long as there"s energy in his body, Louis is going to use it.