currents//larry stylinson

5: love/paranoia

"We're almost there Harry, please be ready to get out. We're already running late." Anne told him, and he just nodded. It was misting a bit outside, the windshield wipers flipping up every few seconds. Harry rested his head against the cold glass, watching the trees go past. "Harry?" Anne asked. 

"Yeah?" He replied, not moving his head. 

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened with you two?" Anne soft looked over at him, and the question made Harry freeze.

"I don't know if I can tell you, because I don't even know what happened." He admitted with a sigh. 

"Not at the end, I mean everything. All those summers, all the sneaking out in the woods. Jay and I weren't dumb, Harry. We knew something was going on." She let out a shaky breath. "But I don't want you to talk about it until you're ready to." Harry sat on that for a few seconds.

"I loved him. A lot." A small tear worked it's way down his cheek. Anne didnt say anything, waiting for him to continue. "I think he loved me too. We snuck away and read poetry and kissed and drank shitty wine coolers, but it was all either of us ever wanted. Just each other."

"We first kissed the summer he got glasses. I remember it really well, he read me Walt Whitman and I fell in love, so fucking hard mum. So hard." By this point the waterworks were about to explode. 

"Oh, Harry baby, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." Anne choked out, and Harry could tell she really meant those words.

"Thank you." Was all he could say without his eyes littering tears all over his suit. 

"It's going to be okay, it will Harry. Everything happens for a reason." Anne patted his leg in comfort. (https://youtu.be/pfDqTpqqKo8)

"You're okay with it, right? Me and Louis?" Harry asked, and Anne turned to look at him in bewilderment.

"Of course, I can't judge someone for who they love. It's not my place." She shook her head slightly, and Harry knew it was in disdain to the world. The comfortable silence pulled them closer than they'd ever been, Harry could feel her pain. It was his too.

"We're here." The world seemed to darken as Anne pulled the car into an empty parking spot, and they both stared ahead. Harry looked at the dim trees and dead leaves littering the dingy grass. He inhaled a breath of false confidence. "We've gotta be strong, mum. It's time." 

Anne didn't even look over at him as another tear streaked her makeup. She sniffled and wordlessly climbed out of the car, grabbing the flowers from the backseat. Harry stood as well, stretching his limbs and straightening his coat. The world was sharp and cold and bitter, everything it should be. It had lost another soul. 

There was a small group of people already gathered in one spot, and Harry saw a big portrait and knew they were in the right area. He carefully avoided and other gravestones, not allowing himself to read the names. He didn't want to know their stories, and a name can say so much. The closer they got, the more nervous Harry got. He shrunk behind his mum a little bit, feeling like a coward but not ready to face the imminent present. 

"Oh Anne, hello dear." A woman in a long black dress turned around, Harry immediately saw her fear and pain and suffering, he felt it in the air. In her aura. He recognized her as Louis' grandmother.

"Jen, oh goodness." Anne's forced strength slipped away as she ran to embrace the woman. "I am so sorry. So so sorry." Harry wasn't used to seeing his mother like this, it made him hurt.

"None of this is your fault sweetheart, none of it." The woman rubbed Anne's back, she was surprisingly calm. "Hello Harry, it's been a while." The two women detached and she reached out to hug Harry, he happily accepted it. He thought about how he wished he were hugging her in different circumstances.