For As Long As I Can Remember (It's Been December)

Chapter 4: Part 3

The files slipped from Louis' hands, hitting the ground with a dull noise.
Harry was still staring at him, his words echoing between them. Or maybe they were just echoing off the walls of Louis' skull because his mind was completely blank except for Harry's upset expression and those words.
For a moment, Louis thought he would just drop to the floor, too, with a dull noise. It'd be too easy, though. That wouldn't fit his usual luck of having to take on every challenge that presented itself in his life. He had to face Harry instead.
"You're twenty," Louis heard himself say, as if it wasn't his voice. "You're twenty in that picture."
Harry's gaze dropped to the photo again and he withdrew his hand from it. "It's in my mum's garden."
Louis nodded. He had no idea what to say. Or what Harry expected him to say. Every word he could say could make this worse. He had planned to slowly prepare Harry for this. Now both of them had been thrown at the deep end, and Louis didn't know how to save them.
He probably couldn't save this.
"Louis." Harry looked at him again, eyes still intent. "Why is there a picture of us in my mum's garden?"
"Because," Louis choked out, hoping that Harry wouldn't run away from him. "Because I was there, Harry. And I remember all of it."
Harry frowned slightly. "All of what?"
Swallowing thickly, Louis ran a hand through his hair. "The three years," he replied. "Those three years you don't remember. The accident. The hospital. I remember all of it."
Shaking his head, Harry finally stood up. "That's not true. I was alone."
"You were not." Louis took a step closer to him. "You were with me."
It didn't even take a second for Harry's mood to revert. Louis could see the change on his face; could pinpoint the moment denial kicked in. He looked angry, his jaw stubbornly set. "I was alone in that car."
"You don't know that, do you? You can't remember any of it." Louis knew he had fucked up the moment it was out of his mouth. That had come out completely wrong and he wanted to take it back, say something else instead. Something that wouldn't make Harry hate him even more than he probably did right now.
Harry looked shocked for second, then his brows knit together in anger and his lips formed a thin line. He dashed past Louis without another word.
"Harry, wait." Louis followed him, catching Harry's wrist when he reached the door. "Baby--"
"Don't you dare call me that again." Harry pulled away from him. "I don't believe a single thing you're saying."
Louis' heart sank with the realisation that he was losing Harry. He had to do something, had to somehow make Harry stay and listen to him. "Come on, love, you need to calm down."
"I don't want to calm down." Harry turned on his heels, stomping out of the office. "I don't ever want to see you again."
Louis couldn't stop the whimper escaping him. He watched Harry dash down the corridor and disappear around a corner. His heart weighed heavily in his chest, and Louis wasn't sure it was beating at all. Maybe it was, but with even less purpose than before.
He slammed his fist against the doorframe and Cecilia shrieked quietly. She quickly lowered her gaze when he looked at her, pretending to be busy with something else. Louis ran a hand over his face, feeling his body go numb. His breathing got ragged and he felt dizzy.
"Mr Tomlinson?" Cecilia asked, her chair rattling as she shot up from it.
"I'm good." Louis wasn't, but what was the point? He'd never be good again. He had hurt Harry. The one thing he had promised himself he'd never do in life. The one thing he had tried to prevent from happening in the past five years. "Go back to work."
She didn't move, and Louis turned, dragging himself back into the office. He shut the door and swayed a little, staring without focus.
What was he supposed to do now?
For a minute, he remained like that, his whole body being flooded with panic. He wondered if this was what a true panic attack felt like. Maybe he'd collapse any second now, and maybe he'd just never wake up again. Maybe he'd wake up and got to be lucky enough to just forget everything that had happened. Maybe he'd just forget ever meeting Harry, and losing him. Losing him again.
Groaning, Louis buried his face in his hands, trying to get a grip. Being oblivious sounded like heaven, but he knew that he couldn't ever turn a blind eye to Harry. He had to take care of this. He had to take care of Harry. The worst was the knowledge of being the one to have hurt Harry.
He exhaled on a shuddering breath and pulled out his mobile. It rang once, twice, three times on the other end, until Liam picked up.
"Liam," Louis choked out before he could say anything. "I need your help."
"Lou." Liam sounded alarmed. "What is wrong? Are you okay?"
"I'm not okay. I'm--" Louis tried to control his breathing, swallowing the tears that were crawling up his throat. "I fucked up."
"Is Harry okay?" Liam asked immediately.
"No, he's---" Louis started pacing the room, gripping his own hair. "He found out, Liam. And he didn't listen to me. I couldn't explain."
"Where is he now?" Something on Liam's end was rustling.
"I don't know. He just ran away and he---" Louis didn't think he could repeat the words Harry had said to him. "He was so angry with me. He shouldn't be alone, Liam. Don't let him be alone now."
"I'm gonna find him." Liam sounded a little strained, moving around. "I'll take care of him."
"I'm sorry," Louis whispered as he stopped. "Liam, I'm so sorry."
"Louis, calm down." Liam grunted, probably doing three things at once right now. "We'll fix this."
"He hates me," Louis breathed out, hit by the realisation.
"He could never." The noises in the background stopped. "Louis. It's gonna be okay."
Louis didn't reply. He didn't see how this could be fixed; not with how Harry had looked at him. Not with what Harry had spat at him.
Liam said a few more things, but Louis didn't really register them. They hung up after a moment and Louis blinked, trying to focus. He slumped down into his chair -- the one Harry had sat in just a while ago.
Mockingly, the photo of them stared up at him, showing their happy faces. Louis watched his own face, only his profile, lips stretched in a smile, pressed against Harry's jaw. Harry's grin was so wide, it threatened to break his face.
Louis' heart ached in a way it had never before when he looked at it now.
He turned the frame over, flipping it onto the table, face down.
+++
Harry ignored his phone when it rang for the fifth time. He knew it was Liam without even checking. It couldn't be Louis because Louis wouldn't have the guts to call now. He was pretty certain, though, that Louis had most likely called Liam to send him to Harry.
For the past thirty minutes, Harry had been walking aimlessly between Liverpool Street and Spitalfield Market. There had been a brief shower of rain that had drenched Harry to the bones, and he was considering going home. In his flat, however, he'd be welcomed by a million reminders of how his life had just broken into a million pieces today. There'd be Niall, too, and he'd ask questions that Harry had no idea how to answer.
His mobile rang again, and with an annoyed groan, Harry pulled it out of his pocket. "How could you?" he answered, voice growling like thunder.
"Harry," Liam breathed out, sounding relieved. "Where are you?"
"None of your business." Harry pulled his sleeve over his free hand to warm it up. "You lied to me."
Liam was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry."
"That's not enough, Liam."
"I know." Liam inhaled. "Let me talk to you."
Harry considered that. "I picked up the phone, didn't I?"
"Properly," Liam argued. "Not like this."
"Well, Liam, this is your chance now to say whatever you have to say." Harry shivered when the wind picked up a little.
For a moment, Liam seemed to hesitate, but then he agreed to Harry's conditions. "Louis didn't do this to hurt you, Harry. No one meant to hurt you. We've done what we thought was best for you."
"When has lying ever been the best for anyone?" Harry asked.
"We didn't lie." Liam seemed to think better of that. "Okay, maybe we did. We amended things. It was best for you."
Harry thought of the day he had woken up with his memories erased. "It's been five years since then, Liam."
"And we stuck to the decision we made five years ago," Liam replied. "The doctors said it was too risky to tell you after a while. It wasn't easy for Louis, you know? He shouldn't have ever had to make a decision like that."
Harry thought of the picture on Louis' desk. Louis had looked younger, less stubble on his face, but the same crinkles around his eyes. He had had his arms wound around Harry's middle, and his smile had looked so satisfied and content. It hurt even more to think of how Harry had looked in the picture. His hair had been longer than it was now, tied up in a bun with some stray curls framing his face. His arm had rested over Louis' shoulders, his fingers loosely twisted in Louis' hair, his other hand firm on Louis' arm. He had positively beamed at the camera. There had been pure happiness radiating off that picture and Harry's breath still stuttered when he thought of it now.
"Who is he?" Harry asked quietly.
Liam huffed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Louis," Harry explained. "Who was he to me?"
"Haz," Liam started, apparently apprehensive about answering that. "Saying he was your boyfriend doesn't seem to truly cover it."
"Why?" Harry stopped walking in front of the tube station, frowning down at his boots.
"Because everyone knew that you guys would stay together for the rest of your lives."
Harry inhaled sharply.
"Or," Liam added, "at least you were supposed to."
For a moment, Harry needed to let that sink in. He blinked to clear his vision. "Was he really with me when the accident happened?"
"You were driving," Liam confirmed. "He was in the passenger seat."
"Was he hurt?"
It took Liam a moment to reply. He probably considered lying to Harry, and that was another stab to Harry's heart. "Yeah," he finally answered, sounding truthful. "You took more, Harry, but he was pretty banged up, too."
Harry swallowed thickly. "I was driving."
"You weren't at fault, though, Harry." Liam spoke firmly. "The lorry driver was the one who didn't pay attention. He caused the accident."
Maybe that was a lie, too. Maybe it was a lie they had told Harry so that he wouldn't feel guilty. There was no way for him to know what really was the case; not as long as he didn't get to talk to his mother again.
God, his mother. She had been in on that lie, as well. The black hole that had formed in Harry's chest just started to gape open wider and wider, swallowing everything Harry felt in dark anger.
"Why didn't he at least try?" he wondered out loud. "Why didn't he want to at least see if I would remember him? How could he just give up like that?"
Liam was quiet again. "Harry," he said then, calmly. "You don't really want those answers from me, do you?"
He didn't. He needed those answers from Louis. Harry had no idea if he ever wanted to see Louis again, though. Right now, the thought of Louis made him nothing but angry, upset -- and it hurt. It hurt to know what had happened between them, and that Louis had known all along while Harry had been blissfully oblivious.
"No," he said eventually. "I don't know if I want those answers at all."
"You need to talk to him," Liam protested. "At least give him a chance to explain it to you."
Just the thought of seeing Louis' face again made Harry's stomach turn at the moment. He shook his head, and the remembered that Liam couldn't see it. "I need some time."
"I get that, Harry. If you want to--"
"I don't wanna see any of you right now, actually," Harry cut him short.
"Harry," Liam tried to reason, but Harry interrupted him again.
"I'll call when I'm ready to talk." He lowered his phone and ended the call.
Twenty minutes later, he stood in front of a flat he'd only been to once before. The door was dark green, paint coming off on a few spots, revealing dull grey underneath. Harry had been staring at it for a few minutes, contemplating knocking.
When he finally did, Zayn opened the door a few seconds later, looking surprised. "Harry," he said, tilting his head. "Didn't you wanna go see Louis?"
Harry clenched his teeth. "Did Liam call you?"
"No." Zayn frowned. He stepped aside and gestured for Harry to step in. "Is something wrong?"
With a bitter laugh, Harry walked inside. He shivered when the warmth of the of the flat hit his skin. "Where do I even start?"
"Probably with why you're soaked." Zayn shook his head in disdain. "I'm gonna get you something to change into."
Harry watched Zayn disappear into the bedroom and coming back with a towel and fresh clothes. He put a hand on Harry's back and led him to the bathroom.
"Get changed," Zayn told him. "I'll make you some tea. Then we talk."
Sighing, Harry followed the order and stripped out of his clothes as soon as Zayn had closed the door. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked awful with his curls sticking in every direction, his skin pale and his brows knit together is worry.
Harry wasn't really sure he recognised himself at all.
When he came back out, Zayn was sitting on the sofa, a pot and two cups placed in front of him on the table. Harry sat down next to him and watched Zayn fill the cups. Steam floated over the surface, slowly dissolving into the air.
"I needed to talk to someone who's not involved," Harry said before he could think.
Zayn raised a brow, as he added a dash of milk for both of them. "I made you go see him, didn't I? I think I'm quite involved."
"Not like that. Not in what I---" Harry inhaled. "Not involved in my past."
It only proved that Harry had been right when choosing Zayn to talk to when he didn't push Harry to explain himself. "I'm not involved in that, no."
"I went to see Louis at his office." Now the words bubbled out of Harry, and he couldn't stop them. "I should have been suspicious the moment his secretary acted like she knew me. She told me I could wait for Louis in his office because I wasn't a client, after all."
Zayn was quiet, letting Harry unload everything he had on his chest.
"I should have known something was up." Harry ran a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes trained on the tea. "And I was so stupid because I wanted that thing with Louis to be more than it was. I thought I was mad at him, but after I had talked to you, I couldn't be mad anymore. I didn't really want to be mad, you know? I knew I should be, so I acted mad, but I wasn't. I wanted to see him again, and I wanted to feel what only he made me feel."
Nodding, Zayn leaned his arms on his knees, tangling his fingers together between his legs.
"I pictured how he'd react if he saw me there in his office, and I got all excited about seeing him again and then--" Harry shook his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat. "There was that photo on his desk. Of us, Zayn."
"That's kinda sweet," Zayn commented. "Maybe a bit soon, but--"
"No," Harry interrupted him. "From seven years ago."
Zayn's eyes widened. He apparently needed a moment to do the maths, but he finally caught up. "From the time you..."
Harry nodded when Zayn didn't continue. "From when I was twenty," he confirmed. "From a day that I can't remember."
"Fuck," Zayn mumbled. It was the first time that Harry saw him actually being shocked. Zayn wasn't usually thrown easily. "Holy fuck."
"I guess," Harry agreed.
"What kind of photo?" Zayn asked then, composing himself.
"A telling one." Harry remembered it without having to close his eyes. It was engraved to his brain. "He had his arms around me, kissing my cheek and I..." Harry shrugged. "It's in my mum's garden. We looked happy."
"A couple," Zayn noted. "You two used to be a couple?"
"Apparently," Harry said.
"For how long?" Zayn asked.
Harry shook his head. "I don't know."
"How did you meet?"
That was something Harry would have liked to know, too. "I... I don't know."
"God, Harry." Zayn gestured at him. "Don't tell me you just ran away without finding out about at least something."
"Louis came back just a minute later," Harry defended himself. "I didn't even have time to grasp it when he suddenly stood in front of me."
"So what did you do?"
Harry briefly met Zayn's gaze. "I asked him why there was a picture of us."
"And?" Zayn urged him on when Harry didn't continue.
"He said that it was from when I was twenty." Closing his eyes, Harry relived the moment in his head. "And then he said that he'd been there. When the accident happened."
Zayn gasped. "You were in that accident together?"
"I didn't want to believe it at first. Louis said that he was telling the truth and that I--" He fisted his hands, relaxing them again. "He said that I couldn't know because I don't remember."
"He probably didn't mean to hurt you," Zayn said quietly.
"It did hurt, though. What a low-blow." Harry shook his head. "So I kinda bolted and told him to fuck off and leave me alone."
"Kinda understandable," Zayn provided. "But not a solution for the long run."
"I guess not." Pressing his lips together, Harry tried to ban the image of Louis from his mind. He had looked scared, insecure. Broken.
For a while, they sat in silence, and Harry couldn't say he minded it. Zayn probably needed a moment to process what he had been told, and Harry could need a moment to sort his thoughts. He took a cup, blowing the steam away before he sipped.
"That's why Liam tried to keep you away from Louis," Zayn realised after a while. "That's why he kept telling you to date anyone but Louis."
Harry nodded. "They all knew. Liam, my mum, my sister. Probably even my doctors."
"And now?" Zayn leaned back on the sofa. "What are you gonna do now?"
"I have no clue." Harry rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't know. I should talk to my mum, but just the thought makes me sick."
Zayn put a hand on his back.
"I talked to Liam on the phone before I came here and I was so mean." Harry groaned. "I was mean to Louis, too. I'm just so angry."
"Confused," Zayn supplied, rubbing his back. "I'd say you're confused and agitated."
"Can anyone blame me?" Harry asked.
"I don't think anyone's blaming you, babe." Zayn stopped the motion. "Louis's probably blaming himself for all of this right now."
Harry withdrew his hands from his face, turning it to look at Zayn. "Do you think so?"
Shrugging, Zayn resumed the patting. "It all makes a bit more sense now, doesn't it? Why he didn't want to go on a date with you even though he was obviously interested. And why he kissed you and then didn't call. Why he got so jealous when he saw you with that Oliver bloke. He wanted to stay away, obviously, but you really didn't make it easy for him."
Harry groaned, burying his face in his hands again. "I have no idea how to feel about all of that."
"You don't have to figure that out tonight," Zayn reassured him. "But you'll have to figure it eventually. There aren't many options, are there?"
Harry sat up straight, blinking at him. "What are my options?"
Zayn smiled at him. "Well, for one, you could decide that it's in the past and that what they have done to you is unforgivable and burn all bridges."
The thought made Harry's heart sink. He couldn't even imagine doing that to his mother, or his sister and Liam. As angry as he was right now, the thought of having to be without them for the rest of his life was unbearable.
It seemed that Zayn read his expression when he went on. "Then you could let them explain. As it is now, you don't even know half of the story. You don't know their motives. Let them explain and then decide what you think is best for you." He refilled Harry's cup with tea. "When you know the full story, you could either go on from where you left off before you found out and distance yourself from Louis or keep him right where you guys were headed."
Harry frowned at that, feeling repulsive to both versions of that option.
"Or," Zayn added before Harry could say anything, "you could let them explain everything and listen to their story of events and then start from zero."
"Start from zero?" Harry asked, the frown still etched between his brows.
"Start fresh." Zayn handed him the tea. "Like a blank paper. Relearn what you've forgot. Including Louis."
Humming, Harry went through those options in his head, trying to see if there was another one to handle this. His mind drew completely blank, though, and in the back of his head a persistent pounding had started to throb.
"You don't have to decide anything on the spot, Harry," Zayn reminded him and got up. He took the pot and his own cup. "You wanna stay the night?"
Harry thought of his flat and the wall with all those memories he had collected. He didn't think he could bear looking at them, knowing that they were nothing but lies. Anger welled up in him again and he clenched his teeth. "Yes, please."
Zayn didn't say anything else, just returned with an extra duvet and pillow a few minutes later. "How about we order pizza and you can choose a film on Netflix?"
"Thanks," Harry mumbled when Zayn put the bed down on the sofa and sat next to Harry again. He reached out to touch Zayn's arm. "Really. Thanks."
Zayn slung an arm around his neck and pulled him close. "That's what friends are for."
Harry snuggled closer into the embrace, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Hey, babe," Zayn said then, sounding a little apprehensive.
"Hm?" Harry murmured.
"Would it be okay if I called Liam to let him know you're here?" Zayn asked, squeezing Harry's shoulder. "I know he's gonna be worried sick when you don't go home tonight."
Harry laughed wetly, resting his head on Zayn's shoulder. "That's okay. I don't want him to be worried."
They both knew that Liam was going to be worried either way, but neither of them commented on that. Instead, Zayn switched on the telly and let Harry stay snuggled against him while they searched for a film to watch.
Harry wondered if Louis was worried about him, too.
+++
Louis was so worried, he hadn't slept all night.
He had lain on his sofa for a few hours, just as he had the nights before. Since he had had Harry in his bed, Louis couldn't have slept in there anymore, much less look at it. Each time he did, he saw Harry there, sprawled out on the dark sheets, the duvet pushed down to his hips, skin soft and warm.
Harry. Harry who had told Louis to stay away from him and that he never wanted to see Louis again.
Rubbing a hand over his face, Louis stared at the wall of his living room, trying to make sense of it all. There was no sense in it, though -- nothing that made sense to Louis at least. Losing Harry a second time, losing him like this, was something Louis didn't think he could overcome.
He had overcome a lot in the past five years. Sometimes, Louis didn't even understand how he had made it through them. He had lost his Harry, had lost his life as he had known it, had worked his arse off to get to the top that the path there was nothing but a blur to Louis. He had lost his mother.
There was really no explanation to Louis how he had survived that time. It was the only feeling he could compare to how he felt now; a massive emptiness filling his chest and a gaping hole in his heart. He already knew that it wouldn't ever be filled again. It would just exist right there within him. Next to the hole his mother had left when she had died.
However, Anne had made sure to fill it up as best as she could ever since. She'd been calling and texting him to check up on Louis. She hadn't left him behind when Harry had, but had only clung to him more vehemently than before.
That's why Louis had called her this morning. He hadn't wanted her to hear it from Liam; not even from Harry. He knew that he had to be the one telling her about last night's disaster.
Contrary to what he had feared, Anne had been pretty calm about it. Of course she had been worried, and she wanted Harry home with her, out of the mess that they had crashed into here. She wanted him safe.
"How are you holding up?" she had asked eventually.
"I'm good," Louis had said. "I'm not the one who had to find out they've been lied to for years."
"Louis." Anne's voice had been scolding. "Don't lie to me. How are you holding up?"
Biting his lip and closing his eyes, Louis had tried to control himself. Having a breakdown would benefit noone. "Not so well..."
"Did you eat something?" she had asked.
"No."
"Did you get some sleep?"
Louis had released a wet laugh. "I couldn't."
"You should take the day off, sweetheart." Anne had sighed. "Call in sick."
"I can't." Louis had already dressed up for the meeting that morning. "I've got an important appointment."
She had offered to come down to London and look after both of them. It had melted Louis' heart with gratitude, and he had told her such.
"But Harry needs you more now," he had finally said. "He needs some time away from here."
"He shouldn't have ever gone down to London," Anne had sighed. "I shouldn't have let him leave."
Louis didn't argue. Anne had been against Harry's decision from the beginning. Had Louis known about it, he had probably supported her in it. Yet, that things would have ended up like they had now had been beyond any of their wildest imagination.
When he had ended the call with Anne, Liam had come into the room to silently hug Louis. He was probably the only one who really understood how bad Louis really felt. He had tried so hard to stay out of Harry's life and make it easier for him, but in the end, all of the decisions he had ever made had backfired badly.
Even though Liam had tried to protect both Louis and Harry, he could only have watched on as Harry had deflected every effort they had made. In his own way, Liam was probably hurting, too.
"I'm gonna have to go back to Manchester tonight," Liam had told him. "Maybe Niall could stay with you?"
As if Louis needed a babysitter. Liam had acted as though Louis would fling himself out of window. As though Louis wouldn't survive this if he was left alone.
Louis managed a bitter laugh that echoed from the walls of his living room.
He had almost drifted into sleep when a loud knock on his door made him jump. He rubbed his eyes, wondering for a moment if he had just imagined it. Then it knocked again. Groaning, Louis got up from the sofa, taking off the tie he had only loosened when getting home earlier.
Liam had apparently called Niall after all. At least Niall hadn't just barged in like usual to find Louis half-dying on the sofa. This way, Louis had at least a moment to compose himself and prepare to act.
He wasn't prepared for what he saw when he opened the door.
Harry wore a beanie to hide his curls. He wore dark jeans and a loose, blue jumper that made him look small. His skin was paler than usual and he had dark circles under his eyes.
Louis wanted to cry. More than ever before, he just wanted to curl up and cry right now. He wished Liam hadn't left already. If he hadn't, he'd probably put a stop to this and save Louis from breaking down in front of Harry.
"We need to talk," Harry said, his tone freezing cold.
That sentence never led to anything good, but Louis still stepped aside to let Harry in. His heart made a bit of a leap in his chest when Harry walked past him. His fingertips tingled with the need to reach out.
Fisting his hands by his sides, Louis followed Harry. He stepped into the sitting room first, but Louis could see the way Harry's eyes roamed over the sofa, the hurt of being reminded of their night together written all over his face. With a bit of a falter in his step, Harry turned to the kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs there.
Louis stayed at the door, leaning against the frame. He wasn't sure if he needed to bolt at some point. He also wasn't sure he would keep his hands off Harry should he get closer to him.
"I'm gonna go to Manchester with Liam tonight," Harry said, not looking at Louis.
Louis cleared his throat. "He's not here anymore."
"I know." Harry nodded stiffly. "I'm gonna meet him back at Zayn's, after--- When I'm ready."
"Mhm." Louis nodded. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to say anything at all.
"You talked to my mum," Harry stated.
Louis nodded again.
Now, Harry looked up at him, but his eyes didn't quite meet Louis'. Louis avoided it, too. "Were you in contact all this time?"
Honesty was the only way to do this. Louis was aware of it, had talked it through with Liam in detail before everything had blown up. It wasn't easy, though. Telling Harry about everything they had kept from him for so long.
"Yeah," Louis said finally. "I was in contact with her, quite regularly. With your sister, too."
Harry blinked his eyes slowly. "They like you."
Louis didn't know how to reply to that. "We've grown quite close over the time, I--- when we--" He gave up on phrasing words that didn't want to leave his mouth.
For a while, Harry was quiet. He seemed to consider what Louis had said, or what to ask next. "How long were we together?"
"A little over two years." The two best years of Louis' life.
"How did we meet?"
Louis crossed his arms over his chest, his shirt rustling with the motion. "In a pub. You had just moved to Manchester a few weeks before."
"The last thing I remember is from a few days after I moved there," Harry pointed out.
"I know." It was almost not audible the way Louis could barely get the words out. "What made the whole thing even worse for me."
Harry frowned down at his hands. "Why were you with me during the accident?"
Louis' stomach turned. Harry was getting to the serious question pretty fast. "Because we were always together." Louis bit his lips. "We lived together."
"I was driving."
"You were," Louis replied, not sure where Harry was going with that.
Harry looked up at him again, an unspeakable pain in his eyes. "You were injured."
Affection flooded Louis' chest when he realised what Harry's issue was. "Ba--" Louis stopped himself, swallowing the word. It was incredibly hard to comfort Harry without touching him or giving him any of the affection Louis craved to give. "It wasn't your fault, Harry."
"It was different when I thought I was alone in the car." Harry shook his head. "If I had paid more attention, or if I had just--- I could have got you killed."
For how long had Louis wished that had just happened? That Harry had turned the other way, so Louis would have been hit by the lorry? He wasn't sure telling Harry that he had risked his own life to protect Louis' would make any of this better, though.
"You didn't," Louis assured him, forcing his feet to stay still. "My injuries were only half as bad as yours."
Harry seemed to need a moment, then he exhaled shakily. "The scars... Are those scars from the accident?"
The reminder of Harry's fingers running over Louis' skin was like a slap in the face. Louis cleared his throat. "They are."
"Did it take long for you to recover?"
"I was discharged a long time before you were." Louis licked his lips, his throat feeling dry. "I was fully recovered in time for my birthday."
Harry nodded, but then he frowned. "When is your birthday?"
Ignoring the stab to his heart, Louis said calmly, "Christmas Eve."
Again, Harry seemed to consider it. His own recovery had taken much longer. He had only been back on his feet and resuming his life in March of the following year. Anne and Liam had kept Louis updated on the progress.
"When we had lunch that time," Harry pulled him from his thoughts eventually, "I asked about your ex-boyfriend."
And Louis had said that he was still in love with that ex-boyfriend. His heart stumbled, beating faster afterwards.
"I thought I had to compete with someone you couldn't forget; some faceless stranger." Touching his lip, Harry frowned at him. "Was that me? Did you talk about me?"
As if that even was a question. For Harry, however, everything was questionable right now.
"Yeah," Louis replied. "I-- I had hoped you'd probably remember if I told you. It was stupid."
Harry intently stared at him, eyes roaming over Louis' body. "I didn't remember."
It was another hit to hear Harry say it out loud. "You didn't."
"I kinda did, though," Harry argued, sounding upset. As if he wasn't satisfied with Louis' answer. "I probably didn't remember what happened, but I remembered you ."
Louis' heart was going to burst out of his chest, it was beating that fast. He took a tentative step closer to Harry. "Did you--"
"I was so drawn to you," Harry explained, shaking his head and leaning away. "I couldn't even understand it, but everything in me wanted to be with you from the first moment on."
Louis buried his hands in his pockets. Harry's body language spoke clearly. He didn't want Louis close right now.
"There was something about the way I felt when you touched me." Harry frowned to himself. "Not when we---" He bit his lip, glancing at Louis. "I meant in the beginning. Each time you as much as brushed your hand against mine, I felt something I couldn't explain to myself."
Their gazes locked for the first time, properly. This time, Harry didn't look away, and Louis didn't dare to, either.
"I've tried having sex after the accident, but I never truly enjoyed it." Harry swallowed, and Louis thought he'd have to drop dead on the spot if Harry kept talking about sleeping with other men. "I felt awkward, because my body knew things that I couldn't remember learning." He furrowed his brows. "I didn't feel like that with you. There was that instant intimacy with you. I felt connected to you."
"Because you've learned those things with me," Louis choked out before his voice wouldn't work anymore. "You hadn't slept with anyone but me in those two years."
Harry hummed, finally breaking their eye contact. "I figured."
"Harry." Louis ignored the look on Harry's face and approached him, stopping right in front of Harry. "I know I shouldn't have slept with you."
A dry laugh fell from Harry's lips. "You shouldn't have done quite a few things."
That hurt, and Louis instantly lashed out, too. "I tried to stay away, didn't I? You practically forced yourself onto me."
Harry gasped, eyes wide. "Everything that happened between us was consensual. You can't pretend like---"
"You fucking threatened to sleep with another man if I didn't do it," Louis reminded him. "How could I let you do that?"
"I was free to sleep with whomever I wanted," Harry shot back, "because you decided to give up on me."
Shocked into silence, Louis could only stare at Harry.
"Wasn't it like that?" Harry asked, anger in his voice. "You decided that I wasn't worth fighting for, so you ran away instead. Having to go through that kind of hardship had been too much for you, so you took the easy way out."
Louis tried to bite back the tears, but it didn't quite work. He could feel them burn in his eyes. "Do you really think that?"
"I don't know, Louis." Harry finally stood up, gesturing in agitation. "What am I supposed to believe? No one's told me anything. Instead, everyone just lied to me."
The truth, Louis remembered. He had promised to be honest before anything else. Taking a deep breath, he waited for Harry to look at him again. "I didn't leave to make it easier on me, Harry. I thought it would make it easier on you."
"You didn't even try," Harry argued. "You just gave up that easily."
"I didn't." Louis shook his head. "But, at first, I couldn't even get to you. We were in the same hospital, but on different floors. They couldn't put me in a wheelchair because of my hip."
"But they could have told me about you!"
"You weren't doing well." Louis saw Harry's composure crumble with every word. "You didn't handle the amnesia part very well. And so they didn't say anything until you showed some signs of working through it."
Harry frowned, his lips a thin line.
"When I was stable enough to go see you, more than a month had passed, Harry." Louis swallowed thickly, forcing the next words out. "And yes, I was scared. I was so, so scared of going down to your room and seeing you. I didn't want you to look at me like I was a stranger. And I didn't want to be the reason all of the progress you've made would be in vain."
"You couldn't know that," Harry said, crossing his arms.
Louis nodded. "I couldn't. But I knew you, baby." It slipped out before Louis could think better of it. "If I had come to see you and if I had told you everything, I would have been a sobbing mess at your bedside. I would have begged you to remember me. And you would have felt guilty for not remembering."
"Maybe I would have remembered," Harry kept on pushing his point.
"You slept with me and haven't remembered," Louis murmured. "You have no idea how often in the past few months since meeting you again I have hoped you'd just suddenly turn around and remember everything. You didn't. Not even when I kissed you, not when I fucked you. Not when we've watched our song being played live."
Harry blinked at him briefly, but he didn't ask. "Maybe I would have remembered back then. It's been five years now. But back then--"
Louis interrupted him with a shake of his head. "I went to see you once."
"Really?" Harry breathed it out, unbelieving.
"The night before I got discharged. I just---" Louis shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "I needed to see you. So bad. So I went to your room and you--- you just--"
"Didn't recognise you," Harry supplied quietly.
"You asked me if I was looking for someone." Louis swallowed a choked-up sigh. "You were smiling at me, kind as ever, asking if you could help."
Harry was quiet, watching Louis carefully.
"And I didn't know what to say, so I just left again." With a hand over his mouth, Louis searched for Harry's gaze. "It broke me, okay? I wasn't coping well with the situation. Having you look at me like that, after the last image of you I had was--" he stopped himself, shutting his mouth quickly.
Narrowing his eyes, Harry stepped a little closer. "I wanna know. What is it?"
Louis just shook his head. He couldn't possibly tell Harry about his biggest trauma.
"Louis." Harry reached out to touch his arm.
When he did, Louis' whole body jumped and before he could get a grip, he pushed forwards and slammed into Harry, his face buried against Harry's chest. Harry was probably just as shocked by the reaction, his body completely frozen.
"I was conscious," Louis whispered. "During all of it, Harry. The last thing I said to you was some shit about taking someone else home that night, and I've regretted that every single day since. I should have told you how much I loved you or how lucky I was to have you, but instead I joked about not being ridiculously gone for you."
Harry was still standing frozen, hands in the air, while Louis couldn't bring himself to pull away. Harry's jumper was soft, and he smelled so familiar that it helped calm Louis' nerves down a little. If he had to tell Harry about this, at least he could have some kind of comfort while doing so.
"And then suddenly, everything was upside down, and it hurt and you screamed, and---" Louis shut his eyes closed, trying to ban it all from his head. It bubbled out of him without any control. "There was this man talking to me, but I couldn't understand a word. When I turned to you-- You were-- There was blood. Mine, yours. And I was so scared. I thought you were dead. You didn't react, and there was just so much blood ."
Harry inhaled sharply, and then his arms came around Louis, holding him tightly. Louis whined with it, nuzzling closer into the embrace.
"I'm sorry," Louis mumbled against Harry's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling you this."
"I asked for it," Harry said. His own voice was raspy and raw with emotion.
"You weren't supposed to ever know." Louis tok his hands off Harry's waist, pulling away. He knew that he had crossed a line by touching Harry like this. "The doctors advised against it."
Harry pulled his hands back soon, but Louis noticed how he let them linger for just a second too long. Harry had always been kind and commiserate with people. Seeing Louis break down like this probably hadn't been easy for him to just ignore. Harry wasn't the kind of person to ignore other people's misery. He was the kind of person to give comfort.
"Well," he finally said when there was some space between them. "That didn't work out, did it?"
Louis shook his head. "I never wanted you to find out, Harry. But you kept chasing me, and you just didn't give up. I've never really been good at denying you anything." He gave a helpless shrug. "And what I've wanted even less was to disappoint or hurt you."
Harry was quiet again, and Louis chanced a glance at him. He wasn't looking at Louis, though, but had his gaze fixed on the ground. "So you gave in."
"I really tried not to," Louis murmured. "Didn't I?"
"But you couldn't," Harry said, and there was something strange in his voice, a tilt to his tone, that Louis couldn't identify. Until he continued. "Because you love me."
Louis' heart stuttered, and he thought that it had to show on his face what those words did to him. He nodded slowly. "Because I love you."
Harry turned away, looking as conflicted as Louis felt. He started pacing the room, and Louis decided that he had probably unloaded enough of his feelings on Harry for one night. He stayed quiet, waiting for what Harry had to say.
"I've been thinking about that a lot," Harry said. "All night and all day, actually. It kept me awake because that was the only explanation for why you'd done what you had done."
Louis nodded, but still kept quiet.
"And--" Harry stopped pacing, looking at Louis directly. "I think nothing that happened between us until now was anything real, you know?" Before Louis could even react, he went on, "Because everything I felt wasn't me , but this part of me that's locked somewhere inside me. That I can't remember, but I know that I act on when I'm cooking and just know how to handle the tools, and sometimes when there's music playing and I just know the words. And when it comes to you."
Harry put a hand over his chest. "It wasn't me who wanted you. It was that part that's still attached to you."
Louis tried to ignore his heart breaking when Harry said those words. "I guess that makes sense," he admitted. It did, in a way. Even if it wasn't what Louis wanted to hear.
"Maybe it's the same for you," Harry suggested, and reached out to tap his finger against Louis' chest. "Maybe what you love isn't me, but that memory."
"Harry--" Louis started, but Harry stopped him.
"I want what I didn't get five years ago." He looked determined. "I want a chance to get to know everything that I can't remember. That includes you."
"You already know me," Louis argued, not quite sure he liked where Harry's mind was going with this. "You've got to know me over the past few months, didn't you?"
Harry considered him for a moment. "I tried to get you to sleep with me."
Louis' stomach turned a little. Harry was right. He had done everything he could to get Louis to sleep with him. Harry had even played dirty to get what he'd wanted. "You did."
"I have no idea if any of what I thought I was feeling for you was even real." Harry buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I gotta figure that out."
"What do you expect me to do?" Louis asked. He didn't think he could be around Harry and just wait for his verdict on whether he liked Louis or not. "What if you decide you don't like me?"
Harry furrowed his brows again. "Then I hope it's mutual," he said slowly. "Because you need to do the same, Louis. You need to figure out who I am, and if it wasn't just a memory that you were chasing."
"God." Louis buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. Harry couldn't seriously think that Louis didn't know his own heart. "Don't do this to me."
"I didn't get to decide on what would happen with us five years ago, Louis," Harry reminded him. This time, he didn't reach out, and his voice sounded firm. "Now it's my turn to make a decision. We had it your way, now we're having it mine."
Louis inhaled through his nose, hand still covering his mouth. He closed his eyes and tried to figure out what to do. His thoughts were running wild in his head, and Louis couldn't pin down a single one to clear it up and find the right words.
"Louis?" Harry asked. "If you don't--"
"No," Louis said, looking up at Harry. "If that's what you want, then I'll do it."
Harry nodded slowly. "Good."
Lous would probably do anything Harry asked of him, as long as it meant he wouldn't leave Louis' life again. In this scenario, every wrong word, and every wrong step could drive Harry away from him, though. Just thinking about it made Louis a nervous wreck.
"You'll have some time to think about it and adjust to the idea," Harry reassured him. "I'm gonna stay with my mum for a few days. There's a lot--- Well. I still have a lot of questions."
Louis nodded. "I can imagine."
For a moment, they were both quiet, just looking at each other. Harry had a frown on his face, as if he still didn't know what to make of the situation and of Louis.
"I guess I..." Harry gestured to the door.
"Yeah, um..." Louis stepped aside to let Harry pass. "Liam's probably waiting."
Harry went to the front door and Louis trailed behind him. He watched Harry hesitate as he had opened the door and he turned around to Louis once more.
"Thanks for telling me," Harry said, sounding earnest. "It helps giving all of this a bit of perspective."
Louis just nodded, tangling his fingers to keep himself from reaching out for Harry. Watching him leave was the hardest thing to do, especially with everything being so uncertain between them.
"See you?" Harry asked quietly.
"I'll be here," Louis answered, stepping into the doorframe when Harry left the flat. "If you need anything."
Harry briefly smiled at him, but it didn't reach his eyes. Louis knew that his answering smile was just as bland. Without another word, Harry turned and disappeared in one of the lifts. Before the doors closed, their eyes met once more, and Louis tried to ignore the uncertainty he could see in Harry's.
He also tried to ignore his own feeling that this whole thing was doomed.
+++
Being home was as comforting as it was disturbing for Harry.
He had thought going home would isolate him from his life in London, would somehow cut him loose of what had happened in those past two days. He had wanted to wrap himself in the comforting cocoon of home, where time had stopped and everything was exactly the way it had been when he'd been still eighteen.
Yet, this time around, coming home felt different. It was still comforting, but Harry had also come to realise that time had never stopped; not even here. Everyone had just kept up the pretense for him. Now that the curtains were lifted, Harry couldn't even look at his own home in the same way as before anymore.
His mother was even more of a sitting hen than she'd been after the accident. She was making a fuss everytime Harry so much as moved, asking if he needed anything. What Harry needed were answers, but she couldn't really give those. She had told him about the accident, and about his living situation, but not about Louis. Everytime, Harry tried to ask something about his time with Louis, she managed to sidestep the topic. Harry had almost given up on asking at all.
"So," Gemma said when they were in front of the telly later at night. She had come home as well, upon hearing the news of Harry discovering their lies. "Did you talk to Louis at all?"
Harry kept his eyes on the screen. "I did."
"What did he say?" Anne wanted to know.
Lifting a brow, Harry turned to her. "Didn't you have time to match your stories?"
"Harry," Gemma mumbled, taking the remote to turn off the telly. "Don't do that."
"What?" Harry crossed his arms. "You did that before, too, didn't you? You made up all these lies together with him."
Anne bit her lip. "We were only trying to make it easier on you, love."
"Actually," Gemma added, "Louis didn't come up with any lies. It was all us."
Harry frowned at her. Obviously, Louis had been in on it -- he had told Harry about it last night.
"He wasn't there to tell any lies, was he?" Gemma's shrug was hesitant, the look on her face a little uncertain.
That hit, and Harry swallowed thickly. She was right, in a way. The only lie Louis had told had been through his absence. Everything else, his family and friends had made up.
"I can rephrase my question," Gemma offered after a moment of silence. "What did he not tell you that you want to know?"
Harry pressed his lips together. He'd like to know about a few things, but he had a feeling those could only be answered by Louis. So he started with one that he still didn't quite believe, no matter what Liam and Louis had said.
"Was the accident my fault?"
"No," Anne said immediately. "It was the lorry driver. Harry, we didn't lie about that."
Releasing a breath, he looked at Gemma, and only when she nodded at him, did he feel that weigh fall off his shoulders. He had blindly believed them when he had woken up in the hospital, and he had never questioned it. Knowing that there had been someone else in the car made it a completely different story, though. Harry never wanted to be responsible for someone to be injured like they had been.
Anne got up and sat down next to him, taking his hand. Harry watched her tangle their fingers. "What do you plan to do? If you want to leave London, that's--"
"I'm not gonna leave London." Harry vehemently shook his head.
"But Louis is there," his mother argued.
"He is, yeah. As as well as my job, and my flat, and my friends."
"Maybe it'd be good for you to stay here for a while," Anne suggested. "Until you've learned to deal with the situation."
"I've talked to Louis about it." Harry looked at the rip in his jeans over his knee, fidgeting the loose threads with his fingers. "We agreed that I'd stay in London and get a chance to properly deal with this. With him. I want to know about my past, and about the role he played in it."
Gemma nodded slowly. "I get that, Harry, but..." She seemed to sort her thoughts for a moment. "Do you really want to know everything now? It may hurt you because there's nothing you can change about it anymore."
Harry knew that she was right. Digging in a past that he couldn't remember was a recipe for getting himself into emotional distress and mental breakdown. His doctors had told him more than once.
"I would prefer if you didn't see Louis again." Anne was quiet, her tone apprehensive.
That made Harry's stomach knot together. He didn't know why, but the idea of never seeing Louis again didn't sit well with him. He was still angry, of course he was, and Louis still owed him quite a few apologies and explanations, but after the first anger had subdued, Harry had realised that he couldn't go back to pretending he didn't know Louis.
He looked up at his mother, frowning. "He said you've been in contact the whole time."
Anne nodded. "We were."
"I thought you liked him." Right now, it didn't seem like that to Harry.
"I love him," Anne replied immediately. "I love him a lot, Harry. I just don't think it's good for you to have him back in your life."
"That was his decision," Harry said, repeating what he'd said to Louis as well. "He decided that's what's best for me, and all of you agreed. I get it. You wanted what's best for me, and I'm trying not to be mad about it."
"But?" Gemma asked.
Harry turned to her. "I didn't have a say in it. And now it happened that I met Louis, and that I found out about my past. I want to be the one in charge now. I want to make my own decisions. And I decide that I want to know everything. That includes Louis, too. I have to know about him and what I've lost with him."
"But what if--" Anne started and Harry cut her short.
"Then we'll see about it, should that happen." He inhaled deeply. "I want it this way and you can either support me in my decision or you have to stay out of it completely."
He knew that his mum thought of him as a defiant teenager right now, and that she thought she knew better than him what was really good for him. Harry wouldn't let her pressure him into anything this time, though. He was finally in a position where he could make decisions for himself and where he could take full control of his life. She only meant well, but Harry was tired of being protected and watched over.
That night, Harry texted Liam that he wanted to go back to London with him the next morning. He had been supposed to stay the whole weekend and had taken the days off at the restaurant. As it was now, though, Harry couldn't imagine staying another two days. He felt like he had to be in London if he wanted to move on.
Already?, Liam texted back.
Mum's suffocating me. I'm going crazy if I stay here.
Liam typed, then stopped, and went back to typing. I'm moving most of my stuff tomorrow. Taking my dad's van. All the lads will be down to help me..., was what came finally through.
All the lads , Harry thought, probably meant that Louis was going to be there, too. He bit his lip, considering his reply.
I can help, too xx
Liam didn't reply for a moment. Then, when his reply came, it made Harry laugh dryly.
when I say all the lads I mean louis too
I figured , Harry typed back. I'm gonna help.
Fine. pick u up at 8 tomorrow xx
Harry put his mobile away and rolled onto his back. His childhood room was still the same as he remembered it from when he had been eighteen. His mother hadn't changed a single thing about it. Previously, when Harry had been home, coming into this room had always felt like a relief. Like feeling whole after he hadn't been able to feel whole anywhere else.
That had been replaced with the feeling of being in Louis' arms. Harry hadn't quite realised up until he had set foot in his room at home, that the only time he had ever felt more complete than he did here was when Louis had curled around him, holding Harry close to his chest.
It had probably been a reaction to what Harry had once known; to those feelings his heart hadn't forgot. He hadn't dared talk of it like that in front of Louis, but that part that still knew Louis -- it was definitely in his heart.
Apparently, he had once loved Louis quite a lot.
He thought back to how Liam had said that they'd always known Harry and Louis would stay together for the rest of their lives. It made Harry wonder if he had known it, too. If they had ever talked about that, too.
He curled up under his duvet, closing his eyes. There were still so many questions on his mind, so many things he had to know before he could understand even just a fraction of it all. And there was no one else who held the answers than Louis.
Not his mum, not his sister, not Liam.
If Harry wanted to know, he'd have to ask Louis. That much he had found out today.
+++
When they arrived in London the next day, Harry felt nervous. He had made up his mind, but that didn't make seeing Louis again easier in any way. He could see him sit on the steps to Liam's flat, chatting with Niall. They hadn't noticed Liam parking the van a few hundred metres down the street yet, so Harry had enough time to make out every single emotion on Louis' face.
During the ride down to London, Liam had apologised.
"I know I didn't make things better for you, and I acted like a prick," he had said, eyes on the road. "I didn't know what to do."
Harry had nodded. "I get it now."
"I'm sorry, Haz," Liam had said. "Maybe it wouldn't have come this far if I hadn't tried to keep you away from Louis."
It would have. Harry would have pursued Louis anyway. He had told Liam as much, and with that, this whole thing had felt settled between him and Liam, at least. It had been a relief, actually, to feel some of the anger that had built up inside of Harry dissolve into thin air.
They left the car and Harry took one smaller box with him before Liam shut the car. He was carrying a bigger box than Harry, but Harry wanted to be able to concentrate on Louis when they approached.
He could tell the exact moment Louis noticed him. He smiled when he saw Liam, getting up from the stairs. The smile faltered when his eyes fell onto Harry, and instead, he looked like a bird in a cage, desperately checking for escape routes.
"Thanks for coming to help," Liam said when they reached Louis and Niall.
"Sure, mate." Niall helped Liam set the box down before he hugged him briefly. Then, he turned to Harry. "Weren't you supposed to stay with your family over the weekend?"
Harry shrugged and accepted Niall's hug. "I changed my mind."
For a moment, there was an awkward silence when Liam had greeted Louis, too. They stood across from each other and while Niall and Liam looked from Louis to Harry and back, Harry stared at Louis.
"Hi," he said tentatively, trying for a smile.
Louis smiled back shily, not meeting Harry's eye. "Hi."
The silence stretched uncomfortably, and Harry wondered who of them would run off first, but then Niall spoke up. "Zayn's late. Let's get started without him."
Liam had got himself a flat that wasn't ready-furnished. As an interior designer it was important to him to decorate the flat himself. He had bought a lot of things, but had also brought down a lot of stuff from his previous flat.
They started bringing everything inside first, and Harry realised that they'd need the whole weekend to set everything up. There was no way they'd get this done today. He was sure of that when he returned to the van to find they only unloaded half of the boxes in there.
On his way back to the flat, he couldn't see the steps leading to the entrance and promptly tripped over the last one. With a squeal, he tried to find his balance and not drop the box, when firm hands grabbed his waist from behind to steady him. Harry instinctively leaned into the touch, adjusting the box in his arms.
"You okay?" Louis asked quietly. "Should I take it?"
Harry felt himself blush and shook his head without turning to Louis. "I'm good. Thank you."
Louis pulled his hands away and Harry rushed inside. He set the box down with a groan and sat down on the floor.
"What is all that stuff? You'll never be able to store all of it away in this tiny flat."
Liam laughed. "It's actually not a lot. You'll see it'll fit in here."
When they were almost finished unloading the van, Zayn finally showed up.
"Oh, now you show up," Louis snarled.
"The rest of the boxes are for you to carry inside," Niall told him.
"Don't you dare play the boyfriend card," Harry warned.
Zayn just grinned and pulled Liam closer by the collar of his chequered shirt to kiss him. "You're all sweaty," he noticed when he pulled away.
Liam shrugged, having the decency to look apologetic about it. "Been lifting heavy weights."
"That's kinda hot," Zayn replied, resting a hand over Liam's chest.
Louis, Niall and Harry groaned in annoyance.
After they had finally all of the boxes and furniture inside, Liam closed the door. Harry was in charge of all boxes labelled kitchen , so he opened them and started sorting everything into the cupboards. The kitchen and the bathroom were the only two rooms in Liam's flat that had come furnished, so Harry considered himself lucky.
Niall and Louis were busy putting up a wardrobe in the bedroom while Zayn and Liam put together furniture in the living room. Harry kept checking on those two every now and then to make sure they were really working and not snogging instead. They were actually working quite well together, as Harry could observe, while everything he heard from the bedroom were loud noises that culminated in Louis yelling "For God's sake, Niall!".
"I'm starving," Niall announced once it was dark outside and they had put up all of the furniture Liam had brought.
"Let's order pizza," Liam suggested, taking out his phone. "What do you want?"
They ended up ordering pizza, Chinese, as well as Indian food, and Zayn and Louis offered to run down to Tescos to get them beer. Harry watched them leave together, chatting about some film they had recently seen in the theatre.
"You okay?" Liam asked when Zayn and Louis had left the flat.
"Yeah." Harry quickly turned away, getting back to the kitchen. "Of course."
Liam and Niall followed him.
"So, I've put plates in this cupboard," Harry explained for Liam, opening a door. "And cups and glasses in this one. Then, I thought it'd be most practical---"
"Harry," Liam interrupted him softly.
Taking out five plates, Harry refused to turn to him.
Liam was persistent, though. "Can you handle it?"
Sighing, Harry took out cutlery. "Of course I can."
"You've been looking at him like a beat-up puppy all day, mate," Niall pointed out as he sat down on one of the chairs.
"I have not." Harry felt the pout form on his lips. He was aware that Niall was probably right.
Liam hummed. "He's been looking at you the same way, if that makes it any better for you."
When there was nothing else to prepare, Harry finally turned around to them, gripping the work counter tightly. "We have to get used to this first."
Niall lifted a brow. He rested his elbows on the table to support his chin. "Get used to what?"
What exactly? Harry didn't know either. He made a vague gesture. "You know-- Having a past."
"Having a past," Liam repeated dumbly. "That's putting it very mildly."
Harry just shrugged.
"Louis wouldn't talk about it," Niall then said. "He said he didn't know if you were okay with us knowing."
"That's very considerate of him," Harry said. Somehow, it didn't surprise him that Louis hadn't said anything.
"Harry," Liam groaned, rolling his eyes. "What did you guys agree on? We need to know if you want us to not mess it up for you."
Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I told him that I want the whole truth. I want to know everything, and I want to try and relearn all the things I forgot. Which would include him."
"As in a relationship?" Niall asked, stunned.
"No," Harry retorted immediately. "As in, I want to get to know him. I don't think I've been acting with a clear mind when I got to meet him. I wanna know if that's just something my body remembers, or if I'm really attracted to him."
Liam and Niall stared at him for a bit, not saying a word.
"Oh God," Liam breathed out then.
"That's gonna kill him," Niall added.
"What?" Harry's jaw dropped. "That's the only fair thing to do for both of us!"
"For you, Harry, because you can actually start from zero." Liam plopped down onto the chair next to Niall. "Louis can't just do that."
"Well, he could do that well enough up until Thursday, couldn't he?" Harry asked. "Or what was it he was doing when he pretended he had never met me before?"
"That was different, Haz." Niall shook his head. "A completely different situation."
"Well." Harry knew he was stubborn, but he needed to be exactly like that right now, or else he wouldn't ever come to understand a single thing that was going on in his life. "Maybe I'm not even the person who he thinks he's in love with anymore."
Niall seemed to consider it seriously, but Liam snorted out a laugh.
"What?" Harry asked, not sure he really wanted to know.
"You probably really have to get to really know Louis first," Liam just said, a fond smile on his lips. "Or else you would never say anything like that."
"What's that supposed to---" Harry started to ask, but shut his mouth when the front door opened and Zayn and Louis came back in.
Harry watched Louis as he put several cans of beer in the fridge, then he pulled a bottle of WKD out of the bag. He turned to Harry, holding it out for him.
"I saw you drink that one at the bar the other night."
Harry took the bottle, the glass cold and wet against his palms. "I did."
"There's more than enough beer, though, if you'd rather like one," Louis immediately offered with a sheepish shrug.
"This is fine for starters," Harry said, shaking his head. "Thanks."
Louis nodded briefly, turning away again. "Sure."
Harry stayed, staring at the bottle in his hands when Louis, Niall and Zayn disappeared to the living room. He heard the telly being switched on, and with a frown, he opened the bottle.
"Only the Indian is still missing," Liam said when he came back in. He put the bags on the work counter and then lifted a brow when he noticed the bottle in Harry's hand. "Are you sure you don't remember a thing?"
Harry looked up, blinking at him. "Why?"
Liam pointed at the bottle WKD. "You got one at the bar, too. I haven't seen you drinking that in ages."
"I don't even like it very much," Harry said.
"Then why did you get it?" Liam tilted his head.
Harry frowned harder, trying to make sense of it. "At the bar, I just... it just came to my mind?"
"Did Louis buy you this one?" Liam smiled.
"Yeah," Harry replied. "Is there any significance to it?"
"Well, there is, actually." When Harry looked at him with wide eyes, Liam got a beer for himself. "You used to buy that stuff because you said it reminded you of the colour of Louis' eyes."
Harry looked down at the bottle in his hand, blinking. "I don't remember that."
Liam hummed, opening the food cartons. "You gave both of us a bit of a scare on Tuesday when you ordered it."
"Do you think---" Harry looked up at Liam, but he didn't dare say the words out loud.
"That you remember?" Liam shrugged. "In a way, Harry. The way you remembered that you want Louis and didn't give up until you had him. Yeah."
Letting that sink in, he followed Liam to the living room.
Zayn and Louis sat next to each other on the floor, fighting over the remote. Niall was on his mobile, typing something. Harry sat down next to Liam and helped him fill the plates with food.
They finally settled on The Fresh Prince of Bel Air and their pizzas had almost turned cold. The Indian food arrived and Harry went to the door to get it.
"I'll just stick to pizza," Louis announced when Harry opened the food boxes.
"Don't you like Indian food?" Harry asked while filling up Zayn's plate.
Louis spoke with his mouth full. "Not very much, no."
"There's this really authentic Indian restaurant not too far from Green Park, actually." Harry didn't bother adding the rest of the food to his plate, but ate straight from the box. "Oh, and then there's one near Piccadilly. That may be a bit far for your lunch, but maybe, we could---"
Stopping himself, he looked up and found all four stare at him.
"I mean. All of us," he gestured at them, not meeting Louis' eye. "We could go there some time."
Niall snickered, and Harry concentrated on his food, trying to ignore the burn in his cheeks.
He had fallen into old patterns. For a moment, he had actually forgot what had happened, and that Louis wasn't the boy he wanted to get in bed anymore. He had got Louis laid already. Suppressing a moan, Harry banned the thoughts from his mind.
They fell into easy conversations and light banter. Niall teased Louis for not being able to eat spicy food, and Zayn teased Niall for calling the fake Indian food they had spicy . Liam laughed at everything, while one of his hands rested on Zayn's thigh, and he looked content to be exactly where he was.
And Louis. Harry kept his eyes on Louis for a moment. He got all defensive when being called out, and he always had a comeback. When he caught Harry staring at him, he blushed and quickly looked away.
"When are we gonna have to be here tomorrow to finish this up?" Niall asked, yawning.
"Not too late, so we get done sometime before midnight," Louis mumbled, looking tired, as well. Harry noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes and wondered if Louis had had trouble sleeping. He couldn't stop the feeling of guilt rising in him.
"I don't have to go, right?" Zayn asked, shifting closer to Liam. "I don't wanna go all the way home."
Liam shook his head and kissed Zayn's jaw.
"Your way home is the shortest," Harry complained.
"Can't we just all stay here?" Niall sprawled out on the floor, whining.
"Actually," Liam said, apparently considering Niall's plea in earnest, "We haven't put up the beds, so we could take both mattresses from my bed and the one for my guest room and sleep on them here in the living room."
"Really?" Niall looked thrilled. "Can we do that, please?"
He followed Liam to the bedroom and they got started on setting everything up. Zayn was collecting blankets from the boxes, as Harry sat by, worrying his lip between thumb and forefinger.
"Hey." Louis was in his space all of a sudden, looking serious. "I can take you home, if you want."
Harry blinked up at him, trying to ignore the way his skin prickled. "Are you staying?"
Smiling sadly, Louis shrugged. "I can leave, so you can stay."
"No." Harry rushed out the word. Louis had completely misunderstood him. "That's not what I meant. If you're all staying, then I wanna stay, too."
Nodding, Louis got up from the floor. "Guess we're all staying then."
Harry followed him suit and helped pushing boxes to the wall to make space. Niall and Liam brought in both mattresses and Zayn covered them with blankets before he flopped down onto one.
"I'm gonna sleep here," he announced, patting the space next to him. "Farthest away from the door."
"Are you scared?" Louis teased.
Zayn poked out his tongue. "When a killer comes in tonight, he'll kill you first."
Shaking his head, Harry picked up the dishes and brought them into the kitchen. When he came back, Niall was already dressed down to his boxers and Liam and Zayn were gone. Louis had taken off his t-shirt and Harry tried to look anywhere but at him.
His fingertips tingled with the ache to touch Louis' skin again. The ink of his tattoos had felt rough under Harry's hands, and his skin had been smooth and warm, and his body solid and soft against Harry's when Louis had held him close.
"I hope you didn't do anything inappropriate in there," Niall said when Liam and Zayn came back from the bathroom.
Liam rolled his eyes, but didn't reply.
Eventually, Harry was last to use the bathroom, and when he came back, the others were already lying down, blankets spread over them. For a moment, Harry hesitated as he took the arrangement in. Zayn was closest to the wall with Liam next to him. There was some space between Niall and Liam, as well as next to Louis who lay closest to the door.
Harry's heart jumped slightly when his gaze met Louis'. For a second, time was suspended, and it was only them and the memory of the last time they had spent a night together. Louis looked like he wanted to say something, but Harry beat him to it.
"Budge over, Niall," he said, gesturing for Niall to move closer to Louis. "I wanna sleep in the middle."
Niall shifted and made enough space for Harry to fit in between Niall and Liam. His heart was still racing, as if it was hoping for Louis to protest and insist on Harry sleeping in his arms.
"No funny business over there," Louis warned instead, not commenting on Harry's decision.
"As if I'd get it up with you in the room," Liam shot back.
They switched off the lights, and Harry listened to Niall's breathing evening out. On his other side, Liam had curled around Zayn, his back to Harry. Louis was tossing a little, obviously having trouble getting comfortable.
Biting his lip, Harry stared at the ceiling in the darkness. An occasional light from outside lit up the room every now and then, but no one else seemed to be disturbed by it.
When Niall started snoring, Harry shut his eyes and forced sleep to come.
+++
Dim morning light was falling through the windows, hitting Louis in the face. He blinked slowly, deciding that his eyes couldn't adjust, so he buried his face in Harry's curls. Inhaling, he snuggled closer, pulling Harry closer to his chest with the arm slung around Harry's waist. Harry moved the hand that was sprawled out over Louis' stomach up to his chest.
Louis' eyes flew open and he had to suppress a squeak. He looked down on himself in shock. While he was on his back, Harry lay half on top of him, a leg between Louis', his head on Louis' shoulder and one hand over Louis' heart. He was still peacefully sleeping.
"Oh fuck," Louis breathed, frozen in place. He didn't dare move in case that would wake Harry up.
"It was all him, if that's any consolation to you."
Looking up, Louis saw that Zayn was awake, too. He had sat up and was on his mobile. Liam was sleeping next to him, one arm thrown over Zayn's lap, his face squished against Zayn's hip. Niall was in the middle, laying on his stomach and still sleeping soundly.
"He obviously took advantage of you there," Zayn commented and gestured at Harry. "Whichever way he did it."
Louis hummed, not sure what to do with his hands. Zayn chuckled, but kept his eyes on his mobile phone. That didn't help Louis at all because he had no idea if he should gently push Harry away or if he should slip out of bed, or if it would be best to just stay where he was.
Harry sighed in his sleep and nuzzled closer, nosing at Louis neck. Louis closed his eyes, willing his heartbeat to slow down. His skin was burning with Harry's touch and his stomach fluttered each time Harry exhaled softly against his skin.
Liam was next to wake up. He sat up and stretched, dropping a kiss onto Zayn's shoulder. When he turned his head, he looked unimpressed upon seeing Harry snuggled against Louis.
"You guys are unbelievable," he commented, voice low as not to wake Harry and Niall.
"I didn't do anything," Louis protested.
"You're not sad about it either." Liam winked, which made his accusation playful.
Not that Louis could deny that.
Liam got up from their makeshift bed and startled Niall awake in the process. He groaned and rolled onto his back, sprawling out a bit. After a moment, he looked over at Louis and Harry and laughed dryly.
"That little fucker," he rasped out. "You just go for a wee and he takes your spot."
Zayn snorted. "Why? Did you wanna cuddle up to Louis?"
"Maybe I did," Niall said, poking out his tongue. "I swear I was only gone for two minutes, but he immediately glued himself to Tommo."
Louis felt himself blush. "I should get up before he wakes up."
"Or you could enjoy this for a bit longer." Zayn shrugged. "He's had a tough week and could use some sleep."
"I'm not innocent he's had it rough," Louis murmured.
Niall snorted. "Sorry, that was kinda ambiguous."
Rolling his eyes, Louis brought one hand up into Harry's hair, gently playing with the curls. "You're an idiot."
"Are you saying?" Niall wiggled his eyebrows.
Louis was about to reply when Harry stirred. He inhaled deeply and snuggled even closer, his hand slowly sliding down Louis' torso. His lashes tickled Louis' skin when Harry blinked open his eyes.
There was a moment of blissful morning glory when Harry rested his hand on Louis' stomach and rubbed his nose against Louis' neck, but it was gone the next second. Harry gasped and pulled away, jolting back as if he had burned himself.
Louis let go of him, holding his hands up in defence and they stared at each other for a moment.
"What the hell are you--"
"Good morning to you, too, Hazza," Niall said, interrupting Harry that way.
Harry turned to him with big eyes and flushed cheeks. "I---"
"You stole my place tonight when I went for a wee." Niall smacked him on the arm. "Couldn't wait for an opening, could you?"
Harry frowned at him, then glanced at Louis. "I don't remember that."
"That one gets a bit old," Zayn commented and Niall chuckled.
Harry gasped and Louis was about to tell them off for their terrible timing. The wound was still too fresh to make fun of it. However, Harry fell into Niall's chuckling after a moment and Louis relaxed.
"That's not funny,"  Harry complained.
"It kinda is," Liam said from the door. He had a box of cereal under one arm, bowls and milk in his hands. "Anyone hungry?"
While Niall and Zayn got up to help Liam set up the table in front of the TV, Harry turned back to Louis. He held Louis back with a hand on his arm, eyes looking sincere.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't-- I couldn't-- it just kinda happened."
Louis swallowed around the lump in his throat. "It's fine, Harry. No harm done."
Nothing was fine . Louis' body already ached with how much he wanted to pull Harry back against his side. He knew he couldn't. He knew he wasn't allowed.
Harry watched him intently, a little frown between his eyebrows, but then nodded softly. He got up eventually, joining the others. Louis needed a moment longer, composing himself.
When he eventually joined them, he sat next to Zayn and furthest away from Harry. 
+++
"Harry!" Someone yelled, and Harry couldn't even tell where it was coming from. He just grunted to signal that he listened and kept his eyes on the pan where he was preparing a pasta dish.
The weekend had been odd. Harry still wasn't sure how he felt about it. Granted, the night at Liam's flat had been the only night he had slept decently -- and he was well aware why. Niall hadn't let him live it down for a moment. He had teased Harry for the rest of the day, up until they had made it back home.
That's where Harry had started to become restless.
With everything that had happened over the past week, he felt emotionally and physically drained. He couldn't sleep, and his mind was constantly occupied with questions and images that he imagined to be memories.
Harry knew well enough that they weren't. Yet, being in his flat and looking at the pictures he had hung from the years he had lost, he couldn't stop himself from making up scenarios of what had really happened in those pictures. Maybe he had been with Louis in some of them. Maybe Louis had even taken some of those pictures.
That didn't make looking at those pictures any easier, though. Ever since finding out, looking at them made the anger in Harry's chest well up again. He had always thought he'd brought that part of his life back as best as he could. It wasn't easy to accept that everything he had believed to be true had been nothing but lies.
He wondered how much of what he had been told was even true.
"Harry!" his name was repeated, and Harry jumped a little.
Looking up, he found his boss, Margaret, standing right in front of his niche. Andrew was next to her, giving Harry a look that was a clear warning to prepare himself.
"Sorry," Harry said, cleaning his hands on a towel. "I was-- well, working."
"Come with me," Margaret simply said and went outside into the dining room.
"Babs?" Harry simply asked as he followed her and gestured at his pans and pots.
She nodded. "I'll take over."
"What's going on?" Harry whispered to Andrew before he went out of the kitchen.
"There's a critic," he whispered back. "Undercover."
Harry bit his lip and quickly went after his boss. He saw her go into one of the offices at the back and followed. Inside, a man was sitting in front of Margaret's desk, scribbling into a notebook.
"Sorry to make you wait," Margaret said as she sat down across from him.
Harry closed the door and stayed where he was.
"That's the chef who was cooking tonight?" the man asked without even looking at Harry.
"We have several chefs in the kitchen, but it appears that Mr Styles here was the one preparing your dish, yes." Margaret glanced at Harry briefly, her gaze stone cold.
"How long's he been working here?"
"Harry's still quite new." Margaret gestured at him. "Three or four months."
Harry nodded.
"You're not per se bad," the man said, turning to Harry now. "Tonight's dish wasn't excellent, I have to say."
Harry clenched his teeth, lowering his head. He nodded again. "I'm sorry."
"You're still quite young, too. Maybe a training abroad could help you."
"I had a year of training in France," Harry replied.
"Oh." The man lifted a brow. "You had?"
"When I was seventeen, after I had left school."
The man hummed. "I see. That's a while ago. Where did you work before?"
Harry bit his lip. "I learned in a restaurant in Manchester."
"Ten years?" The man asked.
"This is my first proper job, yes," Harry deflected the question.
Turning back around to Margaret, the man hummed. "So he's your least experienced and trained chef?"
"He is," Margaret confirmed. "He's been showing good potential so far."
"Good potential is not enough." The man got up and shook Margaret's hand. "We need people who are on point. Someone ambitious."
Harry opened his mouth, but didn't get a word in.
"Sorry, kid, but someone who took that long for training?" The man shook his Harry's hand, too. "Already says enough."
With that, he left the room and Harry stared after him, not sure what exactly had just happened.
"They're looking for a young chef to build a new brand," Margaret explained when she suddenly appeared next to him. "And today of all days you have a bad day."
"I'm sorry," Harry said because he had no idea what else to say.
"Don't tell me that," Margaret told him, patting his shoulder. "It's not my chance wasted. It's yours, Harry."
Harry stared at her for a moment, and she gave him a sympathetic smile before she sent him off. He frowned and left the office, wondering what had just happened to him. Had there been someone interested in having Harry as the sole chef for one of their restaurants? And had Harry mucked it all up by being a miserable sod for the last week?
He hadn't put all of his energy and heart and focus into his job. His mind had been occupied with his private tragedies and his heart had been occupied by Louis.
Harry stopped, frowning to himself.
He couldn't do what he loved because he wasn't sure anymore what it was that he loved. He had always thought he knew his heart, but now it was betraying him. It wasn't just his body that longed for Louis. His heart did, too, and it had from the second Harry had met Louis.
"Mate," Zayn said as he approached Harry. "Are you all right?"
Harry blinked at him, realising that he had stopped in the middle of the dining room. He nodded his head. "I gotta get back to work."
Zayn didn't look convinced, but Harry quickly walked back to the kitchen. He couldn't allow himself to think about what had just happened. He just couldn't .
There was time to think later. Right now, Harry had to work.
+++
On his way home, Harry had missed his stop. He had been lost in his thoughts, lost in self-doubt and pity. He had mucked up a great opportunity for his career, and maybe a chance like that wouldn't present itself that soon again. Maybe he'd be stuck at Pierre's forever.
Maybe his dream of becoming a star chef in his own restaurant wouldn't ever come true.
He had walked that one stop back home and when he finally arrived, Niall was already meeting him in the floor.
"Harry." He looked bewildered. "Mate, did you lose your phone?"
Harry raised his brows and shook his head. "No. Why?"
"I've been trying to call you for over an hour." Niall grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled him along. "You're in trouble, man."
Upon approaching their flats, Harry saw that the door to his flat was open. Niall's was open, too, but a man came out of Harry's, talking on the phone.
"What is going on?" Harry asked, suddenly alarmed.
"There's a leak in the flat above yours." Niall stopped in the door frame to Harry's flat. "This looks bad, mate."
It did. The first thing harry noticed was that there were pictures coming off his wall. They were drained in water. It was running down from the ceiling, pooling around Harry's bed. The furniture and sheets were completely soaked.
"I called the landlord," Niall told him, touching Harry's arm. "He's already on it. They're gonna fix this."
"How," was the only thing Harry managed to croak out. "My stuff."
"I hope you don't mind, but I couldn't reach you and--" Niall shrugged. He pointed at his flat with his thumb. "I just took whatever I could and brought it over to mine."
Harry blinked at him. "What?"
"Your laptop and most of your shoes." Niall bit his lip. "Everything that could be ruined. Like your clothes?"
Niall's voice sounded more insecure with every word. Harry dove in to hug him, pulling Niall close against himself. "Thanks, Niall."
"Okay." Niall patted his back. "You can stay at mine, of course. You need a place to sleep, right?"
Harry sniffed, trying to accept that this day had just turned even worse, and that Niall was the only ray of light he had seen today. What would Harry do without him?
"Mr Styles?" someone said, and Harry let go of Niall to turn around and face the man he had met when he had rented the flat. "I'm sorry for the inconveniences. A plumber was here just a few moments ago, and they're working on solving the issue."
"Will I have to move out?" Harry asked the first thing that came to his mind.
His landlord shook his head. "I hope it won't take too long to fix. The flat above yours will have to be fixed, too. It may take some time."
"He can stay at mine," Niall immediately said. "If you don't have any options for him."
The landlord made a bit of a face. "It's not ideal, but, to be honest, I don't have any other option. If you can't stay with family or friends for the time being, I wouldn't know how to solve this. Of course you won't have to pay rent for the time the flat isn't usable."
Harry nodded, trying to process any of it. He just wanted to lay down and sleep. Forget all of this. "Okay."
"I'll call you as soon as I have an update from the plumber."
Niall touched Harry's arm as the landlord went back upstairs. "See. He's not too bad. He's pretty fair about this."
Harry's head already hurt from the nodding. "Yeah. Um. I just--- Fuck. I really don't need this right now."
"Who's ever in need of their flat being flooded?" Niall asked, making Harry smile a little.
"Come on," Niall urged Harry to turn around and follow him. "I'll make you some tea."
Harry shuffled his feet behind Niall, running a hand over his face.
He had no idea what he had done to deserve this. He understood even less now how he was supposed to get things back to normal. Within a week everything had gone downhill so fast, and today had been the absolute icing on the cake.
Everything was going wrong, and Harry had no idea how to fix any of it.
+++
Blinking slowly, Louis tried to concentrate on the file in front of him. He took a yellow textmarker and underlined the call he'd been looking for. He'd only have to find the same number in seven more files and then, he could probably use those to build a case.
The ten files he had taken home he could have done in the office, too. Cecilia had practically forced Louis to go home, though. It had been pure luck she'd been distracted for a minute so Louis could have grabbed those files before leaving.
He really couldn't stand the way she looked at him these days anymore. It made him feel like he was about to die, and she knew, and thus, she sighed each time she saw him, stunned by her own powerlessness.
Yes, he was suffering, but Louis thought he really was holding up well. He kept his glum moods for lonely nights like this, when he was all alone and no one saw how much he was really hurting.
Harry hadn't shown himself since the weekend. Even though he had said he wanted to keep Louis in his life, Louis knew that he couldn't keep that up. It wasn't easy for Harry, especially because it was so clear how confused he felt around Louis. It was probably scary for Harry, and Louis couldn't blame him for running away from that.
It didn't matter that this was the worst that could have happened to Louis. He had had Harry back in his life, for just a brief second, for a blissful fraction of eternity. It was like a drug that Louis had never managed to get clean from, a drug where only a single drop could make Louis addicted again.
And he'd had so much more than a drop. He'd had way too much, and going without it again was the hardest obstacle to overcome.
Louis had learned it once. He would learn it again.
The numbers on the papers in file number six were blurring together and Louis sighed, rubbing his eyes. He should probably turn on more than one small light. Or he should really take Cecilia's advice and go to bed.
The doorbell made him jump, and Louis stared at the kitchen door for a second, perplex and wondering if he had dreamt that. He sat like that for several seconds, maybe even a minute, then the bell rang again.
Getting up from his sofa, Louis went to open the front door. He had stripped out of his suit and had put on shorts and a t-shirt in the wise foresight that he might fall asleep while working.
When he saw Harry on the other side of the door, his heart sank to his stomach.
"I'm sorry," Harry said immediately. He was pale, and looked tired, and his hair was an absolute mess. He was fidgeting with his jacket. "I'm sorry for showing up like this."
Louis just stood frozen, staring at him.
"I just--" Harry ran a hand over his face, looking small with his shoulders hunched. "I had the worst day, and I just wanted to go home, but I have no idea anymore where home even is and the only place I could think of was you." He glanced up, looking awfully sincere. "I just wanted to see you."
"Haz," Louis breathed out, and the next thing he knew was that Harry was in his space, wrapping himself around Louis.
Harry buried his face against Louis' neck and breathed in deeply, sighing as he breathed out. "I'm sorry," he repeated quietly. "Just give me a second, and I'll be gone again."
As if Louis could let him go. Immediately, Louis wound his arms around Harry's shoulders and held him close, lips pressing against Harry's temple. "It's okay."
"I know I shouldn't be here," Harry went on as if Louis hadn't said a thing.
"Harry." Louis reached out to close the door. "Come on. You should sit down."
Harry nodded, but he didn't let go of Louis when they walked over to the living room. He kept his arm slung around Louis' waist and only let go when they reached the sofa. Louis hesitated for a moment, but then sat down next to Harry. He turned his body towards Harry and took some time to have a closer look.
Harry didn't just look tired. He looked like he was about to cry, and Louis had a vague idea what this was. It had come down to what Louis had tried to prevent. All of this had been too much for Harry.
"Tell me about it."
Harry glanced up at him and folded his hands in his lap. "I think I may be having a breakdown after all."
"Maybe it'd be best for you to go home. To your mum's," Louis clarified.
Harry shook his head. "No. That didn't feel right. I felt more out of place there than here. It--- that place isn't the same anymore, you know?"
Louis nodded, just because. He actually had no idea what Harry meant.
"It's always been the only place where nothing had changed," Harry explained, moving his hands around. "But that wasn't true. Everything had changed around there, too. I just didn't know. No one told me."
Biting his lip, Louis lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry."
Harry groaned, burying his face in his hands. "God, my life's such a mess."
"And it's my fault," Louis tagged on.
For a moment, Harry was quiet. Then he reached out to touch Louis' leg. "I don't know about that. Right now, the only thing that doesn't feel completely wrong and alien to me is you."
Louis' breath hitched, and he fisted his hands to keep from reaching out. "Don't say that."
Harry shifted closer, up into Louis' space until their chests were touching. "I had the worst day, and I thought a cuppa at Niall's would make it better, but before I could even think about it or understand what it was, I was on my way here. I want you to make me feel better."
It was like invisible strings on Louis' arms pulled him towards Harry, and Louis did everything he could to work against them. "Harry..."
"Come on, Lou." Harry leaned in, lips brushing over Louis' jaw. "Make me feel better."
The touch made Louis' defence crumble down. He tilted his head and his lips found Harry's in a languid, warm kiss. He slowly opened up Harry's mouth, so their tongues met and felt each other out. Harry sighed and let his hand slide higher up Louis' thigh. He deepened the kiss even more, and pushed Louis back to crawl on top of him.
"Wait," Louis croaked out in a flash of consciousness. "Harry, wait."
Harry pulled back, licking his lips, his eyes glued to Louis'.
"Baby, we gotta slow this down." Louis ran a hand into Harry's hair, gently running his hand over the scar hidden there to keep his mind focused on what this was about. "Speed Racer," he added with a smile.
Harry huffed out a small laugh, but seemed to react to that. "I don't wanna think."
Louis nodded, shifting around, until they were both lying comfortably on the sofa. Harry lay on top of Louis, their legs tangled and Harry's head bedded on Louis' shoulder while Louis played with his hair.
"I know, baby," Louis mumbled. "But this is not really what you want."
"It is," Harry protested.
"For the moment," Louis allowed. He cleared his throat and kept soothing Harry by playing with his hair. "What if I told you that playing with your hair has always worked to make you comply to what I want?"
Harry tensed a little. "I'd think you use your knowledge about me to get what you want."
"Right." Louis inhaled, slinging his other arm around Harry's middle. "That's still a thing, Harry. I know you better than you know me, and that's not fair to you."
Staying mum, Harry snuggled a little closer.
"Tell me about your bad day," Louis murmured. "Why was it so bad?"
"I haven't slept," Harry started. "At least not very well. Since-- you know. Saturday night."
Louis hummed. "Me neither."
"There was a scout or critic at the restaurant today." Sighing, Harry gently tapped his fingers against Louis' sides. "I haven't figured. He said my cooking wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough."
"For what?" Louis wanted to know.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. My boss said that bloke was looking for a chef for a new franchise."
"And what was wrong with your cooking?"
"The problem is what I've done so far." Harry stopped the tapping. "That I didn't finish my training in time. He said it shows that I'm not ambitious enough."
Louis wasn't sure what it meant, but after a moment, he realised what Harry was on about. "That wasn't your fault, though."
"Does it even matter?" Harry asked. "People will read my vitae and think I needed that long for my training. That I couldn't do it, and needed extra time to get through."
"Or they could just ask," Louis supplied. "It's stupid to make a decision based on that alone. He didn't even take the time to get to know you, or let you explain."
Harry was quiet, and after a few minutes, Louis thought he had probably fallen asleep. His breathing had evened out and his fingers had slid from Louis' sides. After a while, though, Harry sighed. "Would you hire someone who has a vitae like that? Wouldn't you think there's trouble in store?"
Pressing his lips together, Louis shrugged lightly. "I can't say I wouldn't see it as a negative sign. I would take the time to find out what it's about, though." He framed Harry's face and forced him to look at Louis. "Your case is special, Harry. What you've done was brave. You could have given up, but you had the courage to start again and relearn what you've lost."
Harry bit his lip, blushing. "Thank you."
Humming, Louis leaned in to kiss his forehead. "You'll be fine, baby."
With a nudge, Harry managed to bring his chin up, so his lips slid across Louis' chin. Both of them stilled for a moment, ther mouths just inches apart. Harry's gaze flickered up to Louis' for a second.
"Sorry," Louis managed to breathe out, ignoring his heart racing in his chest. "I shouldn't call you that."
"Did you always call me baby?" Harry spoke quietly, as if they were sharing a secret. Maybe they were.
"I did," Louis replied, brushing a curl from Harry's temple.
"Lou." Harry kept his eyes on Louis', using his forearms to lift himself up a little. "Tell me about that time. Tell me about the person I was."
Louis' heart ached from hearing those words. Harry asked impossible things of him. He'd need a lifetime to tell Harry about every shared moment -- he couldn't leave out a single one. There was nothing that had happened between them that seemed insignificant.
"You stole my drink when we met the first time," Louis started, feeling a smile tug at his lips. "You made me guess your name. I guessed Harry, then Ed. Which--" Louis laughed quietly. "I should have played the lottery that day."
Harry smiled, too, apparently content with the story. "Did Liam try to set us up?"
Louis' smile died. "Um-- no. I actually met Liam through you."
"I thought that'd probably been a lie." Harry hummed and shook his head when Louis opened his mouth to apologise. "Who asked for the first date?"
"Me," Louis answered. "Kinda. You owed me a drink. I won the name guessing, but you had to catch your bus, so we met again the next night."
"Did we fall in love as fast as we did this time around?" Harry wanted to know.
Louis' heart dropped down to his knees. His hands stopped running along Harry's sides.
"Just answer the question," Harry demanded, in a soft voice. "Keep telling me about us."
"I was in love with you from the first minute," Louis said, blinking slowly as he held Harry's gaze. "And I knew I wanted you to be my boyfriend when you cooked for me the first time."
Harry frowned sightly. "Was it hard to convince me of that?"
Louis shook his head. "Not at all. We've been on the same page all the way."
"Did we--" Harry bit his lip, his cheeks turning a little red. "I wasn't very experienced."
"I wasn't either," Louis said, feeling his cheeks burning a little, too. "We were never actually shy around each other, though. We were good at communicating what we wanted. We were comfortable with each other."
"We," Harry repeated slowly, as if he was testing out the word. "We tried a lot, didn't we?"
Louis shrugged. Having Harry on top of him while discussing the issue really wasn't helping. "Everything we were comfortable with."
"Was there anything we weren't comfortable with?" Harry's voice had dropped to a breathy whisper.
"Not really." Louis's throat felt like he was being strangled.
Harry was staring again, and Louis started to squirm under his gaze. His blood ran like warm honey through his veins, slow and slick.
"I didn't wanna come here," Harry said after a moment. "I didn't wanna give in."
Louis nodded, even though he wasn't sure what Harry meant.
"Being with you is the only thing that feels right, though." Sighing, Harry rested his head back on Louis' chest. "Even though you're the cause for the mess I'm in."
"I know," Louis mumbled.
Harry hummed. "I wanted to keep my distance, but it's so hard to do."
Huffing out a dry laugh, Louis shifted underneath Harry. "Tell me about it."
"Sorry for making this weird," Harry immediately said. "I know that I'm making it harder on you by coming here."
"It's harder to not have you at all." The words were out before Louis could have thought about them. "I mean--"
"No," Harry cut in, running his lips over Louis' neck. "I can only imagine what it must be like to you."
Louis closed his eyes. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."
Harry stilled. He pulled back slowly, then sat up, so he was straddling Louis. Licking his lips, he ran his hands down Louis' chest. "I think I do."
"Fuck," Louis breathed out when he opened his eyes and saw Harry looming above him like a vision. His eyes were cloudy and his lips were bitten pink.
"Will you let me stay the night?" Harry asked.
Louis whined. "You want me dead."
Harry smiled and leaned in enough to brush his lips over Louis'. "No funny business, I promise. But Niall's floor is uncomfortable."
Louis frowned at him. "Niall's floor?"
"There was a pipe break in the flat above mine. I can't stay in my flat tonight." Harry shrugged helplessly. "My bed's flooded."
Sitting up, Louis rested his hands on Harry's thighs to slide out from underneath him. "And you plan on staying with Niall until they've sorted it out?"
Harry nodded. "He offered."
For a second, Louis considered what he was about to say. It probably wasn't helping their case. "I have a guest room."
"What?" Harry didn't seem to follow immediately, but then his eyes widened and he lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. "No, Lou, that's not what I had in mind when I came here."
"Calm down." Louis patted Harry's knee. "I know you hadn't. It still stands. You need a place to stay, and I have a guest room. Also, my place is quite close to Pierre's."
Harry pressed his lips together. "I'm not sure we'll be able to handle that." He gestured between them. "How likely is it that we'll end up like tonight again?"
Louis still felt the arousal from having Harry in his arms again. "If you're uncomfortable with it, you can stay with Niall. I'd prefer you stay with Liam, though. He's got a sofa, at least."
"Uncomfortable," Harry repeated. "You said we've never been uncomfortable with each other."
"We haven't," Louis said, trying to shut out the sadness he felt at the thought. "That was another time, though."
"I need to know more." Harry frowned when he looked at Louis directly. "I need to know more about you. More about us."
"I mean, we've got the awkward part about our sex life behind us." Joking was the only way Louis knew how to handle this. "It can only get easier from here."
Harry laughed. "I may have a few more questions about that."
"Please, no," Louis groaned.
"But seriously," Harry went on then. "If I stay, I could learn a bit more about you. About us."
Louis just nodded. He wasn't sure he could give Harry what he wanted, or answer his questions to the extend Harry imagined. Louis could at least try, though.
"Okay," Harry said, nodding firmly. "I'll stay."
Swallowing thickly, Louis got up to keep his hands and mind busy. Just the thought of Harry staying here, in his flat, made his knees wobbly. "You should let Niall know."
When Harry took out his mobile, Louis went out of the living room to get sheets for the guest room. He was halfway done making the bed when Harry came in.
"I can drop by Niall's to pick up some of my stuff tomorrow." He leaned against the doorframe to watch Louis. "My landlord calls me again when they know how long the repair works will take."
"You can stay as long as you want," Louis said without looking at Harry. "It's not like I need the space for someone else."
That hang between them for a second and Louis cursed himself inwardly. Whatever they had was pretty fragile, and could flip around from being this aching desire to be close to each other to spiteful accusations and anger in the next.
"Louis," Harry spoke up after a few moments. "Can I stay with you on the sofa for a little longer tonight?"
Louis turned and put the pillow down. He took in Harry's frame, and remembered why Harry had shown up here in the first place.
"Of course," Louis replied, approaching him. "I gotta finish up going through some files. You can watch telly. Have you eaten at all?"
Harry smiled slightly. "I'm not hungry. Some telly sounds nice, though."
It only took Harry ten minutes to fall asleep after they had settled back on the sofa. He had curled up next to Louis, his head resting against Louis' hip and he was breathing evenly, like a child. Louis patted Harry's hair, trying to focus on his work.
It was odd, but hearing Harry breathe steadily like that had a soothing effect on Louis. He had never paid attention to it before; not when they had been together. Now, however, hearing Harry breathe evenly in his sleep made Louis feel relaxed, too. Harry was right there next to him. Sleeping, safe and sound. Alive.
After a while, Louis gave up on trying to work, switched off the TV and instead lay next to Harry. He wasn't surprised when Harry nuzzled closer and buried his face against Louis' neck. Harry had come here because he had needed someone to hold him, after all.
Not someone. Louis closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Louis; Harry had needed Louis.
With that thought occupying his mind, Louis fell asleep, too.
+++
"I'm not really convinced," Liam repeated as he helped Harry carrying his bags outside.
Harry had asked him to help, mostly because Liam had a car and Harry didn't want to come back to his flat several times to pick up what he needed. Like this, he had packed up everything to take back to Louis' flat. It was only four small bags -- mostly clothes.
"You mentioned that." Harry put the bags he was carrying onto the backseat of Liam's car.
Liam did the same. "That just begs for drama, Harry."
Of course it did. Harry was aware of it.
He had woken up in the morning on Louis' sofa. All Louis had left, had been a note and a key. Harry had had a phantom feeling of being held, and he was almost sure that Louis had spent the night next to Harry, curling around his back. Judging from how well Harry had slept, it was rather likely.
Harry had gone to work and had come to his flat afterwards, so he hadn't seen Louis since last night. It was probably better like that, because seeing Louis just messed with Harry's head.
He knew that he'd been a mess of conflicting feelings last night. He had wanted to be as close as possible to Louis, and at the same time, he had wanted to keep his distance. He had wanted to sleep with Louis - his body had been aching with it. Yet, he knew that Louis was right when he said that they weren't equals, and that he knew things about Harry that Harry probably didn't even know about himself.
Which gave Harry one more reason to stay with Louis. He had a feeling that it would help him finding out more about himself, too.
His biggest reason, however, was to get to know Louis better. Harry couldn't handle feeling that strongly towards a person he hardly knew. It had been different when he had thought Louis was a stranger. Now that he knew that he had known Louis before, every feeling held so much more meaning. It wasn't just blind attraction. What he felt was from another time, had been inside of him for years.
Harry needed to understand those feelings, and where they were coming from. How Louis had brought them to life.
"I need to get to know him better," Harry settled on saying when he slid into the passenger seat.
"You could do that without staying at his flat." Liam started the car.
"It's just---" Harry shrugged. "Last night, I couldn't think of anywhere else to go. I needed him, and no one else. I only started to feel better when I was with him."
Liam threw a short glance at him. "Are you telling me you're in love with him?"
"No," Harry answered immediately. He frowned. "Or..."
"What?" Liam wanted to know.
"Maybe yes." Harry touched his lip, capturing the bottom between forefinger and thumb. "But it's not me, you know? It's that other part of me. That I don't know. I think I am in love with him, but I don't know why ."
Liam kept his eyes on the road. "Did you tell Louis that?"
Harry shook his head. "No."
"You better keep it that way," Liam adviced. "He won't hear any of what you're saying after that part of being in love with him."
"I don't know." Harry let go of his lip. "He seems pretty rational about this whole thing."
Liam laughed dryly. "You have no idea, Haz. He's good at pretending."
Harry blinked at him.
"You'll learn that, too." Liam briefly smiled at him.
When they arrived, Liam helped carrying the bags upstairs. Louis wasn't home yet, even though it was after ten already. Harry told Liam not to worry and send him home, staying back by himself in Louis's flat.
Only after Liam had been gone for a few minutes, did Harry start to feel uncomfortable. What was he supposed to do? Should he stay in his room? Should he make dinner for Louis? Should he just wait in the living room? Was there any place he wasn't allowed to go?
Harry glanced at the door to Louis' bedroom. Of course that one was off limits. Even though Harry had been in there before.
He bit his lip, turning away to go to the living room. He decided to keep himself busy by connecting his mobile to Louis' WiFi and watch some videos until Louis came home.
When he finally did, Harry sat up straight. The front door was falling close and Harry sat there, suspended for several minutes that Louis didn't show himself. After a bit, he came into the living room, looking as smart as ever in a grey suit.
"Hi," he said with a warm smile. "Did you make yourself at home?"
Harry nodded, getting up from the sofa. "I got your WiFi. Is that okay?"
"'Course," Louis replied, loosening his tie. Harry tried not to look too closely at the way he strained his neck while doing so. "I'm pretty knackered, so I think I'll just head to bed."
"Yeah, of course." Harry didn't know what to do with his hands, so he just buried them in the pockets of his jeans. "Should I--- I mean. Um. Is there anything I should know? Like, you know? House rules?"
Louis finally looked at him directly, and his eyes wrinkled when he laughed. "There are no house rules. You can do as you please."
Harry nodded. "All right."
"Hey," Louis said, his smile turning soft. "You don't have to worry, okay? I'll keep my distance."
Watching Louis leave the room, Harry frowned to himself. He wanted to tell Louis that he wasn't concerned about that; that it wasn't an issue. Harry trusted him.
What Harry wasn't so sure of yet was if he even wanted Louis to keep a distance. After last night, Harry wasn't sure that he could keep his distance. Yet, he knew that Louis was right and they had to be rational about this.
It wouldn't work if they didn't approach this thing clear-headed and sober-minded.
It didn't help that all Harry wanted right now was to follow Louis and fall right into his arms.