After the End: Book 3

78. Wash, Rinse, Repeat

Harry's POV

I had no right to be upset. I knew that. It was a long time coming and I found it kind of impossible to deny it. Louis should have hit me years ago. Louis had been hit by me plenty, although it had been a while. More than plenty. He should probably hit me more.

Louis hit harder than I expected. I'd not spent much time in life wondering how hard Louis could hit, but I hadn't expected it to be that hard. His hand was probably sore. When we were teens, I'd tried to teach him how to hit using a punching bag at some random hotel gym and he never held his hand right. I barely knew what I was talking about at the time either.

My face hurt. That was the recurring thought my brain looped in on in the aftermath of Becca forcing me into the car. My jaw hurt, more specifically.

Louis had hit me.

Becca didn't want to talk in the car and I understood why, but I still talked. I told her he hadn't done that before and I told her he only did it because I'd said shit about her. She'd shaken her head. I'd told her Louis wasn't allowed near me if he couldn't keep his hands to himself. I threatened to quit. It was all just bullshit and words.

I'd kicked her out and locked the door after she forced a bag of ice into my hand and demanded I put forth just a bit of effort to prevent bruising. I didn't want to be mothered. I wanted to be angry about the punch I'd basically begged for.

I'd definitely pushed him to do it with the obscene bullshit I'd been spewing. I'd been trying to make him mad. My entire intention had been to push him, but I hadn't for once ever considered he'd actually do it. That's what I was thinking about as I paced alone in the empty living room of my apartment. He'd actually done it.

The living room was extra suffocating at the moment. The mural was extra bright. I hadn't had the energy or the awareness for noticing Lux's things in what felt like a scarily long time. I'd been numbing her out in our own home. It made my chest feel panicky too realize it. I was pacing.

And my jaw throbbed. I was alone in my house that used to have Lux in it and my jaw hurt because Louis had hit me. I'd pushed him to do that.

Louis knocking at the door pulled me out of the cyclic thinking. I knew it was him because he always knocked the same. It was light, like an old man.

"Harry, open the door."

His voice didn't sound angry anymore. He sounded a bit resigned, and maybe a little bit apologetic. I couldn't really tell through the door.

I thought about ignoring him. I was in there dealing with a racing mind and maybe the slightest of panic attacks although I was trying to ignore that and it seemed like a bad time to be fighting with Louis.

"Harry," I heard Becca's voice call. "Please."

If Louis and he were both there, they had a key anyways. I bit my lip hard and strolled to the door with the bag of ice still held up to my face. I focused on how cold it was to distract myself from how infinitely loud my brain was. When I reached the door, I dropped the dead bolt to prevent it from opening the entire way and then unlocked the main lock. As soon as I'd done it, Louis heard. I knew because he grabbed the knob and pushed the door open immediately. The deadbolt did its job, stopping it after just a few inches. It slammed, but the chain held.