Some Say the World Will End in Fire |l.s.|

nineteen

It's the weekend and as relieved as I am for the school week to be over, I've felt bored for the past few hours. I sigh in annoyance, laying in bed as I can feel myself longing to be in Harry's arms. I don't hesitate as I brush my teeth and hair for the first time today, even though it is past noon. I text him that I'm on my way as I get into the car and begin driving. I don't know what it is about Harry, but he is the difference between me laying in bed and feeling bored and laying in bed and being so happy and content.

I make it to his house and see that Harry hasn't answered, and I only pray that he is home at least before I knock on the door. Harry's mum, Anne, opens the door with a sweet smile on her face.

"Hey Louis, how are you?" she asks me sweetly, moving aside as I walk in. 

"Good, how are you?" I ask politely.

"I'm good, thanks love," she says. "Harry's just in his room," she informs me, to which I thank her quietly as I make my way up the stairs. I knock on the door as I open it, not bothering for an answer. Harry told me a long time ago that he couldn't care for the circumstances, and that I was always welcome, and he's proven that to be true ever since.

"Hey Haz," I say as I see him laying on his bed with an arm over his head lazily. He sits up quickly, his eyes red and tear-filled as he forces a surprised smile on his face. He wipes his eyes, blinking away his tears quickly as I he opens his arms for me.

"Lou, hey," he breathes out, his voice slightly groggy. "Wasn't expecting you."

"Harry," I say, suddenly concerned for him in this state. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," he smiles reassuringly, but him and I both know I'm not buying it one bit. Me and him go way back, so of course we can read each other like an open book. "I'm glad to see you, I missed you." I walk over quickly, sitting next to him and putting a hang on his back, rubbing up and down because I know that calms him down when he's upset, though I rarely ever see him show his emotions. He's a very well-kept person, and doesn't get super upset over things unless it really effects him. I always worry for him, for containing his emotions, so when he is upset I instantly worry.

"Babe, you know you can tell me. I'm here for you, always," I reassure him softly.

"I just," he lets out a shaky breath, looking at me as the tears return to his eyes. "I just miss you, so much. I miss how you used to be, before that day," he admits, to which I frown.

"Haz, I'm the same person," I tell him.

"But you're not, Lou," he sighs in frustration. "You're so different. You hardly eat, hardly sleep, you're always sad and sleepy, always anxious. That's not how you used to be. The Louis I fell in love with was so kind, so outgoing. He was loud and energetic, and as annoying as he could be, all I could do was look at you and want to hold you in my arms until we waste away. Now, you're wasting away in my arms a completely different person, and it just hurts to see." I sit there, thinking about all he's said, knowing deep down that he's absolutely right. He'd never love this version of me, the one that can't make him smile like the old me could.

"It'll all be alright, Harry," I try. "I really am getting better, more like my old self by the day. It'll take time but I'll get there. I know I'm different, and I'm sorry, but I don't know if there's anything we can do about it. I really do try, mostly for you, and I'll keep on. I hate seeing you so sad." He smiles slightly, giving my a tight hug and a kiss as we cuddle up close. He falls asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around me, but I stay awake the entire two hours, thinking and replaying in my head all that he said.

I can't believe I haven't noticed before just how unhappy I make him. I'm so bad for him, I can't do anything for him. I can't make him happy the way I used to, and for that all I feel is guilt and self-hatred. I've always known Harry deserves the world, but at least before I got fucked up, I could give him part of that. Now, he's doing everything for me with a sad frown on his face, watching as I grow further and further away from his love. He doesn't love me, I'm so different. He loves the old Louis, the exact person I'm not.

I don't deserve him, I really don't. I think he'd honestly have a better chance of happiness without my problems and sadness dragging him down. It's taking a toll on him I'd never wish upon anyone, and the only solution I can possibly think of right now is to take myself out of the picture. If only it were that easy.