Larry, Actually.

Twenty-One: December 21st

A/N: Wouldn't let me publish this yesterday! Or today, but by some miracle I decided to try again and here it is!

Louis spends the next few  hours preparing to tell his best friend he's in love with him at the instruction of said best friends wife.

Yeah. He's learned not to question the fucking dumpster fire that is his life. 

He takes several hours to try and figure out how the fucking boom box works. It's difficult, ok? He's never used one in his life. 

He also spends a significant amount of time trying to figure out what to write on the cards, and then even more attempting to make his handwriting legible.

Honestly, this is exhausting. Trying to make this thing perfect for Harry. He doesn't want to harm the other man. He's so afraid of what can happen when he confesses his biggest fucking secret to his best friend. 

What if Harry rejects him, what if he casts him from his life without a second thought, and he'll lose the love of his fucking life, and, occasionally, the reason he can still keep going, and his fucking best friend, all in the space of a few fucking seconds. Harry has been there for him through so much. His mothers death. His sisters death. Harry's held his hand through all of this, and even if he never gets the relationship he wants with Harry, if he forever has to stand on the line of 'friendship' and 'boyfriend', he wants Harry in his life. Harry has been there for so much, has talked him out of doing something permanent. Harry has been his rock for so long, and he just couldn't cope. He couldn't lose Harry too. 

Because if he loses Harry, then. Then.

Then he won't have someone to hold him back. Then he won't have someone to stop him. Then he'll do the irreversible.

Here's the thing. He and Harry never talk about it, but it's always something that's there. It's always something that's lingering in the back of his mind. Harry's too. They both know that if Louis wanted, he could talk to Harry about it, and Harry, every time he says he's there for Louis, always has a double meaning, it always has a deeper meaning. 

He just can't lose that. He can't. 

He's so afraid that he will lose Harry.

And, honestly? If this entire thing falls through and he no longer has Harry in his life, he's going to fucking murder Louise in cold blood. Make it really fucking slow and even more fucking painful. Louise is going to be begging for fucking mercy.

And another thing, he doesn't even care if he gets caught. Hell, he wants to fucking take credit. He wants the world to know that he killed the bitch that fucked his life up so fucking spectacularly that he fucking mutilated her.

Yeah. He's a little afraid of this confession and what it will do. The weight it holds is so fucking insurmountable that Louis is so fucking afraid that he's tempted to just pick up the phone and tell Louise to tell Harry for him, because he's so afraid.

He finishes the cards, and walks towards the door, past the point of no return.