Chapter Text~*~ Louis ~*~
“Yeah?” Louis hedges as he sees shame and horror creep over Harry’s face.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry runs his hands over his face and through his hair until they get tangled in the strands. “Fuck. I’m so sorry that I ruined your birthday. You should have just ignored Niall’s text. You didn’t have to come take care of me. At least that way, you would have had a good day.” Fisting his hands, he pulls hard on his hair.
Louis crosses the room and falls to his knees in front of Harry. Carefully unwinding Harry’s fingers from his hair, Louis lifts Harry’s chin to face him. “Yes, I absolutely did have to come take care of you; and I would do it all over again every time in every possible circumstance. Nothing about my birthday has been ruined. I’m exactly where I want to be, surrounded by friends…” He leans forward pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s mouth. “And you.”
“But…”
Louis places his finger over Harry’s lips, stopping the words. “No buts. You’re sadly mistaken if you think I can walk away from you again.” Lifting his thumb, he drags it over Harry’s bottom lip. “A few weeks ago, I couldn’t take it anymore and called you. When you didn’t answer, I had to accept that I was too late, that you had moved on and didn’t need or want me in your life.”
Harry looks at him curiously, confusion marring his face. “You called a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah,” Louis replies. “It rang and then went to voicemail.”
“I never got the call,” Harry tells him softly. “I swear I would have answered.”
Louis squints up at Harry from where he still kneels at his feet. He knows with every fiber of his being that it was Harry’s number. He had heard Harry’s voice come through on the recording. “It was you speaking on the greeting. I tried twice more; but when both calls went straight to voicemail without ringing, I figured you blocked me.”
Confusion flickers through Harry’s eyes before his face falls. “When exactly did you call? The first time. What day was it?”
“It was the first week of December. I was at the bar and took a break because I felt like I would go insane if I didn’t call you right then,” Louis says thinking back as he picks up his phone from the coffee table and scrolls through his call log. “Monday, December 4th at 8:27 p.m.,” he confirms, showing Harry the screen.
Harry blanches, the color draining out of his face, and his hands begin shaking uncontrollably. “I didn’t ignore the call. I…he…he wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t get away. Then my phone rang. You…when you called…your call…it…” he trails off as a tear slips down his face.
“Haz?” Louis asks, alarmed.
So softly, it was nearly inaudible, Harry whispers, “Your phone call that night saved me from being raped.”
Sure that he misheard, Louis tenses and takes Harry’s trembling hands in his. “What?”
Harry closes his eyes as he relives that night. “He had me held down. He was choking me, hitting me. He wanted me to fight. He was getting off on it. My phone rang, and he pulled it out of my pocket before I could. When he was distracted with looking at the screen, I kneed him in the dick as hard as I could, and his hold loosened. I slipped out from under him, and as I was running toward the door, he threw my phone at me. It shattered against the wall, so I picked up the pieces and left before he could get to his feet.” Harry shudders and opens his eyes. “I haven’t even replaced my phone. I keep hoping it was all a nightmare.”