You Can Hear It In The Silence

Chapter 22

Twenty-Seventh of December

Harry realised he'd left everything except his backpack downstairs when he got up to his bedroom. He tore his bag open and was relieved to see that his laptop was in it. That's all he really needed, and there was no way he was going back downstairs.

He placed his laptop on his desk and opened up all the files and documents he needed to work on for his thesis. He pulled out some textbooks as well. After fifteen minutes, everything was ready for him to start working on it. There was nothing else to do except start writing.

Instead, he slumped in his chair and stared at the screen. His vision was hazed over, making everything blurry.

If he hadn't told Louis he was going to work on his thesis, he wouldn't have even bothered trying. There was really no point even pretending to himself he was at all able to do it.

But, at least now, if Louis did happen to walk in, it would look like he was working. He'd have an excuse to stay in his room, a reason to remain hidden and alone.

Harry leaned back and stared at his roof. How'd even get here? Why had he let himself fall so far when he'd known from the start that he would only get hurt?

From the very first moment that he'd seen Louis standing shirtless in their kitchen, his easy smile and taut waist on display. He'd chastised himself before Louis had even looked his way for being so attracted to him. If only he'd put a stop to it then.

He'd known it when he saw Louis fight a smile when Harry made a joke when they were assembling the chairs. He didn't try to resist the satisfaction that Louis had found him funny. Or stifle the desire to do it again.

And the day Harry reached for Louis' cup of coffee before it spilt on the ground, Louis thought that his hands got burnt, so he rushed Harry to the sink and placed his hands under the running water. But Harry's hands weren't burnt; they were only hot because Louis had touched them. Harry had known then, as he stood stiffly and could not even form a sentence because he was enthralled by Louis' touch and worried if he moved or spoke, Louis would let go. But he still let himself fall harder.

He should have started distancing himself when Louis had hesitantly checked whether Harry was okay with him talking during Heartstopper and Harry realised that he wanted nothing more than to hear Louis' commentary.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Harry rested his head into his hands.
When Louis replaced the shower gel, even though he hadn't needed to and Harry's stomach fluttered, he'd known it. And he'd known it when he'd made Louis' breakfast for the first time, and Louis went out of his way to sincerely thank him, and he felt like his face and neck were on fire from the sincerity in Louis' voice and the requested eye contact.

Then, when Louis' body was pressed against his trying to take the remote, and Harry's body felt more alight than ever before, even though there wasn't anything sexual about it, he should have stopped it then.

He'd known it when he'd been about to have a seizure and felt as safe as possible, knowing Louis could handle it. That he would call an ambulance and that he could keep him safe.

He'd especially known how much power Louis had over him when they were at the hospital, and Louis had gone so far as to lie to everyone and say that he was his boyfriend just so he could be there for him. He'd known how fucked up it was that, even back then, he wished that Louis could be his boyfriend.

He'd known when Louis took days off work to look after him after his seizure without Harry even asking. And when Louis had found him crying in his room and immediately swooped in to hold him, get covered in his tears, and come up with a thousand ways to help him.