Broken Hearts...

fifteen

The next morning, Harry woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains. For a moment, he didn't move, allowing himself the luxury of simply lying still, his mind slowly adjusting to the quiet. The unfamiliar peace wrapped around him like a blanket, foreign yet welcome. No April. No shouting. Just the soft sound of Emma breathing deeply in the crib beside him.

He rubbed his eyes, still exhausted, but the heaviness in his heart had lifted ever so slightly. They were safe, even if only for now. They had made it through the first night.Sitting up slowly, Harry glanced at Emma, still peacefully asleep. She looked so small, so innocent. The sight tugged at him, filling him with a fierce protectiveness. He had done this for her—for both of them. No matter what came next, they were free from April's grip, and that was all that mattered.

He was just about to get out of bed when a soft knock at the door startled him. His heart lurched—an old instinct of fear kicking in—but he forced himself to stay calm. They were safe here. Sarah had promised. It was probably just one of the staff checking in.

But when he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat. Standing in the hallway, looking hesitant yet relieved, was Louis. Harry blinked, frozen in place for a moment. He hadn't expected this.

He hadn't told Louis anything—he had barely even been in touch with him for weeks, too consumed by the chaos with April. How had Louis found him here? And why was he here now, in this quiet, hidden place where Harry had hoped to escape the world?

Louis stepped forward, his eyes wide with emotion. "Harry..." His voice was soft, but the way he said Harry's name felt like a lifeline, a tether to something safe, something real. "Sarah told me what happened. I—I came as soon as I could."

Before Harry could say anything, Louis crossed the small space between them and pulled him into a tight hug. It was sudden, unexpected, and Harry didn't even have time to process it before his body responded. His arms wrapped around Louis instinctively, clutching the back of his shirt, as if afraid to let go.

And then the tears came.

It started with a quiet sob, one that had been buried deep inside for far too long, but once it broke free, there was no stopping it. Harry's body shook as the sobs wracked him, all the fear, the exhaustion, the sheer weight of everything he'd been holding in for so long pouring out of him. He had tried to stay strong for Emma, to keep it together in front of April, but here, in Louis's arms, he couldn't hold it in anymore.

Louis didn't let go. He just held him tighter, his own breath shaky as he whispered, "It's okay, Harry. It's okay. Let it out. I'm here."

Harry's knees buckled slightly, and Louis gently guided him to the floor, their bodies still pressed together as Harry wept into his shoulder. The dam had burst, and all the pain—the fear of April's rage, the constant anxiety of protecting Emma, the hopelessness that had threatened to consume him—came flooding out in waves.

He cried for the nights spent lying awake, wondering how he'd ever get free. He cried for the moments of terror, when April's anger had lashed out in ways he couldn't stop. He cried for Emma, who deserved so much more than the life they had been trapped in. And he cried for himself—for the boy he used to be before fear had taken hold of his life.

Louis didn't say anything more, just kept his arms firmly around Harry, grounding him. It was the first time in what felt like forever that Harry had let anyone see this part of him—the part that was raw, broken, and vulnerable. He had hidden it for so long, even from Louis, the one person he had always secretly longed for but never allowed himself to hope for.

Eventually, Harry's sobs began to quiet, though the tears still fell softly. He pulled back slightly, his face flushed and wet with tears, but Louis didn't let him go far. Their foreheads almost touched, and Louis's eyes searched his, filled with concern and something deeper—something that made Harry's heart ache even more.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, his voice hoarse. "I didn't... I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

Louis shook his head quickly, his expression fierce. "Don't. Don't apologize, Harry. You don't have to hide with me. Not anymore." He reached up, wiping a tear from Harry's cheek with the back of his hand, his touch gentle. "You've been through hell. No one expects you to be okay."Harry swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Louis's words sink in. He had spent so long pretending—pretending he could handle it, that everything was fine, that he wasn't falling apart inside. But here, in Louis's arms, he didn't have to pretend anymore.

"How did you find me?" Harry asked, his voice still shaky.

"Sarah called me," Louis explained softly. "She told me you were here, that you needed help." His eyes softened as he looked at Harry. "I had no idea how bad things had gotten. I'm sorry, Harry. I should have been there sooner."

Harry shook his head, guilt tugging at him. "No, Louis, it's not your fault. I didn't tell you. I—I didn't want you to get involved. April... she's dangerous. I couldn't risk putting you in that."

Louis's grip tightened on him, his expression hardening. "You don't have to protect me from her. I want to be here, Harry. I want to help. You don't have to do this alone anymore."

Harry's heart squeezed painfully at those words. He had spent so long feeling isolated, trapped in a life that seemed impossible to escape. And now, with Louis in front of him, offering the kind of support he had only ever dreamed of, he didn't know what to say.

"Louis, I—" His voice broke again, but this time, it wasn't from fear. It was from the overwhelming relief of not being alone anymore. Of knowing that someone cared enough to find him, to hold him like this, to promise him that things could get better.

Louis pulled him into another hug, his voice low but firm. "I'm not going anywhere, Harry. I promise."

And for the first time in a long, long time, Harry believed it.