This Little Book | larry s. ✅

➜ epilogue.

His cerulean eyes flickered over the page, taking in every little detail: each crease; each pen stroke; each tear stain. It was maybe the thousandth time he was reading this, and he probably could recite it off by heart. Yet the emotion that each word brought on never lessened. It was like he was being inflicted with sharp shards of glass; each one piercing his body even deeper. That was the only way he could describe the pain he felt. 

The image of that night still haunted his mind, never truly leaving him. It was the way he laid there, his face completely drained, a contrasting crimson surrounding his body. It left the older boy in a state of paralysis- he couldn't think, speak, breathe.

But that was nothing compared to the way he felt when he realised that he had caused this. He was the sole person who was to blame. He couldn't face his other band mates who were so concerned, pacing along the the unnerving sterile floor, or crying over the one he loved ever so much.

Yes, loved. 

He wasn't just saying this because the curly haired boy was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life (or maybe against it, Louis wouldn't know) but he genuinely meant it. He was going to declare it to him that evening as well. When he entered the flat they shared,  he was ready to tell him. He had just broken up with Eleanor (who took the whole situation so well, claiming that she "knew it all along",) in order to pursue who he had always wanted, the one he had always needed. But he was too late.

If only he had gotten home faster. If only he had the courage to make a move earlier. If only he could have known his true feelings sooner.

When they had been allowed to see him, Louis ran in, before freezing at the sight that greeted him. The doctor was explaining the youngest boy's condition, but to Louis they were a bunch of weird noises, blurring into the background. His attention was on solely on Harry, his Harry. Slowly placing himself on the chair besides the bed, he captured Harry's hand, determined on not letting go. He was going ro be the first person that he would see when he woke, no matter what. 

He remembered sitting there for what felt like an eternity, but must have been an hour, and there was no sign of his love improving; in fact he was deteriorating rapidly. But Louis wasn't going to give up- he would be better, he had to be better. Suddenly, the beeps that were going at a slow, yet regular pace, decreased alarmingly. He yelled for help, before finding himself being pushed to the back of the room by a sea of nurses and doctors. He could tell they were trying to resuscitate him, but it wasn't working. Before the doctors could try another time, what Louis dreaded the most filled the air.

The single prolonged beep.

"Louis?" a deep slow drawl called bringing the older boy out of his thoughts as he wiped away the tears that had fallen as he reminisced. A mop of brown curls popped around the corner of the door, and Louis smiled.

"I'm sorry,"  he whispered as he was encased by strong arms. Harry looked at him, a questioning look gracing his face. "I'm sorry for not telling you how I felt, for making you feel this way." Louis couldn't meet the emerald eyes, but was forced to by a finger pushing his head up

"Look, don't be sorry, please don't be sorry. I would go through all of that pain again if it meant that in the end I would have you here, in my arms, forever. I'm here now, breathing. My heart is still pounding as it always has been when it comes to you. I love you so much."

"I love you too Harry, more than you'll ever know." Harry smiled at Louis, before giving him a sweet, tender kiss.

Everything was alright, and that's the way it always would be.

- x -