taming mr.tomlinson [larry stylinson] ✔️

35.

"Tell me about her," said Harry quietly, sliding his thumb across Louis' phone to look at pictures of his mother. They were both on the couch, Harry's head resting on top of Louis' chest, while Louis held him tightly in his arms and looked in the direction of the window to see the outside. Harry managed to stay awake with Louis all night, which was difficult because he was all about going to sleep at a certain time, but he didn't want to be asleep if Louis got upset again. "She seemed nice."

"Sometimes she was. In that picture--" Louis referred to the one Harry stopped at, which was a picture of her and Louis standing in front of a car that looked roughly old. "We went out for her birthday. She never liked celebrating it, and my dad didn't like pushing her, but I did. She had a hard time getting out of bed, so it was considered a good day in my book. My dad didn't understand her disorder like I did, and so he thought therapy would help her."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to think of how to word what he wanted to say. "The guy who's your therapist; was he hers as well? Sorry for bringing it up, but I heard him talking about her when--you know. He doesn't seem to be a nice guy."

"Oh," responded Louis. "Mr.Deakin. He's a very interesting character, isn't he? He used to be her therapist, fell in love with her, then became too emotionally unstable to handle himself when he found out she was gone. I only go because he's the only therapist I can tolerate, aside from him being too compulsive in certain situations. He likes to tell me about my mother, as if I didn't know her, and tells me that I shouldn't follow in her footsteps."

"Does your father know about him?"

"No, but you could imagine how awkward the funeral was when Mr.Deakin came up to her casket and kissed her on the cheek while Troy stood at least a foot away. My father wasn't paying attention though. He's oblivious to many things, that being one of them, but it doesn't matter. My mom wouldn't have been able to love him anyways." Louis explained dryly, and Harry didn't know whether or not to stop going though the pictures or ask more questions. He chose the latter.

"Why not?"

"Dysthymia is like a double depression. She couldn't even love herself, so what made him think that she could love him? She couldn't find any room to care for anyone anymore, and I know it's not her fault either. It doesn't matter anyways." Louis answered in a quick manner, carefully taking the phone from Harry's hand and turning the screen off. "She's dead now."

Harry wished that he was able to tell when Louis was hurt or not because his expression is blank, and he doesn't look like he's on the bridge of tears. It made Harry's stomach hurt. Would Louis' mood changes have an effect on where their relationship would go? Should he just ask Louis for an honest opinion and possibly mess up what they currently have? "Louis?"

"Yes?"

Go ahead, thought Harry fearfully to himself. "How do deers have babies? I mean, like, that would be difficult. When you're a deer to—just reproduce." Fuck, goddamnit. Fuck me.

"What?" Louis asked with furrowed eyebrows, but there was a smile on his face.

"Okay, forget what I just said. I say...odd things when I'm trying to think if you haven't noticed. What I meant to say was that you—I really like being here, with you, and talking about things." Harry said, appreciative of the fact that he didn't have to look Louis in the eye. "I'll shut up now."

"I like being here with you too, Harry."

Then Louis' phone rings just as Harry grinned, interrupting their conversation. The contact name read Troy and so Louis hummed and pat Harry's side to get the man to lean the other way, which he did. Louis stood up and clicked answer before leaving the room, leaving Harry to sit on the couch by himself and his thoughts.