flower crowns // l.s.

✿20✿

TW: talk of rape/abuse in this chapter. please read at your own risk.

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Harry never spoke of what happened at Louis' to anyone. He was only hoping he could shove it down and bury it in a place he could never reach. It's not like he remembered much from that night, but he hated waking up in messy boxers and nothing else. What he hated even more was that Louis only said he was sorry after he opened up to him. Harry wanted something deep from Louis, something so wonderful that it showed how much he cared. But all he said was something that really had no meaning behind it. He needs more than those two words. And maybe he's asking for too much, but he can't help it. He needs a lot. He needs to know if someone cares for him, and he needs to be told repeatedly or he'll think otherwise. Has Louis ever told Harry he cared? He can't seem to remember.

That's why Harry's pulling himself away. He doesn't need to be hurt over and over, and if Louis' going to lead him on, and then drop him, then he just can't do it. He can't. It's better to stop before it gets too out of hand. He needs to be dependent on himself. That's how men are. Men only depend on themselves and don't need anyone else.

Work was easier than Harry thought it would be. Every time he would see Louis, he would avoid him, and quickly, Louis took the hint that Harry didn't want to talk to him. It was routine, now; show up to work after Louis got in, leave before he got out. He'd sale his flowers and then go. It's not what Harry wanted, not at all, but he has to do this for himself. He can't be weak.

It only took a few days before Liam and Niall had realized something was up. They still believed that he was at his grandmother's that night, so they really had no reason to question him. And the thing is, Harry just doesn't care. He doesn't care if they're worried about him; he doesn't care that he's acting like a robot; he doesn't care that he's pushed so much emotion away that he can't feel anything at all.

That's the thing about pining after someone who isn't good for you. It always ends horribly, and Harry should've seen it coming. He just ignored it because he thought Louis was good, deep down. He can't even see the good in people anymore, so what's the point?

"Harry."

Harry jumped, blinked, and looked around. Right, he thought, I'm not home. He picked up a fry and ate it, glancing toward Ed, before looking back down again.

Ed had taken Harry to Ham's Burgers (ironic name) when they went out. Harry could never get sick of their delicious burgers and salty french fries.

"What's up, man?" Ed asked, looking concerned.

Harry frowned. Oh great, another person that thinks I need to be taken care of. "Nothing, I'm fine."

Ed raised an eyebrow. "Right, so that's why you're so lively and happy. Jesus, Harry! You're talking my ear off. Seriously, stop talking so much and being so perky, it's annoying."

Harry looked at Ed and huffed, not finding what he said funny. "Ha-ha."

"Hey," he said, tone much more serious. "For real, though. What's wrong?"

Harry rolled his eyes, annoyed, and then crossed his arms. "Nothing! I can take care of myself."

Ed shut up after that. He looked surprised when Harry said that, but he just stood to leave. Harry didn't think there was anything wrong with keeping things to himself and not talking about it. That's what mature people do—handle problems alone. He's mature and grown, and this is how he's proving it.

June 13th.

Harry stared at the pasta sauce in the pan, watching it overcome with heat until bubbles popped up. Soon enough, the entire thing was boiling, bubbles in the red sauce popping one after the other. Harry felt like he could relate to the boiling pasta sauce—taking in so much and just waiting to burst.