Let Me Burn With You.

Chapter 2

“So then,” asked Louis, “what have they got you in here for?”

“Sorry?” Harry looked at Louis stupidly, not quite comprehending the strange boy with the lighter.

“See, I’m here ‘cause I have mild to severe pyromaniacal tendencies.” The look on Harry’s face must have told Louis he didn’t understand. Louis rolled his eyes. “Meaning, that I have an obsession with lighting things on fire.” He looked down at the lighter again and grinned before flicking it three times.

Click. Click. Click.

Little sparks shot out of the lighter before the third click produced a lustrous flame. The blaze flickered as Louis’ breath tickled the flare. Then it blazed brightly once again, the dull orange giving way to shades of red and blue. “Now that I’ve told you just how certifiable I am, its your turn.” His eyes twinkled with an incandescence that was entirely unrelated to the flame he held. “Oh, and your name would be nice too.”

Harry didn’t really want to tell Louis about his schizophrenia. That was something that he prefered to keep private. Normally, he never had to worry about telling anyone. Most of the other patients kept to themselves and had no desire to learn about anyone’s condition besides their own. That being so, it wasn’t everyday that Harry was asked to share the inner workings of his psyche by a stranger, and yet he felt compelled to give a response because the boy had shared his condition so easily with him. Perhaps it wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it out to be. Louis seemed to have no qualms about his informing people of his pyromania. In fact, he had said it as if he was just telling someone about his worst subject in school. And maybe it really was that simple. Maybe Harry could just come out and talk about how he couldn’t trust his own mind as easily as someone might talk about how much they dislike maths class.

Nervously, he shuffled closer to Louis. “Oh. Um... It’s Harry, and um... iamskitzophrenic.”

“Hm? Sorry, didn’t catch that mate.”

“I’m schizophrenic.” Harry muttered.

“Really?” smirked Louis his voice colored with a tinge of sarcasm, “I would have never guessed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” demanded Harry.

“Nothing at all.”

“That obviously meant something.”

“It didn’t.”

Harry crossed his arms defiantly and glared down at Louis.

“Look, I can’t really judge you.” sighed Louis, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Everyone in this place is fucked up in the head in some way. Even me.” His blue eyes peeked up from under the fringe that swept across his forehead before darting back down to the lighter clenched in his hand.

For a moment, Harry glared down at the boy who was still huddled in the shadowed corner. The silence between them stretched for a for an impossibly long time and it was evident that both of them could think of nothing to say after Louis’ admission. The statement hung in the air between him, but both chose to ignore it. It was easier to pretend as if there was nothing wrong with them at all.

“Are you allowed to have that?” Harry’s eyes widened at the words that had just slipped from his lips. He hadn’t expected to be that first one to break the silence. Louis looked at him questioningly. “That lighter.” Harry muttered as means of an explanation, “Shouldn’t the nurses have taken it from you?”

A small smile fell across Louis’ lips. “I don’t think they’ve seen it.”

Harry laughed. “The nurses didn’t notice that a pyromaniac had a lighter on him?”