Louis Tomlinson is a well respected Doctor whose life revolves around his work and his 8 year old daughter... until he meets Harry Styles, who becomes his daughter's art teacher. Harry becomes a part of their lives, loving Louis' little girl Emma li...
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Anne and Gemma leave soon after Emma, and Louis and Harry are alone again.
Louis' mind keeps drifting back to the bottle he saw; his mind keeps trying to convince himself that maybe he has misread it; it isn't what he thinks it is.
"I need a shower," Harry starts slowly, "is it alright if I take one real quick?"
"Uh, yeah, sure, love," Louis says softly as he's following Harry back upstairs to his room.
He watches Harry grabbing his bag, his back to Louis. Louis sees more than one bottle this time. And his mind is beginning to wonder even more now.
Harry takes his clothes in the bathroom. He starts the shower water slowly, his body aching again. He sighs against the counter, wondering how the hell he is supposed to just tell Louis he has cancer; how does he even say it? His mind is lost in those thoughts as he showers, his eyes closed as the water runs over him.
Louis picks up Harry's bag, knowing he probably shouldn't do this, but he needs to know what's going on; and if he read the bottle right.
Louis pulls them out slowly, his eyes widening; he's right... and he hurts to know he is. Harry has a prescription for oral chemotherapy... Louis' mind has suddenly gone blank.
His heart rate increases as he's reading the bottle, then pulling out the others... he bites his lip hard when he finds Harry's morphine pills. Suddenly, Louis knows the 'too good to be true' feeling he has had is correct.
Harry stops in the bathroom doorway, seeing Louis standing by his bed, his bottles lying on the bed. Harry doesn't know what to say to him.
Louis' eyes stay on the bed, "something you wanna tell me, Harold?"
"I... I was gonna tell you," Harry manages to whisper.
"When?" Louis almost yells at him, "when were you going to fucking tell me exactly? When you're fucking dead?!"
"I... I was going to today," Harry stutters out, "I..."
"Why would you keep this from me?!" Louis finds himself shouting.
Harry closes his mouth, his eyes falling.
"I... I sat outside last night and I poured my heart out to you," Louis shouts again, "and this whole time.... you've kept something like this from me? From a fucking Doctor?!"
Harry doesn't look back at him, "I... it wasn't on purpose, Louis..."
"It wasn't on purpose?" Louis asks, anger burning all over him, "really? What effort have you made to tell me, Harry? I'd love to know."
"Why the hell would you go through my shit anyways?" Harry asks, his voice now raising some. "What possessed you to think you could?"
Louis glares at him, "because when you were getting clothes out for Gemma, I saw the fucking bottle... I just hoped I was wrong on the script... I wasn't apparently."
