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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Time has ceased to exist for Harry; his days and nights are the same now. All he knows is sleep, his bed... his room. He knows it's Thursday, but he's not aware of the hour.
His mind is lost; his mind has been lost since he walked out of Louis' house. He never even got the chance to explain it to him.
Harry's eyes leak again, tears falling, but no sound coming from him; he's been like this since that night.
He pulls the covers up tighter on himself, his eyes closing as he sighs out. He wishes he didn't feel this way.
Harry has only heard from Louis once, and Harry's surprised he had texted him at all.
It had been Monday night when he texted Harry, asking if he wanted to do art lessons with Emma at least once a week. He said he'd pay his cab fare and he'd pay for her lessons, if Harry had wanted him to pay him. Harry had told him he didn't feel up to it at the moment, but that he'd get back to him.
Harry breathes out a heavy sigh as he's glancing around his dark room. He has the black out curtains pulled down and there's no light being brought into the room.
But Harry has come to prefer the darkness; he's come to prefer not seeing the sunrise, or set.
Gemma's knocking on his door and peeking in at him, "hey, you alright in here? Have you gotten any sleep?"
Harry glances up at her, then moves his head into the pillow more, trying his best to get comfortable.
"I haven't slept," Harry manages to get out.
He's pale and he's weak, and Gemma's heart breaks seeing her brother like this, "hey..."
She walks over to him and sits down on the bed, Harry glancing at her from under the covers.
"Look... you were told wonderful news, Monday, Harry," she starts out, "you have a match... and on Monday it's going to happen for you."
Harry doesn't say anything. He sighs a little and stays still.
"You don't really care about the transplant anymore, do you?" Gemma asks him quietly.
"I care about it," Harry starts, "I just...."
"You want Louis to be standing beside you," she says softer.
Harry pushes the covers down, putting his arm over his face, "why didn't I just tell him the truth?"
"Harry, don't... don't sit here and blame yourself," Gemma tells him, "you were going to tell him... I know you were..."
"Yeah, but maybe if I had been honest from the beginning, this wouldn't have happened," Harry gets out, though his voice breaks again, "like, I could've spared him and Emma all of this."
"Spared them?" Gemma asks, "Harry, you helped that little girl... more than her father did..."
"Don't," he immediately points at her, "Louis is an excellent father to her... he loves her more than anything."
