Saving Us For Later [larry - elounor] //ON HOLD//

14- Louis's side of Larry

Louis was unbreakable. No matter how hard you tried to see through him, you couldn’t, because he wouldn’t let you.

Harry got in, in a way no one ever did. He never seemed to have a hard time at bringing down every door Louis closed. He was stubborn and Louis couldn’t stop him; there was something about that sixteen years old boy that he couldn’t resist. For the first time in his whole life, he felt the need of letting someone in; he wanted someone to understand his life.

Louis felt like Harry opened a door in him, a door that he didn’t even realize it was there. He finally understood how good it felt to talk about the things that he was going through but he didn’t want to annoy his friend the whole time, so he came up with a different way to empty his mind.

He decided to write about everything. It became like some sort of therapy for him, and the fact that no one would ever read it, was his favorite thought. That was exactly what he needed, to feel it out, to finally let his mind remember some stories, to finally let himself cry, and think about those things, those things he wanted to forget so much.

“Welcome home, pumpkin!” he yelled from his desk.

“What is happening here? Why are you so-“

“Happy?” Louis interrupted with his usual grin. Harry was confused, but he loved it when his roommate was in such a good mood.

“U-hu, whatever it is I’m happy for you,” he blinked an eye and dropped himself on the couch; Louis frowned and sat right next to him.

“Oh come on! You won’t even ask me what it is?”

“Ok, what is it?” If Harry was trying to act like he didn’t care, well, he was done with it by then. He turned to his friend with a smile and Louis giggled. Harry’s curious face was his favorite thing in the world. “Come on, tell me already!” the curly boy complained. No matter how tired he was, he always cared about what Louis had to say.

“Ok, you totally gonna think I’m stupid but I don’t care,” the older boy said in between a few bites of his sandwich, Harry rolled his eyes. “So… I have been, kind of writing,” he couldn’t stop staring at his friend’s reaction.

“Writing? That is awesome, boo.”

“No, is not what you think it is. I’m not writing songs, poems or anything, I’m just writing,” Louis looked away.

“Um, ok. It’s cool, but what do you write about?”

“Ok, I just write about stuff, you know, about anything. Is just a thing I’m doing, like to empty my mind, you should try it,” he answered vaguely.

There was an unsaid agreement between them, whenever Louis wanted to talk about something, he would bring up the topic and then completely try to drop it. Harry’s job was to find out and go deeper; he knew exactly how to do it.

“I will… try. But I don’t know, I think I kind of suck at writing,” he was trying to see any change on Louis’s attitude. “Is it like a diary or something?”

“Is not a diary,” Louis groaned, Harry laughed. “You make it sound so girly, I just keep track of what happens, like twice a month or something.”

“It would be perfectly fine if you did it everyday, I think is a healthy habit,” he nodded, “I’m impressed, Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Shut up, I don’t do it everyday, just like once a week, I’m not lying.”

“Well, you should do it more often then,” the younger boy was starting to get into his roommate’s nerves. 

“Anyways, what should we do tonight? I’m bored,” Louis tried to change the subject; Harry was not willing to quit it.