Maybe He Gives Me More

Please

                   Louis's POV
       I felt the tears gather in my eyes.  The car seemed smaller and the air seemed so much thinner. It had only been a week. A week, and he already wanted to leave me. I looked at Harry and his stare was soft. His chapped lips were open just a bit and I knew I needed to fight for him.
      "Harry, let's be logical about this. You're the only person I want Harry, and I need you. I need you so much it hurts my head. You are the boy I write about in poems and think about when the sun comes up. Don't do this to me, don't do this to us." I begged.
     I was coming across like I knew what to do but I didn't have a clue. I loved him. I loved Harry Styles with everything in me and I couldn't help but want to get on my knees and beg for him to say it back.
      "I don't know." His voice was soft, and I couldn't read his tone. I never could. I could feel my chest tightening each moment I let the silence linger between us. "Harry, please." The only vowels my mouth could afford to form was begging him to stay and each word laid foreign in my mouth- in a language I couldn't comprehend.
     He kept his stare hard at the steering wheel. "Okay." He said. His hand reached over to mine delicately, and placed it on my thigh. He started the ignition and it was almost as if we were okay again.  Almost.
                             *******
    I laid in Harry's old ratty bed sheets, and planned to stay there until he came home. He told me it would be awhile, but I knew there was nothing better to do. I had completely given up on school, and my parent's couldn't have cared any less. It just made sense for me to be here, with him.
      It had been a couple days before the whole scenario and in a way it was robotic the way we moved. Of course, Harry didn't walk on egg shells, but I felt like I needed to. I examined the broken ceiling tiles and it was almost as if i had never seen anything like it. Everything felt different. Heavy. I looked like a ghost in my own skin, and I didn't know if I was becoming the kids I used to pity. No school, no job, and a boyfriend involved in a violent business.
      The front door swung open and I heard loud stomps coming up the stairs. Harry was home. He entered the small door was and his eyes were sunken in. He had gotten beaten. Bad. Immediately I rose to aid him. "Are you okay? What happ-" Harry's voice interrupted me quickly.
      "I don't want to talk about it."  I furrowed my eyebrows at how aggressive he was being. "I-I don't th-" My words were stumbling and I could feel my face getting hot. "Drop it."
I couldn't get another word in. He pulled off his shirt to expose an array of bruises and moved my body so he could fit on the bed. I didn't want to be near him. He tried to touch my back and I inched away.

        "Please?" I heard him ask. I let my skin graze his. As I turned to face him I felt him grab hold of my elbows so I could be pulled closer. "I need you to just hold me." Harry said as he voice cracked with a newfound weakness. Overtaken by shock, I wrapped my arms around his tall figure and nuzzled my head into his neck. His whole body shook as tears flooded from his eyes- I had never seen this side of Harry. Harry was no longer a bad ass who dealt with any situation by being emotionless, Harry was now a normal person. For once in this relationship, I was not the vulnerable one. For once, I wasn't the one crying.

 For once, I felt like Harry needed me.