Euphoria | Larry A.U

(xv) - Day IV

L'appel du vide - Call of the void.

Day 4:

"Okay. Spill," Louis#2 says, Harrys' head is pounding as he sips the lukewarm cup of coffee Louis#2 brought him a half hour ago. They sat on his balcony, at the apartment Louis#2 shared with his long term girlfriend.

"Spill what," Harry pretends to be clueless. "You know what I'm talking about," Louis#2 reprimands clearly not playful.

"Just - I showed Lou the tattoo, and like instead of- I don't know - taking it as a compliment? He went 'well maybe we shouldn't keep things from one another' and he keeps so much shit from me, but I never complain because he's guarded and protective of his private life and that's cool, but the one time - the one fucking time - I decide I wanna do something to show him how much I care for and love him as a surprise the only thing he can think about is how I didn't tell him beforehand."

"Don't cry, chéri," Louis#2 whispers as he rubs his hand up and down Harrys' broad back. Everything is hitting him on overload and this - this - is why he didn't want to talk about his 'feelings', people say it's therapeutic but Harry just thinks it's a load of bullshit, because when he even so as utters a word about his shitty life or shitty relationship he cries - and when he cries his day is officially 100% ruined.

His head is pounding, his side burns, his heart is racing, his body is so so so so worn out, hell, fatigued and his eyes are watering, and yet all he can think about is if Louis' sitting somewhere worrying about him. That's what love is, love is cutting yourself open and being afraid of bleeding into someone else's mouth. Love gives so much, but it takes so much along the way.

Harry was hungry and he craved a hearty gourmet breakfast preferably french toast with lots of powdered sugar, but what he craved more than food was to have someone, someone finally reciprocate the feelings he displays, back. Is it too much to ask? Because it seems that his entire life any relationship he'd ever been in had been one-sided and he may of been nineteen but with all the men he's been through whom he's loved but stepped on him along the way, he feels ninety. It's taking its toll on him but most importantly it's taking away his chance to live. To just live and be free.

"I just wanna be somewhere high up... you think you can take me there?"

That's how Harry less than an hour and a half later found himself looking down from the top floor of the Eiffel Tower.

Harry has been on many many lifts, but never on a lift that went up 704 floors.

He stared down through the glass, clenching Louis#2's hand and he swears he can see the whole of Europe from up there.

"I just wanna jump," Louis#2 whispers. Looking into Harrys' wide emerald eyes.

"Louis," Harry exclaims grabbing his arm roughly "what're you? Suicidal?"

"No," he laughs. He then leans in to whisper in Harrys' ear "L'appel du vide."

Before Harry can utter a what? Louis#2 adds "find ze translation yourself."

Harry feels the pressure of the wind hitting the glass in his ribs and breaths in Louis#2's Hugo Boss cologne that reminds him more of his Louis than he'd like to admit. He glances over at Louis#2 and looks into his grey eyes and Harry makes a promise to find out what it means because he knows it'll be influential no matter what.

They descend to the bottom floor on the lift to make it back to the barren concrete Paris ground.

Louis#2 grabs Harrys' hand and takes him through the familiar route back to the hotel from the Eiffel Tower and Harry doesn't really know how to feel, doesn't really want to feel at all.