Therapy // Larry AU ✔️

but they tore me apart

Louis laid in his bed, sketching a scene on one of his new sketchbooks. He loved the way the pencil glided across the paper and made the most calming noise Louis had ever heard.

The scene was simple, just a boy with curly hair sitting in the grass with a notebook and a few pens scattered across his area, his curls blowing in front of his face. He tried not to make the connection, but he knew his brain made him draw Harry. Even thinking about his name made Louis' throat dry.

He confessed everything to Harry, and he just told him to leave. Louis understands that because of Harry's possible (there really was no doubt about it, but Louis didn't want to make it official yet) personality disorder, it's going to be difficult to communicate with Harry some times. Louis wasn't worried about it, because his feelings for Harry were strong and he didn't mind if he needed to take care of the boy.

Louis debated going back into Harry's room to discuss things further, but he didn't want to upset the boy anymore. He was sure the voices were already giving Harry enough grief. It hurt Louis to know that he wasn't able to protect Harry from them.

Harry was so wonderful. He was so kind, selfless, funny, and so caring.

Bad things really do happen to good people.

..

Harry stepped out of the shower and tied his hair up in a towel to let it dry. He walked into his room and went to his dresser, pulling out a black sweater and some black leggings. He didn't wear them very often; mostly because his step-father used to make fun for it, but they fit him better than sweatpants or gym shorts.

After brushing his hair thoroughly and putting it into two braids, he made his way towards Louis' room and knocked lightly.

"Come in." He heard Louis say, his voice held a lot of sadness. "Oh, Harry," he said, getting off his bed.

"Can we– I mean, can we talk?" Harry asked quietly.

Louis nodded, taking a second to look at Harry's thighs in those leggings, making a mental note to buy Harry more. After his bed was cleared off, he patted the spot next to him and smiled a little.

"I'm sorry for just, like, throwing you out earlier. I just needed to think for a little bit." He started off, taking a deep breath, too nervous to look at Louis. "But after a lot of thinking, I realised that you're right. I need to get help for whatever problem I have, and I'm willing to put in the work to get better. I don't want to live like this Lou. I don't like having suicide come across my mind every five minutes. I wanna get better and be happy and have a normal relationship."

"I'm glad, Harry. I'm really proud of you for admitting that." Louis smiled, pulling Harry in for a hug.

"And about everything you said earlier, I wanted to say thank you. I've never had anyone actually care for me. I mean, Nick did, but only for a week before he started to use me for things. I just– I don't know how to react to that kind of stuff, but I wanted to let you know that I do feel the same about you." Harry took another breath and looked at Louis, their eyes meeting for the first time in a while. "And the answer is yes."

"The answer to what?" Louis raised his eyebrow, still in slight shock.

"When you asked me to be your boyfriend. I never had a chance to answer until now; my answer is yes." He watched as the smile on Louis' face grew until it looked like his face was about to split in half. Harry smiled fondly and hugged Louis, squeezing him gently. "Will you lay with me?" He asked quietly once they pulled away.