Let Me Show You How to Love Yourself (Larry Stylinson) ✅

Feelings

"Hey, Zayn," Harry said softly. It was Sunday morning, and he was sitting at the living room table sipping a glass of water and reflecting on yesterday's baking session with Louis. Harry couldn't remember the last time he felt as carefree and relaxed as he had been when he was smearing vanilla frosting all over Louis' giggling face. It was as though in that moment in time, all of his eating problems and anxiety had suddenly disappeared, allowing him to finally enjoy himself and be his true self -- even if it was just for a short time. 

Harry loved baking. He always has, even after he stopped. Louis and Zayn had been trying to get him to start baking again for months, buying new cooking supplies and ingredients and begging him to at least look at them for god's sake, but Harry never would. He would just go to his room and lie down and stare at the wall until it turned blurry and he began to fall asleep. Harry did want to bake -- he did want to pick up those new whisks and bowls and pans and create a culinary masterpiece, a confection creation. But he just felt too depressed to even touch the oven again... too lost and removed from his former self to even begin to rebuild after what he had gone through. 

Baking with Louis, though, was different. Louis had a calming energy about him that made Harry feel content and at ease -- as if little butterflies were gently kissing him all over his body. And as a babbling Louis, who had mistaken baby powder for baking soda, asked him how to bake, his icy heart began to thaw a bit, revealing the warm, beating soul that it used to be. 

That day in the kitchen with Louis had surely been the best one Harry has had in what felt like ages -- not just emotionally, but physically as well. It was the first time in months Harry didn't walk around feeling like a zombie, his vision fuzzy and the walls vibrating around him. It was the first time he had actually finished all three meals without purging or exercising. And while the meals were small and probably only a portion of what his meal plan required, it was a huge step for Harry, who had been barely keeping one tiny snack down each day. 

And then there was the cake-- an incident which Harry simultaneously wanted to repress and replay in his mind a million times over. Swallowing that bite of cake had struck an incredulous feeling deep with in Harry, bringing him back to his days in the bakery when he tasted every cake and frosting flavor available, without a single care in the world about whether or not it would go to his thighs. It brought him back to early mornings spent laughing with his coworkers, late nights toiled over the fondant, trying to sculpt the perfect flower, sunny afternoons spent smoking a cigarette outside on his break, the smoke burning his lungs a bit as he stared at the shimmering harbor. 

And for once, Harry finally felt happy. 

But of course, the feeling was fleeting. Nothing could stop the shouting voice in his head telling him to put down the fork, to spit out the cake, to vomit repeatedly. But Harry suddenly realized that he didn't have to listen to that voice. That he could do what he wanted instead. And as he sat there, overcome by emotion and sobbing into Louis' warm, broad arms, he finally understood what Liam and Zayn had meant by the word fight. He had been fighting the wrong fight all along -- he had been fighting his best friends, his family, the doctors, the nutritionist. But that wasn't who he was supposed to be resisting against -- he was supposed to be resisting the voice. Because she was the enemy here, not them. She was the one stopping Harry from baking, from loving, from eating, from living. 

"Yeah, Haz?" Zayn asked, interrupting Harry's introspection. "Oh, um. I wanted to know if you wanted to go for a walk," Harry said quietly, locking his soft green eyes with Zayn's heavy lashed brown ones. 

"Um, sure," Zayn said, placing his notebook on the table. "But not too long though, you know..." Harry nodded, all too well aware that he wasn't allowed to go on a walk for more than 15 minutes because he was still only cleared for limited physical activity. 

"I'll come along too," Liam said, jumping up from the couch and grabbing his coat. 

Harry looked at him, wide eyed, and bit his lip, causing it to turn a bit red. "I, um. I was wondering if it could just be me and Zayn..." Harry said quietly in a guilt-tinged tone. 

Liam looked at Harry, trying to hide how hurt he was, and nodded slowly, fabricating a convincing smile. "Sure, that's alright," Liam said, giving Harry a small tap on the hand. "I understand."

He watched carefully as Zayn put on his coat, trying to restrain himself from the jealous rage that was pulsing through his body. That's my Harry, Liam thought to himself. I knew him first. Then, he turned on his heel and went to his bedroom, unable to trust himself to stay calm until they left.

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"So, what's up?" Zayn asked, struggling to keep up with Harry's fast pace. Harry might have been weak, but his long, lanky legs allowed him take the most gigantic strides and Zayn found it hard to maintain his pace. 

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged, gazing at the trees, whose falling leaves were now turning a soft orange color. "It's... well I'm embarrassed to tell you," he started, quickly glancing at Zayn to find him eagerly smiling back at him. "Nothing to be embarrassed about, mate," Zayn replied. "You've seen Li and I banging one out, after all..." 

Harry's cheeks flushed red and he started to chuckle as he remembered that night -- and the several other ones that followed -- where he saw Liam's strong muscled body thrusting into Zayn's petite frame. "Yeah, that was a memory I could live without," Harry admitted, smirking. "But yeah, it's about Louis. I kind of.... I think I have feelings for him." He looked up at Zayn, half expecting some kind of dramatic reaction about how he's not supposed to be in a relationship until he's recovered, something that Liam always harped on him about, even when he didn't bring it up.

Zayn smiled softly, his brown eyes twinkling. "I did notice you two seemed attracted to each other," he said quietly. Harry grinned back at Zayn, relieved that he wasn't siding with Liam on this one... at least not yet. 

"Yeah. He's a hot one, am I right?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow. Zayn cocked his head from side to side. "I'm not gonna lie, those blue eyes get to me. Don't tell Liam though," he giggled. Harry slapped him lightly on the back, shaking his head. "You dirty dog, Z," he cried. 

"But as I was saying, I noticed the attraction. I'm just wondering how... well I know you don't like to be touched. So do you just feel emotional attraction?" Zayn asked, furrowing his eyebrows and trying to figure out what it was Harry was after.

"Both. Emotional and physical. He's super sweet... he's one of those guys that cares too much, feels too hard," Harry said, a tiny smile forming on his lips as he thought of all of the sweet, selfless things Louis had done for him after just two days of knowing each other. 

"And yeah. I'm down for him. We kissed, actually, a few times..." Harry said, his pasty white cheeks turning a light shade of pink. Zayn's face perked up and he resisted the urge to start howling and jumping up and down in excitement at the thought of Harry kissing Lou. 

"Hazza," he said with a heavy amount of sass. "I'm so happy for you, love. That's great. You-- you let him touch you?" Harry looked at the sky, which was now forming a bright pink hue as the sun began to set. "Well... I'm getting there. I let him touch my shoulders and back. We tried my torso, but I just.. I couldn't," Harry choked, suddenly getting emotional at how god damn pathetic he was. Louis could easily be with someone else who let him touch their  torso, who let him touch them all over...

"Hey, hey, hey," Zayn cooed, sensing Harry was getting upset. "That's amazing progress. Amazing, Harry. You won't even let Li or I do that. He must be special," he said, trying to return Harry's focus to Louis and away from himself. 

"Yeah, he is. I just.. I wish I didn't have to go to treatment. Wanted to get to know him more," he said with a frown. "Well, I'm sure Louis will still be there when you get back. He seems to really fancy you, Harry," Zayn said, smiling over at the younger boy. 

Harry sighed and nodded. "Maybe. Well, let's go back," he said, turning around at the half mile mark they always had to stop at. "I've reached my quota." 

"One day, Harry," Zayn said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You won't need a quota anymore. One day, you'll be free."