Louis' POV:"What are these?" I hold the bottle up for display, showing Harry what I'm referring to. The small, green bottle's contents shake inside at my movements. I'm shaking myself.
Harry's sprawled out on the bed, his legs reaching the end easily. It's startling, how much skin he's showing. In a good way. His tattoos leave dark prints on his chest and arms and I'm reminded of how I've ran my fingers over every single on of them.
I move my eyes up to his face. Now isn't the time to gawk at his body.
His eyes go wide when he sees the pill bottle. He runs his fingers through his hair. A sign of nervousness.
"Harry." It's a single word used to tempt his explanation out of him.
It works.
"Do you remember when you were kicked out of the doctor's office?" I flinch. It isn't a happy memory.
"Of course." I lean on my left foot, wanting to hear his answer but afraid to.
"While you were outside I was diagnosed with insomnia." His words are quiet, shy.
Everything clicks into place. Him wandering around in the hospital, the dark circles under his eyelids. I might as well had INSOMNIA spelled out for me in big red letters. Harry's been suffering and I haven't even realized.
I switch my gaze to the ground. I feel like a jerk now.
I turn on my heels and retrace my steps back to the bathroom. I never found the Vaseline.
Harry's cabinet is organized neatly, with extra toothbrushes and toothpaste and shaving cream (unopened) and a razor and sunscreen and deodorant and cologne. I set the pill bottle back on the shelf and stand on the toilet lid for better access to the cabinet.
I see a brush, a box of lip balm, a few bottles of average medicine like Tylenol and Advil, the lotion he was referring to, floss, and aloe but no Vase-
There it is. I crane my neck and push past the stack of toothbrushes, grabbing the rectangular container in my hand.
Harry is in the exact same position when I return. He's staring at the ground.
I set the Vaseline on the bedside table and plop down on the bed beside him. I still have my shirt on, but I'm not motivated to take it off.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I reach over to lay my hand on his thigh. It's not meant seductively, but Harry's jaw twitches at my contact. I pull away immediately.
Harry frowns.
"I didn't want you to worry," he says quietly. His hands are moving over each other in his lap. I want to reach out and grab them.
I have to remind myself that he's not the victim. He was keeping secrets.
I stand up abruptly.
"So let me get this straight. I was telling you all of that shit about my past and you were keeping secrets from me?" My voice is progressively getting louder. I tug on my shirt to pull it down to my thighs. I suddenly feel exposed.
Harry notices this, his eyes holding a certain sadness to them. I bite my lip. I will not baby him.
"I was going to tell you but every time something else happened. This doesn't change anything." My hands tighten into fists though the last thing I'll ever do is hit Harry.
"Doesn't change anything? You lied!" My breathing is coming out in deep pants.
Harry looks at me with his sad eyes and I can nearly feel myself caving in at the sight.
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17BLACK
Fanfiction17Black: a gay strip club in London known for hot strip teases, a talented dj, and matchmaking? Harry is moving to London as a new addition to 17Black - new penthouse, hot job, amazing pay - sounds great. Sure it is a clear violation of Harry's sexu...