Orphans | Larry

31

"No-NO!"

Harry was trembling at this point, sweat beginning to accumulate across his forehead. This was all too familiar, it was surprising that he still seemed to have them.

His trauma must have eaten in so deep that even all these years later he was continually tormented by the dark memories.

It bought back a feeling within me that I was unsure I had ever wanted to relieve. It was as if I had stepped into a time machine.

His pleading face was near identical to that of his childhood, the same innocent noises escaping his mouth, wanting to be freed from the suffering that his nightmares were causing him.

It was painful to observe, it was as if I were feeling his memories just from being near him.

And then the guilt began to rise from my toes to my throat. He had either gone through this the entire time we had been apart, or my presence triggered them to return.

I had yet to come to a conclusion in my brain as to which was a worse outcome.

I was unsure whether to wake him, it seemed the kindest thing to do, and yet I was unwilling to see the disorientation amongst his features. The brain was a cruel organ, it's sole purpose seemingly existed to cause nothing but anguish.

It was almost a sin to let the young boy suffer any longer, his cries now beginning to form into pleas.

"Harry, wake up love." I gently spoke, placing the back of my hand to his head, which was indeed starting to burn up.

He instead tossed to his side, his slumber still enveloping him from within.

"Harry." I spoke out, my voice increasing in pitch ever so slightly.

He curled himself into a foetal position, in an attempt to conserve all the security in which he lacked. 

"Harry!" I shouted at this point, startling the poor boy in a way that caused for him to yelp, almost as if he had injured himself in the action.

His curls stuck to his forehead, one particular strand falling into his eye. His pupils were blown, the surrounding area a deep shade of crimson. Harry's complexion was pale, as if death himself had manifested amongst his skin.

"Lou?" He coughed out, meek and vulnerable was his tone. Causing for my own heart to crack at his despair.

There was nobody in this world that deserved this less than Harry, he was an angel sent down from heaven, and yet why was he being punished by Satan himself.

A small voice at the back of my head, reminded me of something my mother had once said. Gays were to be cursed, live a life of sorrow and pain for the actions they had committed. Small be that voice, yet it's effect was powerful in the way my life was formed.

I would not allow for that voice to control me any longer, not allow for that woman to play a single part in how my future would manifest.

I broke the silence, "are you alright, darling?"

Harry looked up to me, his eyes glistening in a distraught manner, "No." He whispered.

I felt a pang within my gut, "Why?"

A solitary tear passed the threshold, falling beneath his breathtaking eyes, "I just want it to all go away."

My heart stopped, "you want your nightmares to go away?" I questioned, pleading from within that that was in fact the case.

"I-I want everything to go away."

I pulled him into a vice grip, my own blood seemingly pumping faster as an effect of his words.

"You don't mean that." I said, voice developing a slight quiver.

"But I do." Harry replied, at this point sobbing.

"You want me to go away?" I asked, regretting my words as soon as they left my mouth, I was not even sure that I wanted to hear the response.

"No!" He replied immediately, not a single ounce of hesitation in his words, "You're the single best thing that ever happened to me, Louis."

It was as if a man had crawled himself into my heart and singlehandedly stitched the majority of the pieces back together. There was a few left floating in the abyss, but there was enough in one piece to function.

That man was Harry, I knew it in every molecule that was in my blood.

"Harry." I said, tears welling into my own eyes at this point.

If anybody had entered the room at this moment they would think we had lost our mind utterly and completely. Two grown men crying. But that did not matter, nothing mattered.

Nothing but Harry.

"You're mine?"  The green eyed boy spoke out, a hint of the fear of rejection floating around the room.

I grinned, ear to ear, "all yours."

"Promise?" He grinned back. Creased eyes and dimpled cheeks portraying the same happiness I suddenly felt.

"Always."

And it was the most honest thing that had ever left my mouth. Because in all honesty, I had always been his, from the moment he stepped foot in that orphanage. As a young boy I had watched the fairy tales and longed for love at first sight to no avail. Little did I know that I had experienced it.

It was the most magical thing that anybody could ever wish for, and all those years I had spent in solitude, with no one but Zayn to wipe away my tears, was all worth it.

It was all worth it, to have this incredible man in my arms at last, to have him reciprocate the same feelings as I. There was not a single word in the dictionary to describe the way in which I felt.

He was the serendipity that I had longed for.

And he was finally mine.