Amnesia

Woke

They woke up in the mornings the same way they always do. Legs twisted together near painfully, a limp arm hanging off the side of a bed and a nose (almost always Louis') in someones armpit. Except today wasn't like most days. They didn't have Uni for another week. Louis and Harry had to pack for Doncaster. And Louis had to get all his belongings into a bag.

"Morning darling!" Harry chirped, smirking as Louis lifted his head up groggily, laying it back down on Harrys chest and groaning. Much like Harry, Louis was more a night-owl than anything. So Harry wrapped a giant arm around his waist, pushing his hips down into his.

"I want pancakes." Louis mumbled, wiping his nose on Harrys shirt and sitting up, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Leaning forward he pressed a soft kiss to Harry's lips, he didn't want to miss a thing.

"I want to cuddle for a bit first." Harry said softly, resting his head beside Louis'. And Louis had never loved the boy so much. He had never felt so far away from him at the same time. He had a weight on his shoulders and he couldn't bear the thought of passing it on to Harry.

"Cuddles are good then." Louis spoke softly back, reaching around for the blanket and pulling it up to their necks. Harry smiled as Louis tucked it in behind his back, pushing the pillow they shared back up to the wall.

"Hello boyfriend. We're going to Doncaster tomorrow!" Harry laughed quietly, letting out a yawn as Louis shut his eyes softly, curling up into himself as his chest began to hurt. He had to tell him.

"Harry, we- you ca-" He stuttered, pulling the covers over his face as he tried to phrase the sentence correctly. Tears threatened to spill as the lump in his throat grew until it was leaving him a choking mess in the blankets.

"Can't what?" Harry pushed, pressing a small kiss to Louis lips, only to be met with Louis rolling over to face the wall. Harry had to admit, it hurt a lot to see his boyfriend crying, even more when he wouldn't accept Harry.

"Its easier to tell you when I can't look at you." Louis explained, scratching his blunt nails at the sheets before he used the sheet to wipe his face.

"Oh." Harry uttered, propping himself up on his elbow as he traced his fingers down Louis' arm.

After a few moments of silence Louis spoke. "You can't come to Doncaster with me." He gushed, flinching as he waited for Harry's reaction. But there came none. Harry kept tracing his fingers up and down his arm as he mulled it over.

"Why?" He questioned, pinching at Louis' flesh softly. He could work around that, maybe see Louis every other day.

"I- My mum, she-" Louis spoke. Harry let out a soft "oh" sound.

"She doesn't know?" Harry asked, forcing his hand under Louis arm and turning Louis back around to face Harry.

"She knows you, she knows you're a friend but I've not told her, Harry. She'd tell my sisters and my dad and the whole neighbourhood would know!" Louis squeaked, pushing his face against Harry's chest as Harry let out an understanding sigh.

"What are we going to do?" Harry mumbled into Louis' hair, smelling the toddlers shampoo Louis liked to use to "keep his hair fluffy". Such a familiar scent.

"I don't know, Harry. There's not much to do. I... I couldn't do long distance..." Louis left lingering as Harry got what Louis was hinting at. So this was it? The end of the line for them?

"Get your things packed." Harry spoke, a harsh undertone creeping through as he now turned his back to Louis, all the previous tenderness gone. He had to be the bigger person in this, no way he was letting his emotions take over again. Harry felt the small brush of hair against his back as Louis nodded, sniffing softly as he crept over Harry. Harry watched from the bed, tears prickling in his eyes as Louis shuffled around the room. He picked up a few of Harry's things along the way, rubbing the fabric between his fingers as he flung it to the side out of the way.

"You're wearing my top." Harry noticed and Louis paused in his movement of folding up a shirt to look down at himself. Sure enough he was, a mustard sweater Harry had bought from a two dollar shop. It had smelt of mothballs when they'd bought it, Harry insisted it smelt just like home which had Louis questioning his choice of friend. It had holes all through it now and was far too small for Harry's broad shoulder where as it fell off Louis'.

"Can I keep it?" Louis sniffled, pulling at the fabric as Harry nodded, a tear sliding down his cheek as he gave in just a bit. Louis nodded a thanks to Harry, folding up his last pair of pants and zipping his bag up until the zipper nearly broke.

"Do you need to call a cab?" Harry questioned, reaching for his phone. He wanted to be alone right now, didn't give a shit if Louis was a day early at his mums house. Louis shook his head slowly, opening the draw of the small desk he and Harry had shared and rifling through one of the compartments until his hand fell on pieces of paper. They were wrinkled, sure. But beautiful. Every ink stain Harry had left on the paper was perfect, flawless. The messy cursive font covered every inch of the paper. It documented everything Harry had felt, every linger of a touch, every memory from their time, every dream they'd shared together. All written for Louis.

They had indeed had dreams ones. Little things they wanted to achieve together. They had a bucket list aswell, three pages long. Harry had wanted to give Lou the world and once he had been so accepting. But Harry had begun to notice the little things. Louis didn't say "I love you" back. He didn't want to kiss Harry as much. He had wanted to be by himself and prefered to study than sit on the couch watching movies and eating popcorn with Harry. They had had everything, now Harry felt like he had nothing.

"I'm going to go say goodbye to Niall." Louis drawled, folding the papers up and slotting them into his back pocket. Harry lifted his head from the bed, eyes bleary, face pale as Louis looked down at him.

"Love you, Lou." Harry mumbled, blinking three times in quick succession as Louis bit his lip, bending down until he was on his knees beside Harry and the bed.

"I know." He murmured back, inching his face forward slowly to see if Harry stopped him at all. Seeing no response he tilted his head, leaning in and resting his lips against Harry's. It wasn't deep. It wasn't passionate. It was a goodbye. There was nothing back, no flick of a tongue across his lips, no pressure back against his mouth. Just Harry's cold, unmoving lips and a heavy heart.