Maybe He Gives Me More

It

Harry's POV

        I've been letting Louis play house. He cooks dinner for me when I get home from 'work' and pretends he cannot hear me brushing my teeth until I bleed. When I close my eyes I can tell that he is staring at me, waiting for something better to happen. I want to tell him that he is wasting his time.
       In many ways I've learned that I am selfish, for I notice that Louis deserves better but I keep him here anyways. I let him fall more in love with me everyday. He bandages my cuts and kisses the hand that feeds him, as if I am all he's ever wanted.
The bruises from last week have been healing. My mouth hurts when I speak still. Louis keeps pushing me to tell him, and part of me thinks I owe it to him, and the other part of me wants to bury it all so deep inside of me until it doesn't exist. Every time he gets close to touching me or trying to initiate I cry. I cry like I have never have before. I know he is scared, and I so badly want to tell him that I'm scared too.
I walked through the door and into the apartment, the floor was creaking so loud I wondered if it could even handle me. I walked up the same stairs as always, and felt my chest tighten as I saw Louis' figure laying down in the bed.
"Hey, are you up?" I said. I surveyed his body as he turned to face me. His eyes were puffy from crying. "Hey Harry" Louis said as if it pained him. In that moment I wanted to disappear completely. I placed my keys on the table and sat down at the end of the bed. I could see him staring at me through the corner of my eyes, I dug my nails into my skin.
"I saw it. I saw all of it in the garbage this morning. I don't get it, Harry. I don't understand what is happening but if you aren't interested in me then just tell me"