More Than a Best Friend

Chapter Twelve

Harry was wrapped up in Louis’ arms on his own bed. Louis came over in what seemed as a record time, if someone was actually counting – it actually probably could be. Harry first cried to Louis, then broke down and showed Louis his wrist. Traces of old scars still visible and blood from the three new cuts smeared over his wrist. Louis’ right shoulder was soaked in the younger boy’s tears. Harry gripped Louis’ shirt as he laid his head on Louis’ chest and the older boy wrapped his hands around his body, kissing the top of his head, curls gently brushing against his face and tickling him.

Louis caught the hand that gripped his shirt in his own and tightly squeezed it.

“I love you, Harry.”, Louis muttered in his ear and Harry caressed his cheek into Louis’ shirt, drifting to sleep slowly and easily. Regardless of what his mind was going through, this is where he belonged, here – with Louis, cuddled up in the older boy’s arms, with sweet ‘I love you’s whispered to him.

Harry parted his lips just enough to let out a soft whisper. “Love you, too, Boo.”

Louis could’ve easily melted as the words. Harry calling him the nickname his mum gave him while he was a kid was always slightly annoying, yet the smile Harry pulled while jokingly teasing him with ‘Boo Bear’ or just ‘Boo’ was adorable. But now, it was sleepy and whispered and so gentle and delicate Louis just wore a stupid smile on his face for minutes later as the younger boy fell asleep in his arms. Louis barely moved a millimetre just so he wouldn’t disturb Harry’s peaceful sleep, he knew he needed it – after a while he tangled his hand in Harry’s curls and played with them until he drifted off to sleep as well.

By the time they woke up, it was just a couple of minutes after ten pm. They didn’t move. Harry was still glued to the older boy’s side, and Louis still had his arms wrapped around him. They just talked for a while, mindless chatter, discussing the Friday night with the boys, until the room fell into a comfortable silence.

“Can you promise me something?”, Louis said in an almost whisper.

Harry looked up at Louis. “Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll never think about leaving me again, in any way. Promise me you’ll try to get better. Promise me you’ll allow me to fix you.”, the room was silent as Louis waited for his requests to be promised. And it might’ve been a bit selfish to ask such things for the fragile boy who just smiled at him and looked at him with his beautiful eyes that were pools of green and Louis swore he saw a sparkle as their gazes met.

“Promise.”

With that Harry switched his position so his head was in line with Louis’. And he kissed the boy so desperately it consumed them both. Harry felt loved, with every gentle touch of Louis’ hand on his cheek, with Louis’ fingertips trailing to his waist, with Louis’ lips on his. It wasn’t just kissing and cuddling. It was sharing everything they had, giving themselves to the other one and doing so with all the care in the world.

The kisses were as caring as they were careful. Louis found his thumb on Harry’s wrist, the cuts felt rough under his finger. And they were sort of beautiful as well. It was bittersweet, watching them. Louis hated what they younger boy did to himself as much as he loved the fact it represented Harry was a fighter. And the feeling never felt quite as strange. He found himself touching Harry’s scars every once in a while before, but now it was just between them. Harry’s fears and Harry’s feelings and the fact Harry was an open book for Louis.

Louis twisted Harry’s arm to bring his wrist to his lips, gently placing two pecks on the scars, that felt even rougher against his lips.

“I’m sorry.”, the younger boy’s whisper reach Louis’ ear and he instantly dropped Harry’s hand.