Undercover (Larry Stylinson)

34. it still hurts

Eventually, halfway through the fifth episode, Louis fell asleep. Harry smiled at the sleeping man who was nestled on his chest and began to rub his back gently. So much of their relationship had consisted of this type of intimacy, but so much of it had consisted of distance. A gap between them that they could never seem to fill no matter how hard they worked.

And it wasn't just Louis' body insecurities creating that gap. It wasn't just Niall's constant need for attention. It wasn't just Harry's flashbacks. It was something else - an unrelenting force that seemed to be pushing them apart like two magnets with the same poles.

But then, somehow, the force would suddenly break and they would smash together, quickly and with passion, barely breathing because of how attracted they were. That had happened today, when they kissed. When Louis had snuggled Harry close, when he let him in.

Harry blushed a little thinking of how carried away he got with their makeout session. Things had been so complicated with Louis lately that he didn't know where they stood, but this entire afternoon he had been flirty and receptive and the kiss just felt right.

It wasn't just the kiss that felt right either. Life felt right with Louis in it. And Harry truly couldn't imagine moving on without him. He realized now that going to New York was a terrible idea. That he would have been putting their relationship on hold before it even really started.

Well it had started.... hadn't it? They were getting somewhere. They were boyfriends, after all. Or at least they were the last time Harry checked. They had only really known each other for a month and a half - almost two months now. But what an intense two months it had been, with all of their ups and downs.... and downs.... and downs.

Harry squirmed in his seat as he looked at Louis. He looked so happy and peaceful sleeping, with his eyelashes fluttering lightly as he let out tiny breaths. Yet Harry knew the world of torment brewing within the man before him. He knew it wouldn't be easy to help Louis. But he knew he had to.

What if I don't want to be helped?

When Louis said that, Harry went home and Googled "how to help someone who doesn't want to be helped." The answers were pretty vague and most of them concluded that you couldn't help someone who didn't want help - they had to make the decision on their own.

Harry had frowned at that. He would help Louis a million times over if he could. But he knew the articles were right. It had to come from within.

Louis began to twitch in Harry's arms and he cuddled him closely as he thought about his own mental health journey. He wasn't so well off himself if he was being honest. He went through half a bottle of whiskey before bed last night - and even that couldn't help him sleep.

He was also starting to have flashbacks that sort of mixed his past memories with his current reality. Most notably, a few days ago, he started to imagine Niall being tortured and beaten, while he sat back doing nothing.

Harry hadn't told anyone about the fictional flashbacks of Niall. He figured it was just guilt manifesting itself and that it would get better on its own. But the flashbacks were just getting more and more vivid and he knew he would have to talk to someone soon enough.

"Mmm, hi," Louis murmured, interrupting Harry's reflection.

His eyelids flicked open, revealing his icy blue irises. Harry leaned over him, green eyes gleaming. "Hi."

"How long was I asleep for?" Louis asked, sitting up.

"Just a half hour," Harry replied. He looked at the clock. "We have the doctor's at four. Are you almost ready?"