Time Will Tell {A short story} - Louis/Harry

Part Eight

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By the time Harry finally wakes up, Louis is drifting off to sleep in an uncomfortable position on the chair with his jersey wrapped around him in an effort to keep warm. But as soon as he sees Harry shifting under the blankets and hears his breath quickening, Louis is very much awake and sitting up straight.

Inaudible murmuring comes from Harry's pink lips, before the boy is blinking and opening his beautiful green eyes. Louis sucks in a breath at the sight of Harry's dark eyelashes fluttering against pale, flushed skin.

"Louis..." Harry mutters, shoving his face into the pillow and huffing, clearly disoriented.

Louis' heart beat picks up at the sound of his name in the boys voice, especially when the already deep voice is husky with sleep. But now is not the time for these thoughts, so Louis shoves them away and shifts in the seat, clearing his throat to get Harry's attention.

It works, and Harry stiffens in shock, shooting up in bed, the blankets pulled up to his chest as he stares around them in horror. "Louis." He repeats, jaw gaping.

Louis takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat. He thinks maybe they can talk about this with even an ounce of calm, but that all goes out the window when he sees tears welling in Harry's eyes. And Louis thinks Harry should never cry with sadness, because he's just too sweet and beautiful and kind for that.

"Harry...It's alright. It's alright love, calm down." Louis spoke softly, becoming alarmed as Harry gasped for air. "Do you need your inhaler?" He asked frantically, standing and looking around for it.

Harry nodded quickly, making grasping motions with his hand, trying to breathe. Louis found the inhaler and gave it to Harry, who took it and pressed it to his lips. When he got his breathing under control, Harry hunched over in his sitting position, looking down at the fresh sheets on the bed.

"Harry..." Louis trailed off, hovering at the end of the bed, afraid that Harry would react if he got too close.

Then Harry was shaking his head and standing up. "I think you should go now." He murmured, pointing at the door.

"Harry, you can't just avoid this. You have to talk to me. Please." Louis pleaded, his blue eyes welling with tears because Harry was just so broken and small and what did Harry even do to deserve this??

Harry shook his head again, walking over to the door and opening it for Louis. "I don't have to do anything. Please just leave." He muttered, not meeting Louis' gaze.

"I'm not going to leave, Harry. You need help, or something." Came the slightly hopeful reply from Louis.

Harry frowned and took a step forwards, his skinny frame anything but intimidating, although it still made Louis nervous. Harry could do much more than just hurt him physically. "I don't need help." Harry muttered, almost like he was reassuring himself.

"Okay, but I'm here for you. Just...Tell me what's going on?" Louis whispered, his voice shaking in a way that made him scold himself.

And then Louis' heart shattered into a thousand different pieces because the door was shutting and Harry was on the ground, sobbing into his skinny pale hands, shoulders shaking and knees brought up to his chest. Louis stepped forwards, his hand reached out unsurely, not knowing whether to comfort the damaged boy or not. When a particularly heart-wrenching sob clawed it's way out of Harry, Louis was darting forwards and enveloping the younger boy in his arms, rocking him back and forth.

"Sh, sh. It's alright. It's okay. You're safe Harry, you're good." Louis murmured into the top of Harry's head as Harry's shoulders shook.

Harry pressed his damp, tear-streaked face into Louis' chest, grasping at Louis' shirt. Because in all honestly, Harry was not good and it wasn't okay and Harry really didn't feel all that safe, even if he was in Louis' arms. So the two of them stayed silent, simply finding some sort of comfort in each other.

And, well. Louis really didn't know what to do.

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