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

Part Nine

{ Photograph by Ed Sheeran is a good song for this chapter okay on with the story }

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"L-Louis??" Came the small, shaky voice from under Louis' chin.

Louis blinked his eyes open, looking around in confusion, before it all came rushing back to him and he was looking down at where Harry was shivering on his lap. Louis stood, knowing now wasn't really a time to talk.

The bleary-eyed older boy helped Harry carefully to his clumsy feet, leading him to his bed from where they had apparently fallen asleep on the floor. Louis laid Harry down, tucking the blankets up and around the curly haired boy, frowning as he felt the shivers convulsing through Harry.

Harry shouldn't be this cold, right?? I mean, Louis was cold, but he wasn't shivering and his cheeks and nose weren't bright, rosy red and his hands weren't shaking - from the cold, at least.

After he saw to it that Harry was bundled up enough, Louis grabbed the cold cup of tea from the bedside table, walking over to the sink and dumping it down the drain, before flicking the kettle on to make another warm one.

Harry watched him from his hut of blankets, shivering still. Louis took a seat on the end of the bed, looking down at his hands and playing with his fingers - a nervous habit he does when he's nervous and has absolutely no idea what to say.

So they sat in silence for a while longer, the boiling kettle and the sound of their breathing filling the room. Then the kettle clicked, signalling that it had finished boiling.

Louis stood, making two cups of tea under Harry's cautious green gaze. He carried the cups over to Harry, handing one to the younger boy before sitting down again and sipping at his own.

Harry murmured a small, quiet 'thank you', before taking a small, tentative sip and setting it on the bedside table. Louis set his cup on his knee, tracing the patterns painted on the cup, frowning slightly.

"Are we going to talk about what happened?" Louis eventually asked, his voice hesitant and quiet.

When Louis looked up, Harry was biting his lip almost to blood, staring at the blue-eyed angel in front of him. In all truth, Harry was perplexed and confused and afraid and... Warm.

Why was Louis still here?? Why hadn't he run screaming 'freak' into the hills when he found Harry on the shower floor, carving his anguish and thoughts onto his skin with a well-used blade?? Why didn't Harry wake up close to hypothermia under a cold-running shower with blue lips and a sore head like all the other times??

Instead Harry had woken up... Warm. And clean. And safe?? He had been bandaged up, tucked into bed and with the familiar and comforting scent of Louis in the air. So yes, Harry was confused. But he was also happy?? And Louis was still here, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed with a cup of tea in his small, small hands and asked if they were going to talk about it.

Louis was waiting for an answer he was unsure he was going to receive. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it again. He had no idea what to say. Well, the truth would be a good start, right??

"I'm a mess." Harry whispered, so quiet Louis nearly missed it.

But Louis did hear, and his heart jolted in his chest. "Oh, Harry. Beautiful." He choked, setting his tea down on the desk at the end of the bed, moving slowly over to Harry.

Louis opened his arms, and Harry fell into them, tears welling in his eyes again. "I'm not... Okay. There's something wrong with me. I've tried... Been to so many doctors.... Nothing... I can't... " Harry sobbed, burying his face into Louis' chest.

And Louis sat there, bewildered and breaking because this beautiful, charming, kind, perfect boy was really not fine at all. "Shhh, sh, baby. It's okay. You don't have to tell me now, just.... I'm here, alright?? Let me be here for you." Louis murmured, running his fingertips through the mess of curls atop Harry's head.

Harry nodded into Louis' chest, mumbling something Louis didn't quite catch.

"What was that, love?" Louis asked, leaning his head towards Harry to hear him better.

And as Harry sucked in a deep breath and repeated what he said, Louis suddenly couldn't breathe, because. Oh.

"I'm anorexic."

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