You Are My Everything: a Larry Stylinson au fic

Chapter 1

It’s all I can do to not scream my head off right now.

There are people home who would hear my agonized screams, so I settle for gritting my teeth so hard I feel like they’ll fall out of my mouth, and I snatch a pen up off the edge of the desk. It’s old fashioned, what I’m about to do, but I could care less. I whip a piece of notebook paper off the stack and place it in front of me. Suddenly I slam my arms down on either side of it and grab my curly hair in either hand. My eyes snap shut. I pull on my hair and bite my lips. I feel so…crazy. Broken. Torn up. Yeah, that’s it; it’s like a tornado’s going around my insides right this very second.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I release my tousled head and plant the pen to the paper, scrawling out a message to the girl that tore out my heart.

“A lot of nights I can hear them talking about me. How I’m the guy with the sad story; how I gave up everything for you and you were the heartless girl I lost my soul to. How could you be so cold? I don’t know. I never know how to answer them, so I just don’t.

I mean, after all the things we’ve been through, all the things we got into, how could you just walk around like you don’t even know me?

I’m sure Darcy would like to know. She misses her mom. She’s only two years old. I can’t believe you left her! If you couldn’t stay for us, why couldn’t you at least stay in her life? We didn’t have to be together if you didn’t think it was working. But you could’ve at least visited Darcy.

But no. You just left, Elizabeth. I guess the worst part is that I had to hear it from your friends; you went and told them all you were leaving me. Sure enough, I came home one regular night and you were gone. Only a note in Darcy’s crib that night two months ago told me anything: “It’s done. We’re done. Be a good daddy now, Harry. Love, Liz.”

Ha, it’s nice to know that I wasn’t even worth an explanation. Sorry I ruined your life. Although, it’s not like you helped me out at all; now I’m just eighteen taking care of my two-year-old baby girl myself cause her mom decided to be completely heartless. What a story I’ll be able to tell her someday.

You know, she still cries for you at night. She bawled on her birthday when “Momma didn’t come home.” I just thought you should know that. But whatever, you know. I’m done. I just wanted you to know what you did to us, and to our family. So I guess this is done.

Love, Hazza.”

I stare at the page for a minute and laugh humorlessly at the many references to one of my favorite (and quite fitting for the situation) songs, Heartless. Seething as I read back over the truths of the last two months, I spin suddenly and slam my fist into the wall. Tears spring to my eyes as I shake out my left hand, where blood has appeared at the knuckles. A minute or two later, as I’m still staring at my damaged hand, the door opens. Shit. I forgot that Louis’ room was next door. And that we share the wall I just punched. Whoops. “Hey.” Lou whispers, his eyes darting back and forth nervously. It’s a good thing Darcy’s sleeping in Niall’s room tonight so she didn’t wake up to see me like this. I look up at him slowly, and our eyes meet. “Hi,” is all I reply with. Louis just stands clutching the edge of the door for a few minutes until I lift up my non-injured hand and wave him into my bedroom. Nodding slowly, he comes in and closes the door behind him lightly. I spin my chair around to face Lou as he sits on my bed and tucks his knees up to his chest.

“What’re you doing, Haz? It’s three in the morning and I just heard a thud from over- Oh,” Lou trails off as he spots my bloodied knuckles. “Harry,” he continues gently, “what’d you do something like that for?” I grit my teeth again. “It’s her, Lou. Elizabeth. I can’t get over this. Not her, I’m done with her. I can’t get over how she left, and how Darcy cries for her at night. I can’t get past what she did to this little family of ours. And most of all, I can’t get over how we never got an explanation whatsoever. Not a single word from her in two months. Darcy’s second birthday, two weeks ago? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just…I can’t do this.” My head drops into my hands and I draw in a shaky breath. I feel a hand start to rub circles on my back, and I peer sideways through my fingers to see Lou crouched beside my chair. “Shh, Harry. I wish I could tell you why she did what she did, but the truth is none of us know. We may never know. I honestly just think the best thing you can do is try to get her out of your mind. Try and move on.” He spots the scratchy, hastily written letter on my desk and picks it up. Lou keeps rubbing my back as he reads. Once he finishes, he sighs. “Haz, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’re gonna break.” He folds the paper up one-handed and puts it in his pocket. “I’ll get rid of this for you, alright? Why don’t I help you clean up your hand and you can get back to sleep.” I nod slowly. My whole body is exhausted, and I can’t think straight. Putting an arm around my shoulder, Louis helps me up. We walk silently through the upstairs of the house until we reach the bathroom. I sit, and then make a weird hissing noise when Lou pours hydrogen peroxide over the cuts on my left hand; then he wraps a bandage around the middle of my hand and helps me up yet again.

We get back to my room, and I climb into bed. “Lou, I don’t know what I’d do without you, I really don’t…” I murmur. He smiles, almost sadly, and then climbs in behind me, knowing that having him there helps me through rough nights. Lou curls up into my side and lays his head on my chest. I breathe deeply, much calmer in his presence. I don’t know what it is about him, but my best mate just helps me stay in control. “Night, Hazza,” he whispers, and I lean into the top of his head. “G’night, Lou. And thanks again, mate.”