Not Again? || l.s

t w e l v e

twelve | i'll take care of you

What's that supposed to be about, baby? 
Go free up your vibe, stop acting crazy 
You know I give you the good loving daily 

~ 'breathe' by years and years

ツ

By the time Harry was done with his Twix chocolate bar, he went straight into the coffee shop and ordered himself a drink, and then he asked for a bowl of whatever soup they had before he realized he's doing it. He didn't really have the money to, either. His budget was pretty tight, but—

"For here or to go?" the woman behind the counter asked.

"To go."

Harry juggled the scalding hot container of soup and coffee all the way back to his room. Louis was still asleep, so Harry put them both down and shook him awake. 

"Louis," he coaxed gently. "Louis, wake up."

Slowly, Louis' eyes blinked open. They were bloodshot and exhausted, and concern bubbled up inside Harry before he could stop it. He put a hand to Louis' forehead and winced at how hot it was, and Louis' fingers circled his wrist, holding him there for a bit before letting it drop. 

"Kill me," he whined. "Know you've thought about it. Just do it. I'm begging you."

Harry rolled his eyes at the dramatics. "I got you some soup. If you want it, it's on the desk."

Louis didn't move, and Harry went back to his book, no longer guilty. He did his part, that's that. Louis was once again not his problem, deathly sick or not.

Eventually, Louis sat up.

"Thanks," he grunted out a gruff, before eating the soup. 

It smelled good, and Harry's kicked himself for giving it away instead of keeping it. And for giving it to Louis specifically, because he slurped and made annoying sounds the whole time he ate; Harry just wanted to read his damn book.

Fifteen minutes later, Louis was asking, "Do you think you could— I mean, you don't have to, but..."

Harry groaned and slammed his book shut, "What do you want?"

"There's money on my dresser," Louis explained. "Do you think you could, um, get me a drink from the machine?"

Harry hesitated, but he got up anyway, crossing the room to gather some money on the dresser. "What do you want?"

"Mountain Dew," Louis answered. "You can take some money to get yourself something, too."

Harry did. He'd paid for that soup out of his own pocket, and he didn't feel guilty about the two bucks he snagged to get himself something from the vending machine. Plus, the vending machines were on the bottom floor. That's three flights of stairs; Harry deserved it.

He got Louis his drink, and himself a bag of chips, before returning to the room. Louis was huddled under his blankets now, like he'd gone from burning hot to freezing cold. He held out a shaking hand for the drink, and Harry passed it to him. 

"Thanks."

"Whatever," Harry mumbled.

Just when he thought that's it, that Louis had fallen back asleep, finally allowing him some peace and quiet, he heard his groggy voice, "Do you think you could..."

Harry sat up and snapped, "What is it this time?" 

Louis didn't even look sheepish. His blankets were pulled up to his chin and tucked around his neck now, and he's curled up in a ball again.