Undone, Undress (Larry Stylinson)

forty-four

It must say something that Harry has a nightmare later that evening, or perhaps early the next morning. Four o'clock is a tricky time to categorize.

The time doesn't matter. What matters is that Harry is writhing around in bed again, but this time not due to pleasure. He's screaming in a bad way. Begging for it to stop.

He's in the other bed, too, which Louis doesn't understand. He was supposed to slide into bed with Louis after his shower. For some reason this is what Louis decides to focus on in this moment. Then he realizes he's being ridiculous and stumbles out of bed to help Harry.

It doesn't take long to wake him up this time, thank God, Louis thinks.

"I was a child," Harry is saying, over and over again and Louis gets it. He really does but he wishes he didn't. "I was a child."

"You're okay, honey... It's okay. You're safe here. You're safe."

Harry screams and cries into the sheets and it's heartbreaking to watch. Louis strokes his back and pets his hair and holds him through it. What else is there to do?

"I hate this so much," he sobs. "I hate what they did to me."

"I know, baby. I know. You're safe now though. You're safe here with me."

"Please don't leave me. I'm so scared."

"I'm here, love. You're safe." Louis rubs his back some more and pulls him up on his lap. Harry curls into him, and his cries slowly lessen with time. "Come here, baby. You're okay here. You're safe here."

"I'm so sorry, Lou."

"Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be sorry about. You're fine. It's okay."

"How can you even stand to be near me?" he wails, pressing his face into Louis' shirt again. It's wet from tears now, but Louis doesn't mind as long ass it means he can make sure Harry is okay, firsthand.

"You're lovely, H. I care about you a lot. I'm not just gonna leave when things get tough."

It's a while longer before the crying dies down and Louis is so exhausted but it's worth it for the sake of protecting Harry from whatever is tearing him apart from inside his mind. Harry is sprawled out over his lap, clinging to his waist and breathing in deeply, trying to slow the rhythm of his inhales and exhales per Louis' suggestion. He's shaking still and Louis wishes he could say his touch calms him but surely it doesn't do anything, really, except let him know that Louis is there for him.

"Will you sing to me?" Harry asks eventually, when he's more sleepy than he is scared, and his eyes keep slipping closed for long moments where he sighs and burrows further into Louis' hold.

"Of course," Louis agrees, rubbing circles on his upper back. "Can I have a cigarette first?"

"Only if I can come with you."

"Alright, but you have to get up and put some clothes on then." He's only wearing shorts, nothing else, but he obliges silently, shuffling off the bed and over to his suitcase to pull out a random pair of pajama pants, a hoodie, and some wool socks.

Since there's no balcony attached to their hotel room and the windows don't open, they head downstairs to the lobby and step outside for a moment while Louis lights up.

"Want one?"

Harry shakes his head, smiling softly and resting his head on Louis' shoulder. "I'm okay."

So they stand there in the hotel parking lot in the middle of Illinois in silence, resting against each other, and Louis feels closer to Harry than he ever has before. Something has changed during their time on this road trip, and of course some of it has to do with the fact that Louis has coaxed multiple orgasms out of Harry, but if he's being honest with himself this change has been happening for a while now. Every day they spend together brings them close and closer still.