Smoke || larry

19

It's become a ritual for them to meet at the small playground down the street at half past eleven. Liam is always with Harry during the day and his mother - despite her grumpy face and unwillingness to talk to him - watches him at night. They're dead set on making sure Harry forgets about Louis, but it's not working.

The two boys are like magnets, always drawn together. Harry can feel when Louis is near. When he was at the corner store to get a chocolate bar he could feel Louis' warm presence when the small bell rang from the door. Liam had found them in the chocolate isle making out and another fight almost broke out, but Harry was quick to defend Louis. Lately he's always defending Louis.

Harry really can't stay away. Louis' intoxicating and he listens to Harrys problems no matter what state he's in. Sometimes when they meet they both get so drunk that they sleep curled up in the yellow slide. Some nights they get so high that Harry feels like he's floating towards the stars and the only way for him to stay down is if Louis' touching him in every naughty way possible.

Tonight is different. Harry is bundled up so the chill of the November night doesn't freeze his already numb body. He's slowly becoming more numb towards his friends and his family, the only time he can unthaw is when those sad, icy blue eyes are looking at him. He can feel something in the air that makes his stomach churn and his throat feel thick. Something is wrong.

He arrives at the playground and he can see a small figure on the swings. Their feet are barely grazing the rocks that litter the area and his toes are probably creating a small separation from where they're dragging across the earth. Harry finds the image so cute. He pulls out his Polaroid - he's been using it more these nights - and snaps the picture. The figure looks up after the flash and Harry just continues to walk.

"Is it a picture night?" Louis asks as Harry gets closer. Harry is smiling, but when he sees Louis it falters.

Louis' pupils are dilated - which is normal - but his lips are cracked and his hair is disheveled. He can't seem to focus on anything and his fingers are dancing around his skin, sometimes picking at it in a way that looks as if it would hurt. Harry then looks back into his eyes and he feels like he's going to cry.

"Lou?" Harry asks softly. Louis tilts his head, his skin pale - too pale - and he just doesn't appear all there. "What did you take?"

Louis' eyes widen and his breathing starts to come faster. He jumps up from the swing and his hand stops picking at his clothed arm to pull at his hair. Harry backs away slowly, but his eyes never leave the older boy.

"No. You'll hate me. You probably already hate me. I- fuck!" Louis kicks the pole on the swing and the whole structure shudders briefly before it calms down, just like the boy. The whole night is quiet except for Louis' ragged breathing and Harry worries that his lungs aren't getting enough air.

"Sorry. Sorry," Louis says quickly and he turns to face Harry, his pupils still too big to see the pretty blue Harry is so sure he loves. He lets Louis wrap him in his arms and Harry just crumbles into him even though he smells of chemical and it's so strong - overpowering the smell of smoke and cinnamon.

"Louis, what did you do? Please tell me," Harry whispers into his ear, kissing just under it. Louis squeezes him tight - almost too tight - before he relaxes again and slowly backs away.

"Can we sit on the grass?" he asks in a whisper and Harry nods and gently takes his hand, leading him to the dying, brown grass. They both just sit for a long while and Harry doesn't dare break the silence.

"It's sad how fast the high leaves," Louis says quietly. Harry turns to look at him, but Louis' looking up at the twinkling stars, his eyes slowly becoming normal again.

"It leaves so fast that you crave it so much more. All you want is more," Louis whispers and his words leave small puffs of air that disappear so quickly Harry swears he could imagine them.

"Can I ask you a question?" Harry speaks now and his eyes are just staring ahead at the playground. Both boys looking in different directions.

"Anything," Louis replies easily, but Harry knows he's still not looking at him. Louis' looking up at the sky, up into the great unknown and Harry's looking at the playground. Looking at the place he used to play tag with his sister and his friends. Harry's looking back into the harmful past.

"You know why I smoke and drink. You know my sob story, but I don't know yours," Harry says. His eyes are looking at the yellow slide that when he was eight, he went down and landed in a puddle. The same slide he fell asleep on Louis' chest in.

"What's the question?" Louis asks and Harry bites his lip. His eyes moving to the monkey bars he could never do as a kid and the same place him and Louis shared their 'spider-man' kiss.

"Why? The question is why," Harry tells him. The night falls silent again and in the distance you can hear a car driving away. Harry wonders if those people are happy.

"There's plenty of reasons. I don't want to scare you away so all I'm going to say now is that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Louis replies and that leaves Harry with more questions.

"Your dad?"

"My dad isn't around."

"So your mom," Harry states and again there's a pause. Harry doesn't dare look at him,

"We all learn our bad habits from someone," Louis says finally. Harry swallows thickly at the new information and just keeps looking at the stable structure.

"Do you talk to her?" Harry continues to ask and Louis just sits silently. He never replies and Harry doesn't press the subject. At some point Louis' hand is on top of his and their fingers are barely holding onto each other.

"How did she die?" Louis asks and Harry just kind of looks down at his feet and furrows his brows.

"She drowned. She got too drunk at a party and she went for a swim. She got hit by the boat, knocked herself out and drowned," Harry tells him. Louis' grip on his fingers tightens in a warm way and his head moves to rest on Harry's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Louis murmurs quietly and Harry doesn't even blink.

"Everyone is. She's the one that drank until she shouldn't have even been able to see. She should be sorry," Harry says and his voice sounds angry for once.

"She can't be anything. She's gone. She's the one that suffered the most for her actions," Louis replies.

"No. She got the easy way out. We're all still left living and suffering. She gets to roam free," Harry says bitterly. He's never realized how bitter he's gotten towards his deceased sister until that moment. How much he resents her for her actions.

"You're choosing to still suffer. No ones making you stay here," Louis says quietly.

"Are you saying I should just kill myself?" Harry asks in disbelief.

"No. I'm saying you have the choice. Everyone has the choice and you can't hate her for making hers," Louis says and Harry just lazily blinks.

"I feel like I'm barely living anymore," Harry admits and Louis cuddles more into him.

"Welcome to the life of the miserable and the weak. We all drown our problems in drugs and sex," Louis chuckles humorlessly and Harry just closes his eyes to hide himself away from the world.

"What did you take tonight, Lou?" Harry asks again.

"I took crack, Harry. I just smoked a little bit of crack."