The Suburbs

e i g h t e e n

c h a p t e r   e i g h t e e n

e i g h t   m o n t h s   l a t e r

l o u i s

*eight months later*

It'd been eight months since the accident. Eight months since Louis had lost his leg, eight months since Harry had been blubbering by his bedside about forever, and eight months since Louis finally admitted it to himself, to Harry, and to his mother that Harry was the love of his life.

A lot could happen in eight months, and a lot did. Louis went back to Silverstate about a month after the accident, having to stay in London for treatment and learning how to walk with a prosthetic leg. His job was still there for him, although the school year was over when Louis finally got back home, so he was left with nothing to do but to plan for the next year over the course of the summer break. 

Marcus had stopped by his home for a visit, and he and Louis had sat in the kitchen over coffee and tea for a good hour talking about the younger boy's future which was set in solid stone thanks to him being accepted into the school he'd been trying for. Louis' heart had swollen with pride, and he still got emails from Marcus occasionally, although Louis never let off how much he really loved receiving them. It was a sort of sense of normality in everything, and Louis cherished those.

Louis' mother had moved into the spare room in Louis' home for a couple of months to be his support system, and to help him out when he needed it. In the first few months Louis was a bit of a wreck, finding adapting to having only one real leg the most difficult thing he'd ever gone through. Having his mother there every step of the way had made the experience a little less horrific and daunting, although she managed to get on every one of his nerves at least twice a day, so when she'd finally packed herself up and gone back home to Dan, Louis' couldn't have been more relieved.

He loved his mother, he really did, but there was such thing as too much love and smothering; Louis was twenty three after all. 

Things with Harry had gone south for a few days when Louis got back, but the both of them put it down to Louis' medication, his angst and having to adapt to a new way of living his life. Louis had yelled, proper yelled until his throat burned, at Harry until the younger lad had had tears pooling in his eyes and was cowering away from Louis. Things had been tense and uneasy for a few days after that, but they loved each other, more than anything in the whole world and an outburst of shouting wouldn't keep them apart for long.

After Louis' mother had moved back out, Harry had taken her place, although rather than taking up the spare bed, Harry would crawl in beside Louis every night. Taz would always curl up around their ankles and Louis' head would always find its way onto Harry's chest, and everything about it was utterly perfect.

There was pain, physical and mental, there were tears and arguments and laughs and outpourings of emotion, there was kisses and love making and midnight tea drinking, and Louis loved every moment of it. When he was with Harry it was like the rest of the world melted away along with all it's problems and issues, and Louis could almost forget for a little while about the accident, but when he was in a deep sleep it always crept into his mind, plaguing it with the sound of screeching tires and sirens and screaming, and all he could taste was blood in his mouth and his head would start throbbing and his leg would start aching and he'd wake up in a cold sweat, his body shaking and his lips trembling. 

At first it would frighten Harry, but it happened so often that Harry knew to hold Louis close to him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear, his fingers running through his hair and his lips pressing gentle kisses to his cheek until he was calm enough to go back to sleep.