Modest Oblivion - Book 6 (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter 24 - They're only thoughts that I'm having

‘It’s Only’ – Odesza

They’re only thoughts that I’m having

Harry stood in the shower, though the water was boiling hot his skin felt cold as ice. Louis was soundless, like an imprint in the room unmoving and unspeaking. Harry stepped beneath the water and let it smother his tired body, his head was heavy with thoughts and though he felt relief for telling the truth he had never felt more uneasy. 

Choices, we all have them and Harry knew that but he had spent the last six months battling his inner chatter to make the right decision. If you love someone, you let them go. But could Harry divulge the truth and risk Louis leaving? He winced, the pain of imagining Louis breaking up with him again was almost too much to bear. 

So he stood, mulling over his choices as the water cascaded down his tense back. The house was still, silent as if it were mourning for his broken relationship. Harry knew the truth of his choices came at a cost but he was unsure if he was willing to pay the price. 

He wanted to scream. 

He wanted to beg. 

He wanted to face Louis. 

But he couldn’t.

Harry pursed his lips, afraid that he would see disgust in Louis sapphire eyes or worst disappointment. So he turned his back on Louis, faced his decision to tell the truth and waited for the bomb to explode. It wasn’t easy, though. He spent months agonising over a secret that was chewing on his bones.

Harry killed a man. I killed him. He knew, deep down it was in self defence but somehow that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. It was him or me, Harry sighed as he put one large hand on the tiles and bowed his head. 

Harry didn’t even know if Louis was still in the room, he was afraid to look. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But he worried perhaps sorry wouldn’t be enough this time. He resented himself, resented his poor decisions and resented the fact that he had kept such a profound secret for so long. 

It was never the right time, never the moment to confess he was a cold blooded killer. There was never a moment, or at least he made himself believe there wasn’t. Then it became so difficult to hold in that he would cry in the shower, whisper for forgiveness beneath the hot water and steam. He tried, so many times but the words slipped from his lips or he found himself unable to speak at all. 

Harry knew, eventually Louis would find out and if there’s one thing he’d learnt since coming to fame… it was nothing is a secret because everything always comes out.

The truth coming out built up like a spray canister, getting tighter and tighter until when he woke up in the morning Harry knew he would have to tell the truth. Confess his sins or suffocate on his own deceit. 

Harry wanted to cry, he wanted to fall into a million pieces on the floor but his legs remained stiff. He breathed in the fog and exhaled into the silence. 

“I don’t love you any less,” Louis broke the silence and Harry jumped. “Harry,” his voice was croaky and muffled from the sound of the shower. “Nothing you will ever do could make me love you any less.”

“Don’t,” Harry said, a whisper. 

“I mean it.”

“But one day you’ll wake up and on that day,” Harry’s shoulders trembled as he suppressed every tear that threatened to fall down his pale face. “On that day,” he continued, “you'll resent me for who I’ve become. You won’t recognise me like I don’t recognise myself–“