199 Letters And Counting (Sequel to 199 Letters) (BoyxBoy

Chapter 13

I don't have words for how amazing you all are. I'm in a better place, and got back on in what is basically the first time in forever just to see all kinds of notifications for support. I can't believe you have kept this book and waited, and some have just started. I'm amazed and so honored. I'm working on cleaning up everything on my page, including some of these chapters. The changes aren't big, but they're little mistakes I missed. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's where things really change for the story.

This is also where I want input, if there's something you all really like or don't like. I have a few directions I can go, but the last thing I want to do is disappoint anyone. I owe it to everyone who has taken time to read this, and I promise I will finish this book.

Thank you all, again. You've brought me to tears. This is for all of you.

~JD Xx
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"Harry!?"

Harry heard his name called from the front door to his bedroom, but he forced himself to ignore it. He wiped the glittering pools of tears from his sad eyes and continued to shove as many sets of clothes he could, into his maroon suitcase. As he put the last crisp, white t-shirt he could fit over his stack of dark washed jeans, torn and worn socks, boxers, and other similar shirts, he could hear the noise of thumping like someone stomping upstairs. He, of course, knew who it was but his mind reeled. 'How dare he show up here after Zayn's text? And hours later? He has to know I'm not that stupid.' These and similar thoughts plagued the boy in each thump on the stairs.

"Harry, are you home?" He heard Louis call again. But he ignored him, as he pressed down his suitcase lid like a sandwich that's too puffy, and yanked the zipper shut with more force than was probably necessary. Nothing ripped, but it looked like it could at any moment. It was heavy and bulky, but it had everything Harry would need. He didn't know where he would go or for how long, but by the pain level it wouldn't likely be soon.

The footsteps reached the stop landing and picked up speed as they thundered toward the door. And when a hand nearly knocked down the door with the immense force to push the following body through, Harry's back tensed up as though ready for a physical punch. And seeing Louis' face felt like one to Harry's gut. Yet, he held his ground and made no change as the cruel man huffed into their room. Louis on the other hand, was obviously distraught. He knew he had made a mistake, but some part of him hoped that Harry would still find it within him to understand his reasoning. That he had done it for them.

"Harry, thank God you're here, we need to talk," Louis begged. His heart was racing and the cool, blank look Harry held scared him. He couldn't tell what his boyfriend was thinking, and he had been through so much lately who knew what was going on in his head.

"We don't need talk," growled Harry, some of his hurt spilling through his words.

Harry dropped eye contact to wrap his arms around the sides of the tight case. The strings helplessly pulled against each other as they tried to contain the weight while Harry began to lift the case from the bed. It was nearly half his size, and while his arms were long they didn't feel long enough as he heaved. Louis took this struggle as an opportunity to attempt to trap Harry by closing their distance.

"Please, Hazza," Louis whispered, oozing his voice with innocent charisma, "I don't know what Zayn told you, but it's not like you think."

Harry finally managed to slide the bin off the bed, though it crashed with a cringe-worthy bang dangerously close to the two men's feet. He then struggled, but managed to get the handle to spring and raise from the bag while ignoring Louis. He didn't know what to say. He hardly wanted to say anything. Still, Louis gripped Harry's hand on the suitcase handle tight, begging for any sort of response. But, even the pale skin over Harry's bony knuckles were cold. Lifeless. The younger man could've been mistaken for a corpse had he not forcefully shooed the other way from him.