Prisoner

Eleven

After what Harry said, Louis' been feeling himself fall faster and faster. An hour a day is not enough for him. He needs more of Harry and his beautiful light.

He knows it's not going to end well, obviously. Harry's going to die in four months and that's just how it is. It's sad and Louis can't think about it without tearing up a little, but that doesn't change the fact that it's what's going to happen.

His dad has talked to him a couple of times about not letting Harry affect him that much but it's pretty obvious he already has and his dad knows it.

Over the weekends, when Louis doesn't go in to see Harry, he feels like something is missing during his day. He's never been the type to fall for someone so quickly. He's also never been the type to even feel anything with anyone at all, but with Harry, none of that is true.

The way he feels when him and Harry hold hands, or when they joke around, or when they have serious conversations, he's just never felt that with anyone else before.

He's thankful that it's Monday. All weekend he's been dying to go back to the prison- something he never thought would happen in his life.

The whole time him and his dad are driving, Louis just wants them to go faster. He doesn't want to think of himself as desperate, but is he?

"Okay, we're here," Louis' dad says, barely finishing before Louis' jumping out of the car. "Hey, slow down a little? You're not missing anything, trust me."

Louis does slow down, forcing himself not to look like a overly attached clingy person.

After what feels like ages, they finally make it to the break room. "Why can't I just see him for a longer amount of time? They're not doing anything," Louis asks.

"I don't know. You can wait a half an hour, Louis. It's not like he's going to die."

Louis gives his dad a look. "He is actually. Very soon, too."

"Go see him, I don't care," His dad says, knowing that Louis knows how to find his own way and that he'll be safe.

"Thank you."

Louis sets his coat on the table and heads out into the halls, taking the same stairs as his dad did and making his way down to Harry's unit. When he gets there, he scans his card and the gate opens. He quickly walks in and goes up to Harry's cell.

The door is hardly cracked but Louis can see through the window that Harry's the only one in there. Louis knocks and slowly opens the door.

"It's one already?" Harry asks, sitting up and closing the book he was reading. The book Louis gave him.

"No, twelve thirty. I came early. Is that okay?" Louis asks, standing in the door way.

"Yeah, yeah. Come in," Harry says, gesturing for Louis to walk into the room.

Louis does just that, closing the door behind him. "So how are you today?" he asks, sitting down on the bed with Harry again.

"Good," Harry says, moving around a little until he's comfortable.

"Good? I've never heard you say that you're good."

Harry raises his eyebrows and tilts his head slightly to the side. "Guess not."

"Well I'm happy for you. I saw you were reading the book I gave you. You like it so far?"

Harry looks over to the book that he placed on the metal cabinet that's in his cell. "Yeah, it's different."

Louis nods. "That's why I like it so much. I feel like no other book, at least that I've read, is like it."

"Yeah, I'm almost finished. There's not chapters, though."

"I know. But like oddly, you know when one section ends and another begins."

"Yeah, I didn't really know how to describe that. You were right though, about it saying stuff I didn't want to hear," Harry says, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah. It's because we already know it deep down. Stuff we ignore, but subconsciously we know it's eating us up."

"That's why I freaked out that one day...You said stuff I didn't want to hear and also reminded me of things that I hate not being able to have," Harry says, relaxing against the wall that him and Louis are leaned up against.

"Like what?"

"The fact that I don't have a future. You know, I thought I was going places as a kid. Not fame or anything but just like, actually making an impact you know?"

"What did you want to do?"

"Well I told you how I wanted to open a cafe or something. I just wanted to help people and like do something positive. I wanted to go to college, hear my mom tell me she's proud of me. I wanted to buy my first home, get my first pet. Fall in love."

"Wanted?"

Harry shrugs. "Want, I guess. I can't deny that I still get upset over the fact that I can't do those things. My mom and I were so close too. She was everything to me. She still is. I can't imagine how much I must've broken her heart doing what I did."

Louis reaches over and grabs Harry's hand, something they've been doing more often lately. "I'm sorry."

"Please don't be. That's not what I want. I don't want you to be sad because of me."

"I can't help it, Harry. I am sad. This is sad," Louis says, holding up their hands just like Harry did that day in the counseling room only this time it's not a happy time.

"Why?"

"Because I really like you, like a lot. I want more than four months with you, Harry," Louis says, not realizing how much he really does have feelings for Harry.

Harry's quiet, his grip on Louis' hand has tightened a bit. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Louis asks, hating that it has to be like this.

"Just that you met me. That of all people you had to like me. My life was supposed to end without hurting anyone else."

Louis rests his head on Harry's shoulder. His eyes have been watery the whole time but no tears have fallen until now. It's not much, only a few, but they do fall. "No," he says, wiping his face with his free hand and trying to talk normally. "No, you're not gonna hurt me, Harry. I promise."

"I'm not sure if that's better or worse."

"No, I mean you're not gonna hurt me. None of it is your fault."

"It is though. I put myself here."

"Yeah but you didn't decide to meet me, you didn't decide that I was gonna feel this way about you. None of that is your fault," Louis says, wishing he could just hug Harry.

"It just feels so selfish. I get to leave, it won't affect me once I'm gone. Everyone else has to deal with the mess. Even if my family and I aren't close anymore, they still have to deal with losing me in the first place."

Louis shakes his head, feeling the material of Harry's shirt rub against his cheek. He's stopped crying. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Okay."

"Why couldn't you have been some douchey dickhead who I wouldn't of liked?" Louis asks, closing his eyes and just resting.

"I don't know. I wish I was."

"But you're not. You're nice and caring and respectful and funny and attractive and I do like you."

"You too, you know. You could've been like Lisa."

"Lisa is stupid," Louis says, his eyes still closed.

"Yes she is but she also was unlikable, unlike you. You just had to be a good person or whatever."

"I don't know," Louis says quietly. "I'm glad it was you."