Frame of Hearts - l.s.

Chapter Thirty Four

new front cover again lol yay

Anne is left distraught next to Louis, still petting his hair even after hours of him falling straight to unconsciousness. It's early, four in the morning, and she hasn't had a wink of sleep, neither is she planning to. 

She knew it was bad, Harry has told her before but this is over the top reaching past the extremity of animal and family abuse. Anne doesn't want Louis to go back to a family like that, neither is she planning to let him go back. Louis will probably agree with her.

But, Anne also knows Harry can't be involved. She knows if Louis and Harry get involved, Johannah and Phil might as well just charge to the Styles' and run the two boys over. She loves Louis; she has since Harry told her about him. She loves her boy more. She can't let Louis' actions affect Harry.

Anne watches him hold the pillow closer. It's heartbreaking just at how much Louis misses Harry. He's curled into his pillow and his nose is stuck right into it, the duvet right at his jaw. He's wearing one of Harry's shirts, also, and Louis is stupid to think Anne wouldn't notice. She doesn't mind. It tells her a lot.

She's always known, secretly. She's always had the feeling that maybe Louis is in love with Harry but she never really had that much proof to convince herself. It's always been floating in the back of her mind, ever since Louis told her he's gay. She's always seen them touch, seen them play around and cuddle up to each other in bed with their legs jumbled like forced puzzle pieces which now fit together, seen how Louis' head always folds into the crevasse of Harry's neck and always stays there. But now everything makes sense, the way Louis always needed Harry even though there were strict rules against seeing each other - they made it work, and the way he's acting now. He hasn't had him for six days and to Louis, it's like separating some eternal bond shit that's way to complicated for Anne to try and figure out.

Morning approaches fast and Anne finds herself calling Gemma first, immediately speaking to not put it on loud speaker for Harry to hear. She continues to pet Louis' hair, him still sleeping soundly with his nose still deep in the pillow, and talks to Gemma about how Louis is home and she will need to go with Anne as soon as possible to the large office down at main street where the best of the best social workers are found. Gemma sighs and tells Anne okay, then hangs up before Harry starts to scream and shout about the way Gemma's ignoring him. It continues even when Harry comes inside the house, but Gemma is quick to tell him shut up. Anne comes out of Harry's room and steps in front of him, giving him a hug and taking his case from him.

Harry becomes confused. "I can put it away, mum--"

"No," she says bluntly, to add to Harry's confusion. "I need you to go to your room, and--"

"What?" and Harry's certainly worried that maybe she went through everything and sorted new things out, and maybe she found a few old razor blades. "M-Mum, what did you do--"

"I need you to go to your room, get under the covers and hold Louis, Harry." She puts a hand to his shoulder and nods. Harry thinks this is some kind of sick joke, maybe Louis is fucking dead for all knows. "I'll make some tea for the two of you."

He's reluctant because why would Louis be here? He pads slowly, his eyebrows still furrowed as he looks to his mum who shoos him forward. She walks off with Gemma to the kitchen to boil tea, and Harry is finally at his bedroom door. He opens it and yes, a soft bed of hair rests on the pillow and a curvy body is under the duvet laying so very still.

Harry opens and closes the door so fast and goes around the other side, shoving off his shoes, his pants and shirt before diving into bed and scraping Louis up in his arms so damn fast. Louis is just as quick to move and he holds Harry so fucking tightly he's finding it hard to breathe without wheezing. He's awake and probably has been for a while. Harry tangles their legs and entwines their fingers. Louis is biting at the junction between his neck and shoulder and crying softly with sweet whimpers which don't honestly sound too good. Harry sighs to him.