Bag of Bones (Larry Stylinson)

7

I know my room is a mess
Over and over again I tell myself I'll clean tomorrow

      It's been a few days over a week since the phone call between Louis and Harry. Louis eventually returned to work and kept his routine of staying up till sunrise, only now hardly ever getting sleep.
      He continued wondering about Harry just to snap himself out of it. Stan continued trying to cheer him up and even got him to go out for food a few times. He kept smoking an alarming amount and his stomach continued to gather shards no matter how good he was doing. He was always thinking about Harry in some way or another, he bitterly concluded on the third day after the phone call.
      The only difference was that he was better at holding his food down now, but all of the shards collected in his gut often made him lack an appetite. He was getting skinnier and more bony by the day it seemed, and his bruised eye shifted through a multitude of colors Louis had not imagined could come from the human skin before.
      His eye is a weird light green mixed with some yellow now as he walks through the door to Stan's apartment. He just finished his shift at the local business he works at, and he was thankful that it was a relatively uneventful work day because he felt utterly exhausted. He still feels exhausted as he walks to his room, loudly offering a "hello" to Stan wherever he is in the apartment.
      It's a bit past 7 in the afternoon, and Louis feels his entire body sag against the door to his room when he shuts it behind him. He fell asleep around 6 in the morning and was awoken by Stan around 10:30 a.m. since his job started at 11. Louis was glad that his hours were more beneficial to him since it was a local business, but working on just a bit over 4 hours of sleep everyday was getting to him.
      Crossing over heaps of clothes on the floor, Louis makes his way to his bed that he uses for staring off into space more than actually sleeping. The idea makes him smile to himself even though it's a sad thought.
Harry was always perplexed at how Louis' coping mechanism was often to find humor in the situation somehow. Harry was just so true to his feelings all of the time, whether he was telling Louis if he liked an outfit or not to dealing with a tragic event like losing his step dad. He just didn't understand how honesty and expression wasn't the way Louis got over upsetting events. It was even more confusing to him that Louis often recovered by laughing things off rather than facing them head on.
Louis wishes that he could find the humor in this situation now. Maybe that's why it's so hard for him to get over this.
With another shard digging into his gut because of that thought, Louis decides that he's simply too tired to think anymore, much less of Harry. He tries so hard to avoid the idea of him, but it only ends with him suddenly remembering three other stories about him and Harry.
Louis pushes his box full of only a few items now over before plummeting into the bed, his body already sinking into the sheets easily. Maybe sleeping in an actual bed instead of slumping against the glass slide door of the balcony on top of its cold tiles with only a blanket for warmth is actually better. Humoring his ideas, he snuggles under the almost stale sheets due to hardly ever being used.
      Looking around his room from this perspective, he realizes how messy it is. Clothes are strewn about everywhere, Louis being too tired and lazy to hang them up, fold them into drawers, or even stuff them into the box he initially had them in. He tried to excuse his messiness by telling himself that he was making the room more "homey" to him, but he wasn't sure if that was true. There were bags of chips and empty cigarette boxes on the nightstand next to his head. Blankets and towels were also heaped on the floor in random spots, a result from Louis being too cold to being too hot in certain instances.
Louis knows that his room is a mess, and he feels awful that Stan has to see it every morning when he goes to wake him up on the balcony. The worst part is that he promises him every day that he'll pick it up, so he can imagine how disappointed and defeated Stan must feel every morning when he finds the mess to be even worse than yesterday.
      Louis keeps on telling himself that he'll clean it up tomorrow when he has more energy, but that never happens. He always opts for staying up and writing his thoughts down into the early light of dawn every night, and he works until 7 p.m. every day.
Once again, he's compelled to clean the room to help ease Stan, possibly even help unclog his own mind, but his room remains a mess along with his mind. Harry was always the one who picked up after him most of the time. He also was the one that helped Louis clear his mind. He just doesn't know how to live without him yet, he supposes.
Louis turns away from looking at the messy room and opts to ignore it along with his thoughts about Harry with sleep. His chest feels constricted like something has wound his ribs tight together and won't let him have any room to breathe, but he just ignores it and tries to breathe deeply as his mind wonders off. His chest still aches in that one specific spot even a week and a half later, but it doesn't hurt as bad at some times. He ignores it like his tight chest and churning stomach and his dully aching eye.
He wakes up later to a pitch black room, the sun completely absent from the sky now. He reaches over to his phone to find the time 9:43 p.m. on it. Two and a half hours of extra sleep was good for him, so he feels accomplished as he sits up in the bed groggily. Without much thought, he reaches out for his phone.
After the infamous call he had with Harry, Louis turned off his phone for about one more day in an attempt to drown out real life and make himself feel better. He didn't feel better, though, and he also felt guilty for not even simply answering his friends' concerns. All he did was turn on his phone to rip himself from the inside out over a call with Harry and then turn it back off.
He supposes that's how he always lived his life, just centered around Harry, and he doesn't know what to do now that he's been abruptly ripped from the center of his world after years of just orbiting him blindly. If the sun was ripped from the middle of the solar system, the planets would be lost, wouldn't know where to go, and they'd fling off to the galaxy. Harry was always his sun, and now without him, he feels like he's been blindly flung out into the world, not knowing where to go.
That's besides the point, though. So a day after the disastrous call, Louis finally gave in and turned his phone on again and reassured all of his friends and even some of his family. He also used that time to contact his boss, confirming that he'd be ready for work the next day, figuring that three days off work with no explanation was more than enough time away. Of course he didn't feel ready to go back like he was fine and nothing was wrong, but he needed something other than smoking to help take his mind off of Harry, and he wanted to pay Stan back for taking him in and feeding him generously. So back to work it was.
Since then, he's been able to use his phone normally, even though the lack of notifications from Harry was concerning to him. His problem was that Harry hadn't even tried to contact him once since the call, which was even more concerning considering how much Harry had tried to contact him in the span of the two days he wasn't on his phone.
He ignores the lack of notifications from Harry now by focusing on his others, having a text from his sister Lottie and a few from Zayn, his childhood best friend that has been surprisingly distant during this weird period for Louis. After replying to a sweet message from Lottie, he focuses on the latest message from Zayn since all of the others were responses to what he'd previously texted.
      Of course Zayn has messaged him over the course of the week and half away from Harry, but his messages are mainly complacent and not as curious as Louis anticipated from him. It's almost like he knew Louis needed someone talking to him about something other than Harry, and he was glad that he had that sense. Tonight's message, though, is a bit different than the usual "what'd you think about the game?"
      "We should go out tonight; we could both use some fresh air," the message read, confusing Louis. He was usually the one to ever invite Zayn out, so he supposes that this prolonged break has finally gotten to him.
      Louis misses Zayn a lot and wants to see him, but he can't help the feeling of apprehension lodged into his ribs at the thought of going out for the night considering what happened last time. His chest winds tight once again and his pained stomach becomes more noticeable to him.
      "That sounds great, but we'll have to rain check going out for another night because work has me beat," Louis types out and sends, trying not to focus on the guilt lingering in him.
      He knows that he hasn't been a good friend for any of his friends over this week and a half, brushing all of them off to focus on his own problems, but Zayn has probably gotten the brunt of it. They used to see each other every other night usually and most of the time they'd genuinely talk about how their lives were going and how they felt, but that's been cut off like everything else usual in Louis' life.
      Not only has he cut off Zayn's most likely only sort of emotional outlet since he's so closed off with everyone else, but he knows that Zayn is hurt about how Louis never told him about what was going on between him and Harry. He doesn't want to see the pain in Zayn's eyes when he eventually asks about him and Harry because he just knows that he'll feel betrayed since Louis never opened up about how he felt in that department.
      So, after blowing Zayn off for what felt like the first time ever, Louis lets out a big sigh before putting his phone down and rolling over on the bed, laying there motionless. He's been getting better, he knows he has since his chest isn't as tight and his stomach isn't aching as much and his eye barely hurts anymore, but it's hard to remember that as his heart rabbits in his chest for no reason.
      At the beginning of their relationship, Harry had a pretty serious anxiety problem that Louis had not known much about until he saw how much it affected Harry in person. From then on, he researched it extensively and tried to memorize the best tactics and strategies to help Harry if he ever got an anxiety attack or just too anxious in certain situations, and gradually Harry's anxiety went away over a few years of Louis just supporting him the best he could.
      He remembers how he'd use to have to hold Harry's shaking frame close and instruct him on how to breathe slowly, how Harry's hair smelled as he protectively tucked Harry's head into his chest no matter how much shorter he was than him. Louis wishes he had the same treatment now as he finds himself shaking helplessly as his breathing remains bordering on hyperventilating. Maybe thinking of how he doesn't have Harry to do the same for him right now isn't helping his cause of calming down.
      Resorting to the one consistent stress reliever in his life, Louis thoughtlessly grabs his half-empty pack of cigarettes and lighter before trudging out into the cold air of the balcony. He blanks out the image of Harry smoking alone on their balcony in the middle of the night by lighting the lighter a bit too aggressively before bringing his cigarette to the flame and taking a long drag.
      The night weather has been consistently chilly, with winter edging towards spring day by day. It wasn't enough to make it a pleasant warm temperature, but it did keep the blithering cold away. He wraps his arms around himself when he's not bringing the cigarette up to his mouth since he's only clad in a loose t-shirt and some old sweatpants.
      After some time of staring out at the landscape that's become all too familiar to Louis, he feels a gentle rush of wind beside him. He hardly even has time to register the new distinct scent in the air until words fill the air.
      "I knew you'd be like this," Zayn says beside him, leaning onto the banister and looking out into the landscape as well. He looks less like he's looking for something like Louis and more like he's trying to avoid eye contact.
      "Like what?" Louis' creaky voice enters the air after a considerable pause of just standing next to one another, voice creaky since he hasn't used it in a few hours. He should have known that Zayn was going to come over to him once he turned him down; once Zayn wants to meet up with you, he's determined to. Louis's still not surprised by his unforeseen presence.
      "I don't know... smoking, alone," Zayn replies with a slight somber tone in his voice as he continues to look out into the town. Louis lights up a spare cigarette and hands it to Zayn, knowing that he wants one instinctually.
      "Yeah, I suppose that's all I am most days now," Louis tries to fill the silence, matching the somber tone around them but still with no emotion in his voice despite his tight chest and sore stomach. Zayn doesn't know much about how he's been throughout these days of his and Harry's break, being kind enough not to ask or prod. He doesn't even know about his black eye; hopefully he won't see it in the dark of the night.
      Louis wonders in the silence between them if Harry has had a similar experience as him right now during their break, if he's just smoked silently with one of his friends on their balcony. He wonders if he's smoked at all during their time away, recalling how Harry admitted to drinking heavily because of Louis' absence. Harry's never really had an alcohol problem, though he has always had a tendency to get hammered more often than Louis, even on nights that they had agreed to be quiet ones.
      He'd gotten better about excessive drinking the longer they were together, though, regulating it more and more until they hardly strayed away from drinking a healthy amount even on rambunctious nights. Louis feels so guilty and pained that this has driven Harry back to drinking, and he wishes that he could just be there to stop, help him, and hold him.
Another shard digs into his stomach when he thinks how he might not ever have the possibility of having a say in Harry's wellbeing again. Why does being around people make Louis tear in two more often than when he just isolates himself?
      "Why didn't you ever tell me?" Zayn finally asks, his saddened words breaking the silent air and Louis' destructive train of thought. Though it's not connected to any sort of dialogue, Louis already knows what he's asking about. He knew he'd want to know why Louis internalized the shit going with Harry, that he'd figure it was his fault somehow. He doesn't have the strength to even check if Zayn is still looking out at the town or if he's looking at him now.
      "I... I don't know. It's not your fault or anything, Z, you gotta know that... I guess it just happened so slowly to where it never felt important enough to talk about until it was too late," Louis lamely fumbles to the air more than to Zayn, admitting all of this being easier that way. He takes drags of his cigarette relentlessly until Zayn replies.
      "What happened?" It's only two simple words, Zayn always being the more short-winded type, but they hit Louis hard. No one's really asked him, save for Stan inadvertently demanding him to tell him during their argument a while ago. This feels different now though, the possibility of not having to answer him making him want to cry for some reason. He takes another drag before he speaks.
      "I... it's hard to explain, I guess; maybe that's why I've never wanted to talk about it," Louis absentmindedly supplies as he tries to think of the right way to put it into words. "I guess it's just that me and Harry started gradually getting more and more... distant, you know? It took me a while to notice it, but then more and more realizations kept dawning on me and adding up until it was undeniable. Like I first noticed how even though we had sex every night usually, we always ended up sleeping on the opposite sides of the bed. Then we kept having to cancel our date nights for work, and then we hardly ever saw one another in the day, and when we did, we hardly talked. And then I realized how little we said 'I love you' anymore, which is dumb but jarring to realize."
      Louis pauses for a moment, trying to grasp onto all of his thoughts as his chest winds tighter and tighter and his stomach throbs with pain. The stinging feeling in his heart is back now too. Instead of giving feedback or saying anything, though, Zayn remains quiet and lets Louis continue. So he does.
      "More and more often I kept waking up alone in the middle of the night just to see Harry smoking alone on the balcony; he's never smoked, always hated it. That realization scared me a lot. What really got to me was one day, one of his friends asked me what his favorite color was for his birthday gift that he was getting him, and I realized that I didn't even know it anymore. That's kind of when I realized that I was living more with a stranger than someone I knew and loved, you know?"
Silence stays in the air between them, and Louis doesn't feel quite ready yet for the conversation to fall flat, so he keeps rambling, trying to justify himself.
"It sounds dumb when I say it out loud, I know, but it was like I couldn't even be near him anymore without feeling the need to throw up from how anxious I was... That isn't love, it just isn't... So then all of the sudden I just knew that I had to take a break to sort things out, and that's where we are now."
      Finally taking a full breath, Louis shifts his eyes over to Zayn as the air falls quiet for good now, wondering what his face looks like. Though he could appear to be cold at times, his brooding face often told many emotions for his different feelings, it just took a long time of Louis knowing him to recognize it. Right now he's looking down at the banister with a calculative expression, like he's trying to process all of this new information and sort it out properly.
      Louis turns back out to the city landscape, trying to regulate his breath by taking another drag of his cigarette. It's almost out by now.
      "What was Harry's reaction? You know, to the whole break thing?" Zayn finally asks, looking up to send a questioning glance Louis' way. Louis wasn't really prepared for this question even though it's a logical one to ask, probably because he hasn't really had the strength to think about Harry's reaction or his pained face since the incident happened. His stomach twists, and he feels it lurch at the memory.
      "He... didn't agree. He kept on repeating how I was the only one for him, but..." Louis falls silent as his throat closes up, the tears building in his eyes.
      "But what?" Zayn simply implores.
      "But, it's like, he didn't even notice that anything was wro-ng!" Louis' voice breaks, betraying him as he tries to keep the tears from falling, not wanting to let Zayn see him like this. "For months I just noticed one thing after another about all that was wrong between us, and when I finally brought it up, he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about. I think that's the worst part about it... I think that's why I can't just let this break be over so quickly no matter how much he begs for it to be. I feel so cruel, but I need him to really think and understand all of the pain and concerns I was going through for months, you know?"
      The air falls silent once again, only a few tears having made it down Louis' cheeks. He's fine, he's fine, and he tells himself so as he tries to subtly wipe his tears away as he brings his cigarette up for its last drag. He hopes that Zayn doesn't notice the way his cheeks glisten in the faint moonlight.
"I get it... I think you made the right decision," Zayn supplies simply after a few more drags from his cigarette, making Louis previously think that the silence between them was his answer.
To say that Louis is surprised would be an understatement, the way he freezes and turns to Zayn questioningly with widened eyes giving him away.
"You- you think I made the right decision? Why?" Louis asks dumbly, not quite sure what else to say. He was sure that Zayn was going to tell him how he was wrong and each individual thing that he could have done better because although Zayn is very supportive of him, it's just in his nature to constructively criticize, even if it's a bit brutal at times. Louis's still waiting for him to tell him how he should apologize to Harry this very moment or something like that.
"I think... I think that if something was troubling you that much and Harry didn't even notice, then there is a problem there, and you do need to do something about it. I would have probably suggested more important communication between the both of you and discussion of both of your thoughts and concerns so the whole situation would be completely understood by the both of you, but I do think you were right for taking a break. Something like that requires a shift in the relationship in order to solve it, you can't just brush it over. Especially after being together for seven years," Zayn says resolutely, finishing off his cigarette too. Surprisingly, neither him or Louis reach for a second one even though there are enough for both to have at least three each.
"You... you really think I'm in the right for my decision?" Louis asks as he grips the banister, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as everything starts to ache like it usually does when he thinks for too long nowadays. He just doesn't understand how Zayn is actually on his side with little to no criticisms. It's just unheard of, especially as his close friend.
"Yes, Lou. Why is that so hard to believe?" Louis can feel Zayn's eyes on him after he asks the question, but he refuses to meet his gaze as he feels himself burn all over. Tears are in his eyes again although he doesn't really know why, and he feels sick too.
"There- there is no way that I made the right decision when I just dropped Harry like that. That was the worst decision I've ever made-"
"No, Lou. You did the right thing. You may need to work on yourself too, but Harry really needs some time to self-reflect on your relationship with him," Zayn cuts him off, placing his hand over Louis' hand gripping the banister with a death-grip in order to relax his hold. Louis didn't even realize how hard he was holding on until then.
"How can it be the right decision when I feel so wrong?" Louis suddenly bursts out, stepping away from the banister and defeatedly looking Zayn in the eyes. More tears are making their way down his face and he's sure that his friend can see them now, but he can't bring himself to care, too distressed by the insistent twisting in his gut.
Zayn's looking back at him, but his concerned face tells Louis that he wants him to keep speaking. So he does. "E-Ever since I was stupid enough to bring up the whole situation to Harry and decided to take a break, I've been in, just, constant pain!" Louis exclaims exasperatedly, all of his inner turmoil surfacing just to hash it onto Zayn. "Every fucking thing makes me think of him, even dumb things that seem impossible to connect him to, and every dumb fucking memory just makes me hurt more because he's not here and I don't know if he'll ever be back and-" his voice cuts off for a second, too choked up, "and there is just no way in hell that making the right decision would me feel this shitty."
Zayn looks hurt now, gazing into Louis with such a strong force of sympathy that the other boy doesn't know what to do. Louis' throat has closed by now and many more tears have accompanied the others on his cheeks. He feels so cracked open and vulnerable, spilling all of this pathetic shit onto his best friend and letting him see his worst parts. He wants to take it back, but he's also too tired to ever want to have all of those concerns still lodged in his head, so he just turns back to the town's skyline when he can't take Zayn's pitying look anymore.
"You know," Zayn's voice enters the air somberly after a good amount of silence, Louis still somewhat sizzling from his admittance. "Sometimes making the right decision can make you feel like you have the worst outcome. But just know that what you're feeling now is somehow not as bad as how you would have felt if you kept going on like this for years. Right decisions can lead to eventual recovery, but wrong ones only lead to eventual destruction."
His last statement renders Louis silent, making him consider all of the possibilities of taking a break versus what all could have happened if he never spoke up. He thinks of all of the different ways each situation could lead to him being alone forever and destroyed emotionally, hardly seeing a good outcome to either one. He continues brewing like this for a while, standing silently next to Zayn in the chilly night air, until the other boy finally speaks again.
"You'll figure it out," he says cryptically, the statement seeming random but soothing Louis in a way that no one else could have. He turns to hug him, his shorter frame instinctually going up on his tiptoes in order to hook his chin over Zayn's shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, both cold boys holding onto each other, Louis admittedly sniffling a bit from crying earlier.
"I have to go now, but promise me that you won't smoke too many of these tonight, okay?" Zayn's says light-heartedly as he steps out of hug, keeping one of his hands on Louis' shoulder and the other shaking the pack of cigarettes teasingly. He's always been protective even though Louis has always known how to hold his own, and Zayn is aware of that fact as well. Louis's protective of him too, though, so he considers it a brotherly thing.
"Promise," Louis says with a crooked smile adorned on his face, somewhat forgetting how to do it properly. He wants to hug Zayn one more time, one more hug for the road, but he's already pushed him by basically yelling at him the whole time and never once asking about him. So, he decides to cut off his selfishness and lets Zayn go.
      He clutches onto his returned pack of cigarettes as he watches Zayn leave the balcony, sending him a small smile to reassure him that it's fine that he goes. Louis really wishes that he had someone to be with him for one night, feeling so alone all of the time, but he supposes that his journal and Harry's shirt will have to be enough for now.