Bag of Bones (Larry Stylinson)

10

And I hope you leave right before the sun comes up
So I can watch it alone

Ever since the first time he and Louis had slept in the same bed together, Harry had always made it clear to him that he liked to be cuddled. Being the little spoon despite his large size was just another thing Louis easily fell in love with along all of the other adorable quirks Harry had. Louis didn't realize how much he liked being the big spoon until he slept with Harry, finally having someone he cared enough to protect in that way.
Even if there was any question if he liked being the little spoon, Louis knew the answer to it now. He does not like being the little spoon, not at all.
Louis hates being coddled, being cramped, being held back, and that is all what being the little spoon entailed for him. He hates Marcus' warm breath on his neck, he hates how they are both still messy from before because Marcus trapped him in a cuddle before he could get up and suggest cleaning themselves off, and he hates not being able to stretch out his legs. It's an awful experience, and it just makes him think of how much he misses Harry more.
Louis waits until the breathing against his neck has steadied and then waits an extra five minutes just to make sure that Marcus is actually asleep. Once he's sure the other man is unconscious, he quietly slips out from his hold and puts a pillow in his place as to not wake him. Louis would smile at his Indiana Jones-esc maneuver he used to escape Marcus' hold, but he's too lost and sad to even manage a smile as he looks over the other man to make sure he's still asleep.
After ensuring that he didn't disturb Marcus' rest, Louis makes his way to the bathroom. He feels utterly filthy, not being able to get what he just did out of his head. He can't even manage to assess himself in the mirror before turning on the shower water, jacking it to the hottest mode. He makes sure to lock the door as he waits for the water to warm up, staring at the wall blankly in order to avoid looking at himself in this state.
His sides hurt from Marcus' grip, probably leaving intentions or faint bruises along the lines of his ribs. His back aches from being angled upward for so long along with his backend, causing him to walk with a slight and uncomfortable waddle. His head is still pounding, his heart burns, and his stomach feels like a pulsing mass of pain as he just stands there all alone in the bathroom in the middle of the night. His eye also must still look awful along with how he's entirely too skinny, so he imagines himself to look like an utterly pathetic mess. He doesn't need to look at himself to confirm that, though, and he rushes into the shower once he sees that the mirror has fogged up.
Louis has only been taking cold showers for the past week because that is what he liked before Harry ever came along, and it felt nice to recognize parts of himself that he had before he changed to attune to Harry. But now as Louis feels nauseous and on the brink of tears as he holds his arms over his bruised sides, and he just wants to have something somewhat recognizable calm him, to feel closer to Harry somehow. So he stands under the shower's burning hot water and he just cries, thinking over all of his pain and Harry and how those two things seemed to be so hand-in-hand nowadays.
Louis feels gross. He feels disgusting because of what he just did with Marcus, and he just wants to scrub every last thing he did off of his body to be washed down the drain forever. No matter how much he scrubs at his sides though, the bruises don't go away. No matter how much he scrubs his scalp, his headache won't go away. No matter how much he scrubs, all of his pain is still there and he can't stop the tears from falling as he just scrubs harder and harder, helplessly hoping that it'll make a difference.
Soon enough, though, the water becomes too scalding to his skin and he realizes that scrubbing is getting him nowhere. So after a good few minutes more of crying under the hot spray of the shower, Louis shuts the water off and lets the liquid just drip off of him as he tries not to think about all of the times he showered with Harry.
He stands there, wrestling with his thoughts for a while, until the water dripping off of him turns cold and he needs to dry off. Thanking the hot water for the mirror still being fogged up, Louis quickly puts his clothes on after drying off without much worry, starting to feel numb to the contempt he feels for himself.
Still feeling cold and lost, Louis slips back into bed with Marcus, hoping that his warmth will warm and ground him in some way. Maybe he can convince himself that this is for the best, that this what he wants if he just accepts the arms wrapped around him and the offered warmth. Maybe he can finally stop thinking of Harry if he just wraps his mind with thoughts of another man.
      Louis looks at the clock to find it at 2:07 a.m., causing him to feel restless for some reason. Like earlier, he doesn't want to think anymore. He just wants to fall into blissful unconsciousness where he doesn't have to think about Harry, the arms wrapped around him, or anything in between.
      He tries everything, from holding onto Marcus' arms around him, to turning around to rest on Marcus' chest, and even to staring at the wall as he made his body go limp. Nothing worked though, Louis still ending up wide awake and craving a cigarette no matter how much he told himself that he didn't need it.
      Every time his eyes would lull closed, a shard would dig in about how Harry wasn't the one holding him. Every time he felt himself on the brink of sleep, his heart would start to burn because Marcus smelled so differently than Harry. Louis started to wonder if he'd always subconsciously compare every man he would be with to Harry in every way possible.
      The longer he stays stuck in the other man's arms, the sicker he feels. Louis wishes that Marcus would just act like a casual one night stand, just leaving once the sex was over. It'd make things a lot easier.
      But then again, Louis supposes that he deserves this pain and guilt. He deserves to not be able to fall asleep due to feeling like he's being ripped apart because he just slept with another man. He can't just do that and act like he deserves to feel fine again. No matter where his relationship is with Harry, he knows that wouldn't be fair.
      By the time 5:02 a.m. rolls around and he's still awake, Louis decides that he can't handle the sick and aching feeling in his stomach anymore. Marcus is holding onto his sides right where the bruises are, outlining Louis' biggest regret with a simple grasp, and he just needs to get away. As he tries to slip away, he holds harder onto his sides before finally letting go, causing Louis to let out a muffled sound as he tries not to cry from the slight pain. Without thinking, he gives him another pillow to hold before he walks through all of the clothes on his floor over to his box that Marcus previously moved over.
      Grabbing a sweatshirt off of the floor and slipping it over his t-shirt that he previously put on because he didn't feel comfortable with being undressed around Marcus for any longer, Louis reaches the box as he fumbles quietly around the dark room. Trying not to think because it only hurts him more, he routinely grabs one of Harry's shirts and his journal before heading out to the balcony.
      The only good thing about him being overheated earlier is that the balcony door is already slightly opened, so he doesn't make too much noise as he slips out into the cold air. Louis grabbed his pack of cigarettes before heading out too, not being able to resist any longer. He stares at the lighter for a pregnant moment before sparking it to life and bringing a cigarette to it, apologizing to Zayn in his head for breaking his promise. Every day it seemed he was becoming less and less reliable.
      All Louis wants to do is watch the sunrise alone. He remembers how towards the middle of their relationship, Louis and Harry had a silly debate over whether sunrises or sunsets were better. Louis thought sunsets were better because they were prettier and it was a perfect way to end the day with all of the pretty pinks and oranges painting the sky. Harry thought sunrises were better because of what they represented, the pleasant beginning of a new day, a pretty and new opportunity to live better than yesterday. Harry was always the more poetic one out of the two, Louis supposes.
      The argument turned pretty serious after a while though, somehow being incorporated to their everyday conversations. Harry even jokingly whispered how sunrises were better in Louis' ear during sex, which is what spurred the both of them to finally decide that they needed to reach a conclusion. They ended up deciding that they were both going to stay up twenty-four hours straight together in order to see in one day if sunsets or sunrises were truly better.
      They waited until their next day off, and then both boys decided to hold each other accountable for staying up a whole day by spending it together. Even though it was a competition, they turned it into a date, going out to the town and visiting shops as well as eating out all day. They were having dinner at a local pasta place when the time for the sunset finally came, deciding to eat outside to get the full experience.
      Though the sunset was somewhat cut off due to the surrounding buildings, it was still beautiful, the sky blazing from red to orange to pink as light shades of purples and blues mixed in the clouds. It was almost like a painting with how beautiful it was, and Louis went on and on about how great it looked while Hardy tried to remain unimpressed although he took countless pictures of it, half of them consisting of Louis photobombing and goofing off with their complimentary breadsticks.
      Considering that they still had a lot of time to kill, they stayed out till late, getting ice cream cones and walking and talking as they made their way around the town until they had to hurriedly lick the cones once they realized that the ice cream was dripping. Louis remembers it as one of the nights that he laughed the most.
      They returned home around midnight, both of them being tired from walking around for most of the day and then stuffing themselves with pasta and ice cream. They held each other accountable, though, and forced each other to stay up from playing board games, watching action-filled TV shows, and then coming up with their own games to play when they got bored of the board games.
      Harry was too determined to win their silly fight, and as the hour turned to five in the morning, he made the both of them build a makeshift pillow fort out on their balcony for the best experience possible for the sunrise. Louis suggested putting up fairy lights, saying how Harry would like it but secretly suggesting it because he personally loved how they looked. Harry refused the idea, though, saying how artificial light would ruin the experience.
      They teasingly bickered as they continued to build the pillow fort, and it was just nearing six when they finished and bundled in it together. Laying on their stomachs towards the railing of the balcony like two little kids, they both sleepily watched the sky shift from a dark blue to a gradient of lighter blues silently. Soon enough, the sky seemed doused in a light pink as they saw the sun poke over the skyline, highlighting all of the buildings and their surroundings to be golden in slants.
      It was gentler than a sunset, with less brash colors and more softer ones, but it seemed perfect for Harry to Louis.
      "That's it, Harry," Louis mumbled sleepily as he overlooked the golden town from their balcony fort.
      "What's what?" he questioned, sleep heavy in voice too. Louis smiled to himself as he finally turned his head from the sky to Harry's sleepy face.
      "You're like the sunrise; you're gentle despite how great you are and you turn everything you interact with golden." It didn't make much sense coming out of his mouth, but it made sense to his tired mind as he smiled at Harry.
      Tearing up, Harry smiled back at Louis. "And you're like the sunset, graceful and beautiful no matter how bold and brash you tend to be, and you have your softer sides that you can only see if you look hard enough. And you're the perfect end to my day," Harry mumbled, the unaltered fondness on his face almost making Louis shy.
      "And you're the perfect beginning to my day," Louis finished, bringing his hand up to Harry's face to brush his hair behind his ear.
      "You know what? I think I officially like sunsets the most now," Harry admitted with a sleepy smile as he tried not to nod off.
      "As much as I'd like to take this moment and rub it in your face how I'm right and you're wrong, I have to say that I officially like sunrises the most now," Louis gushed, allowing himself to be sappy just this once. He blamed it on his state of unrest, but that was just how Harry made him: all warm and mushy and sappy. And right before both of the boys both fell asleep out on their balcony in a little pillow fort at the very beginning of the day, Louis kissed Harry softly and then rested his head to stare at him as he nodded off to sleep.
      Louis thinks about that now as he's sits on the cold tile floor of Stan's balcony, no fort or blanket or anything to warm him save for Harry's t-shirt that he stole. He tries to sniff it to bring himself some sense of warmth or familiarity, to convince himself that right now isn't all too different from that date he just remembered, but Harry's fading scent only makes Louis' gut lurch more as his heart burns.
      He feels so cold as he brings the cigarette up to his mouth, thinking about how Harry would hate to kiss him now since he tasted of nicotine. Louis wishes that sunrises weren't still his favorite after all of this time, wishes that they didn't still remind him of Harry. Maybe then he would actually get rest instead of staying up every night in hopes of seeing him in the skyline again. As Louis sits all alone, cold, and aching on the balcony floor, smoking and sniffing Harry's fading scent to feel some kind of warmth like he used to feel, he wishes that he wasn't cursed with seeing Harry in the way the sun rises for what was most likely the rest of his life.