Bag of Bones (Larry Stylinson)

12

Mercy on me, would you please spare me tonight?
I'm tired of this searching, would you let me let go?

By the time Louis returns back to the apartment after trudging out of the store with red eyes and the new bedsheets to go on the bus home, Stan has already retired to his room for the night even though it wasn't that late. Louis found that he did that sometimes, just disappeared for the night for no apparent reason. He supposes that everyone needs time to themselves.
Not thinking too much about the eerily empty apartment, Louis walks back to his room with the sheets reassuring himself that he's fine. He may have blown up a bit on Liam, but he'll send him a text to apologize again to hopefully not trouble him too much. He's fine, though, honestly. He grips the sheets so tightly as he walks to the room that his knuckles turn white.
Louis had decided on the bus ride home that he needs to become okay with being alone. That will stop him from doing stupid stuff like some of the worst decisions he's made in the past like calling Harry just to yell at him or calling Marcus over just to sleep with him to forget Harry. So he reassures the trembling in his hands and the burning feeling in his chest that standing here alone in his room is the best thing he can be doing right now even though it doesn't really feel like it. He's not sure what the best thing he could be doing right now is anymore, though.
He decides the most logical thing to do now is to put the sheets on the bed and finally fall back asleep so he doesn't have to think about the aching absence of not having someone near him anymore. So that's what he does, and he restores the bed to the state it looked like when he first came to Stan's apartment fairly quick, having had practice from his episode earlier. He only feels like throwing up a little bit this time, so he considers it a win.
Not being able to stare at his still-messy room anymore, Louis retreats to the bed and buries himself in the sheets in another attempt to drown himself out from the world. After feeling so stretched thin non-stop for over a week and a half, he finds himself not even desiring to feel good anymore; he just desires to feel nothing, really, to have a numbness to it all. That feels like it'd be best for him right now.
No matter how much Louis pushes his head into the pillows or how much he covers his body with the covers, he doesn't feel his eyelids get any heavier like before. The bed doesn't feel like it's dirty, it feels like a new and clean bed, but his soul feels like it's in a state of unrest that his body forces him to match.
The problem is that Louis hasn't really been sure how he's felt throughout this whole break because he hasn't really had someone to talk to. He used to always have Harry or Zayn or another close friend to genuinely talk to and sort through his thoughts with. But now that he has hardly no communication with anyone besides what's necessary, he just feels each emotion remain trapped inside of him without ever being fully analyzed. So instead of falling asleep to catch up on his much-needed rest, Louis's forced to feel himself brew without really understanding it.
He stays like that for a while, an hour or two just laying there with his head buried in a pillow while he feels his heart toss and turn. The aching in his stomach had subsided luckily to focus on his brewing, and he appreciated it since he figured that it was the closest he'd get to a sense of peace before sunrise.
Around 7:34 p.m., though, Louis hears a distant knock on the door. It springs many questions inside of him along with anxiety, wondering who it could possibly be. He wasn't expecting anyone, and Stan hadn't told him anything similar to that either, but maybe he had just forgotten to tell him. Judging by the silence still laying over the apartment, Louis figures that Stan didn't hear the knock and that he'll have to get it himself. It's inconvenient, but it beats just laying vacantly in a bed until he hopefully falls asleep at some point.
Standing up suddenly, Louis steadies himself on a nearby wall before trudging to the front door. His chest feels tight all of the sudden and his head is still pulsing from the sudden rush of standing up, but he quickens his pace when he hears another knock on the door since he's being so slow to answer.
He thinks about how he hasn't had lunch or dinner yet as he passes the kitchen, but he knows that he's just too afraid of throwing up again to eat so soon. He doesn't have much time to brew over that fact, though, because now he's opening up the front door in a rush and saying sorry just to find Harry standing there.
"Oh," is all Louis hears himself say, his mind blanking as he tilts his head up slightly to look at Harry for the first time in over a week and a half. It's hardly been long, but it feels like it's been months as he stares at him now.
Harry looks like he's in a similar shape as him, eye bags distinct under his eyes and his hair messy and greasy. His eyes also look sunken and really sad, and it makes Louis remember his aching gut as it twists painfully once again. He did this; this is all his fault. His eyes travel to Harry's reddened and scabbed knuckles right before the other man finally speaks.
"Louis." It's all he says, sadness clear in his voice. Both of the boys are stuck in place in a dumb silence, Harry still out in the hallway while Louis's in the apartment with his hand gripping the door handle tightly. This is reminding him somewhat of when Marcus came over just last night, and he feels so sick suddenly.
"Harry, I..." Louis starts but trails off, feeling so nauseous and in pain that he can't manage to say more. He feels his throat closing as tears instinctively rise to his eyes. He just wishes that breathing wasn't so difficult nowadays to him.
"Liam told me about how he found you in the store. I- I knew I had to come," Harry supplies, looking worriedly into Louis' eyes. At least, that's how Louis thinks he's looking at him; there's so much emotion in the air between them, and he doesn't know Harry well enough anymore to be able to interpret it accurately.
Not being able to muster the strength to say anything right now, Louis just steps aside to wordlessly invite Harry inside. He feels so tired and drained, his eyelids feeling heavy now along with his bones. He figures that he could slump against the wall right now and fall asleep but decides that it's probably not the best option for right now. Harry timidly steps inside, looking afraid that Louis might do something like scream how he doesn't ever want to see him again. It makes him sad, seeing Harry react to him like that. Even if Louis felt that way, he doesn't even have the energy to do all of that right now. He still has to fight himself from reaching out for Harry's hand for some reason, though.
"What did Liam tell you?" Louis asks knowing that it won't add much to the conversation. He mainly asked it because he just needs something to fill the air between them other than their sad and longing looks.
"He told me as much as you'd expect with how you acted in the store, I guess. Just that he was walking down an aisle and all of the sudden you ran and hugged him and cried for a few minutes before apologizing and disappearing as fast as you had appeared," Harry replies, them still standing in the hallway that leads to the living room. Harry sounds defeated, a tone that Louis's not used to hearing him use. It makes his chest burn more and adds another shard to his stomach.
"Louis, this- this just isn't like you," Harry says suddenly while turning to look into his eyes with an almost pleading look, interrupting the silence that had settled over them yet again. "We haven't talked in over a week and all of the sudden I get a call from Liam telling me that you came out of nowhere and cried in his arms in the middle of a store before disappearing. Do you have any idea what that's like? To receive a call like that? I'm just- I'm so worried about you Louis and I can't help it."
Harry has stepped closer now although Louis didn't really realize when that happened, too focused on his pounding head and what was coming out of the boy's mouth. His face looks so pained and it makes Louis feel sick again because this is all his fault. Harry doesn't deserve this. He feels like he needs to sit down with how weak his legs feel.
"How- how do you know what I'm like anymore?" Louis quips back, not knowing how to respond to all of this genuine concern flowing out of Harry onto him. He hates this kind of attention, he hates the feeling raging inside of him right now, and he just wants to get away from it.
"I didn't come here to fight, Louis," Harry admits with a sigh, his use of Louis' full name making him even sadder somehow. He sounds like he's at the end of his rope at this point, and if Louis's being honest, he is too. He knows that they can't be spared from a painful conversation that will have to happen at some point. But tonight, Louis thinks, tonight him and Harry deserve some mercy. So he pushes all of his aching and insecurities aside and finally gives in.
"I don't want to fight either," he admits, finally returning the eye contact Harry has been trying to initiate. He almost feels his body give out entirely at the familiarity of looking into Harry's eyes.
They remain silent for a while, just taking in one another's presence as their minds rage with all kinds of thoughts and emotions. Louis agonizes over the burning and aching and tightening feelings inside of himself as his mind tries to comprehend everything happening. He can't stop himself from thinking how it would be easier to let go of their relationship if Harry would just let him. Louis's so tired and his mind is exhausted, yet here Harry is inside of Stan's apartment without warning, bringing back so many emotions Louis can't really process at the moment.
      His mind quiets, however, when Harry takes a step towards him. He brings his hand up to Louis' cheek, but he doesn't find himself flinching away like he thought he would. He just falls into it, laying his head into Harry's hand as he lets his eyes close and his insides shut up for a second.
"Your eye," is all Harry says sadly, causing Louis to remember how he probably still has faint bruises reminiscent of when he was punched a while ago.
"I'm fine," he reassures Harry, opening his eyes to look into the other boy's to help reduce his worry.
Harry just shakes his head no, not saying anything else as he gently rubs his finger over where the faint bruises are. Louis brings his hand up to cover Harry's holding his head and focuses on that small bit of intimacy, refusing to think too much about it.
"Your hand," Louis says sadly after his fingers trace over the scabs on Harry's knuckles. He looks up to the other man with a concerned look in his eye, feeling sick once again because everything really is his fucking fault.
"It's nothing; I'm fine," Harry reassures, almost being identical to Louis earlier. Louis wants to implore and question him further, but he feels himself becoming more tired by the minute, and Harry's hand gently tracing his cheekbone wasn't helping him. He's just so exhausted from constantly fighting everyone and even himself.
"I'm going to bed," Louis says while looking Harry in the eye. It's an unsaid invitation for him to follow and join him, for him to just come and rest with him, because really all Louis wants to do right now is hold Harry and go to sleep no matter what's going on between them. Harry looks back with a question in his eyes, most likely being unsure if he's even allowed to follow Louis back to his room. Louis gives him a small nod, still holding his hand over Harry's scabbed one.
"Okay," Harry says, implying that he understands what Louis means and that he's going to follow. In this moment of minimal communication, Louis wonders once again if familiarity really can be translated as love. He's too tired to think that over, though, so he wordlessly brings Harry's hand on his face to be between them as he leads them back to his room.
Although this is immensely painful to Louis, he's glad that Harry doesn't want to fight or talk about whatever is going on between them right now. Louis knows that he doesn't have the energy for that, and it feels nice to not push himself over the edge for once.
"Your room is a mess," Harry comments quietly once they finally get to Louis' room. He can't tell if he's trying to be conversational or convicting, but he's not sure if he cares at this point.
"I know," is all Louis replies before gently leading them to the bed, pulling back the rumpled covers to get inside. They're both in sweats so they don't have to change, and Harry follows him soon after into the bed.
Before he even gives himself time to overthink it, Louis instinctually pulls Harry close to him and cuddles him from behind, being his big spoon. It makes his heart pound out of his chest and makes his stomach twist confusedly, but above all, it brings him a sense of peace he hasn't had in a while.
They both sigh when Louis pulls him close, and he can feel Harry's hands grip tightly onto his arms around him. Although there was always a war waging inside of Louis ever since this all started, he feels it quiet down more than it ever has with Harry in his arms. And for the first time ever since he's been away from Harry for more than a week and a half, Louis finally falls asleep before watching the sun rise, quite possibly because he had his sunrise in his arms.