The Boy in the Bookstore | l.s ✔

Eleven

Dedicated to LB_oppa

Sorry about this not being uploaded days ago, I started this on 22nd July and then everything went crazy on twitter and I didn't wanna miss anything. It literally took me three days to write 300 or so words, which is very slow and it got quite frustrating. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter :)

(Waning: mentions of eating problems, body dysmenorrhia and self harm. Parts of the chapter where this these subjects are mentioned will be marked with a '*' and links of websites support is available will be linked like always. My DMs are open here and in twitter, stay safe.)

Louis was staying the night in Harry's small bedroom. Anne was skeptical about leaving the two boys alone together, but she let it slide. * She didn't expect to see Louis holding her son whilst he was shaking in his arms. She knew Harry was hurting, and that he had been hurting since that disastrous trip to Manchester. She saw everything that he tried to hide because of how bad Harry was at keeping secrets. She knew the long sleeves and the baggy clothes weren't a new fashion choice. Harry just kept pushing her away, and that scared her. He had barely said a word to her, he barely spoke anymore. * Anne had to hide her feelings, she couldn't let Harry know that her son's behaviour was making her upset. Louis was the only person Harry would talk to, and she was hurt by that. She was happy that Harry felt so comfortable around the older boy, but she wished that he could still trust her. Anne wanted to dislike Louis, she wanted to get him away from Harry, but deep down, she knew that Louis was the reason Harry got up in the mornings.

'L-louis, please never stop holding me like this.' Harry whimpered, grabbing onto Louis like he was a rope, about to catch him if was about to fall.

'I'm not going to, love. I'm here until you don't need me anymore. I'm not gonna leave, you know that.'

'I just get scared, Lou.' he buried his head in Louis' chest, and Louis held him. Harry began to cry again, and Louis held him, reassuring him. He was so lucky to have a supportive boyfriend. It was getting late, and both boys were tired. All Harry wanted was to be able to fall asleep and be protected by his boyfriend, but he knew that Louis was vulnerable too. The attitude to men and mental illness was rough, Harry knew this first hand. He wished people understood how hard it was to have to bury how he felt, and not let it get too much. He wished society didn't perceive teenage boys as testosterone furled robots. That's what Harry liked about Louis. He didn;t seem to care that Harry was sensitive. He felt like at school, even with his friends he couldn't break down and cry. Louis made him feel like he could be Harry, and that he could embrace the things that made him who he was. He drifted off to sleep without music that night, listening to the soft breathing of the small boy holding him tight was enough.

-

'Why can't you just accept him, for God's sake? He's your son, you should be able to see past this whole gay thing.' Jay yelled, getting angry and trying her hardest to make Louis' father see that their son was still the same kid he always was.

'Because no child of mine is gay. It's me or him Jay. Make your choice.' he snapped, knowing if he shouted loud enough he would win.

Louis was in his room, trying to blast music over his parents' shouting match that was going on downstairs. He was crying, trying to stifle his sobs so he wouldn't draw attention to the fact he was upset about his dad's reaction. 'You always have to ruin everything, don't you?' he thought. He needed a release, he needed to get his anger at himself out. He needed an outlet. Standing up, he walked over to the mirror on his wall and slammed his right fist into it, hard. The glass cracked, and his wrist hurt badly. Squeezing his eyes shut, he punched it again, and again until there was blood everywhere. His whole hand had gone numb, and he knew that was a bad sign. He couldn't move his hand, and he was in the worst pain. At least he was thinking about something other than the fact that his own father would sooner not be his dad than Louis be who he was. Jay came rushing in, obviously startled after hearing the loud noises coming from her oldest child's bedroom. When she saw him crying on the floor, she rushed over, trying to comfort him.