I don't understand

Leave me

Louis wiggled his toes and stretched out his limbs, smiling sleepily to himself. He felt better rested than he had in months. He was warm and he was happy. Today was going to be a good day. Louis rolled over to grab his phone and check the time. Well, he tried to roll over but he found he was attached to another person.

Harry.

Louis’ heart constricted as he gazed down at Harry who was wrapped tightly around his torso; both arms hugging Louis securely and legs entwined with his. His chocolate brown curls messily framed his pale face and scattered across the pillows. His eyelashes were brushing the bruised skin under his eyes that were evidence of his sleepless nights. His luscious pink lips were ever so slightly quirked upwards in a smile. Harry looks so peaceful, just like Louis felt in his arms. Then why? Why had Harry said those things, reacted the way he had, broken Lou’s heart? Louis just didn’t understand.

Louis savoured the feeling of being in his love’s arms for a few more seconds, knowing he would not get to again, before realising that he was just torturing himself. Louis rolled over and tried to slyly slip out of Harry’s grip, but the younger boy made a soft, low whine (which Louis found unbelievably sexual) and tightened his arms around Louis. “No Loulou,” Harry half begged, half groaned, his voice raspy from sleep and alcohol, snuggling closer to Louis’ warm body. Damn it, you would have to have a heart of stone to push off the half naked, sleepy boy beside him. But Louis had to do it, for him.

“Harry, I’ve got to go.” Harry’s limbs clenched with tension and he shot upright, only to regret it severely when he realised how hung over he was. Harry groaned loudly and grabbed his head, trying to stop the pounding in his skull.

“Fuckkkkk, how much did I drink last night?” Harry’s face paled significantly and his hand flew up to cover his mouth as bile started rising in his throat. Harry threw himself off the bed, hitting the floor heavily as his legs got tangled in the blanket, before stumbling to the bathroom and retching into the sink. Louis hovered by the bathroom door, dithering about what to do. He couldn’t leave Harry like this, sick Harry had always been his weakness, even if self-inflicted.

“Look, how about I make you breakfast and we’ll talk?” Louis offered, regretting it with a hole in his heart when Harry’s face brightened up, despite the fact he threw up again a second later. He should have left before Harry woke up, it would have been better for both of them. He didn’t want to give Harry false hope that they could mend their relationship, they couldn’t. He couldn’t forgive Harry.

Harry just moaned his agreement and gestured that he would follow Louis in a minute when he felt better. Louis left the bathroom with a heavy heart and wandered into the kitchen. It was amazing how it looked exactly the same as when he left, even his carrot tea towel was still in prize place above the sink. Louis searched the fridge and the cupboards, finding no food of substance except a few rotten pieces of fruit and some beers; tea would have to do. Louis pulled his favourite Yorkshire tea out of the cupboard and made two cups of tea.

“Didn’t think you could make anything else without burning down the kitchen?” Harry joked weakly as he appeared in the doorway, pushing a damp curl out of his eye and flopping down at the table in front of his Haz <3 Boobear mug.

“You don’t have any food in the house Harry.” Louis raised an eyebrow challengingly and sat down opposite Harry.

“Oh,” Harry scratched his head uncomfortably and shifted in his chair, “Guess it’s been a while since I’ve been food shopping.”

“How are you doing?” Louis questioned, berating himself over the softness of his tone as he eyed Harry’s pale face over his cup of tea.

“So hungover.” Harry took a long sip of tea and sighed happily as it warmed and settled his tummy. “Make tea perfectly.” He mumbled, warming his hands on his mug.

Louis tried to ignore the lurch in his stomach when Harry complimented him, even over something as stupid as his tea making skills. Louis cleared his throat, “I meant how are you doing generally?”

Harry shrugged, hiding his gaze from Louis’ perceptive eyes, not wanting to showcase just how vulnerable being around Louis made him feel. “Our-my-apartment feels odd. Lonely.”

Louis blinked and swallowed a harsh sigh, ignoring Harry’s comment. “Why didn’t you go home for a while? Anne would have loved having you home while you recovered.”

Harry brought his eyes up to Lou’s, truly confused. Could Louis not see that he couldn’t bear to be without him for a few hours, how could he possibly go all the way home to Holmes Chapel?

“I’m fine.” Harry insisted weakly, his green orbs darting away from Louis’ so he couldn’t read them. “Besides I wanted to be near the boys.”

“You’re not fine Harry,” Lou sighed again, his voice quavering a little from all his pent up emotion; from the frustration, the hurt, the anger, the confusion, the concern, the love. “You should go stay with one of the guys. Liam has a spare room. Or Niall would love to have you. You shouldn’t be alone, not until you’re better.”

Harry stood abruptly, stumbling slightly and yanked open a kitchen cupboard to get a glass, just so Louis couldn’t see the tears that were welling in Harry’s eyes when he didn’t suggest he came and lived with him. Harry hunched over the tap and swallowed the lump in his throat so he could answer Louis, praying that Louis couldn’t hear the hurt in his voice. Since when had he ever had to hide what he was feeling from Louis? Why had everything changed? “I wouldn’t want to be a bother, besides like I said, I’m fine.” Harry answered slowly, trying to infuse breeziness into his tone but it just sounded fake, hollow.

“Harry, you were in a serious accident and you damaged your head. You need someone to look after you, you’re meant to be taking things easy.” Louis continued, his tone becoming more heated as Harry refused to look or answer him.

“Then why don’t you look after me?” Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. He quickly span right back around, cheeks burning red and heart beating wildly.

There was a long deafening silence.

“Harry, I’m not going to move back in with you.” Harry’s head dropped and a tear fell from his eyes, his hands were clenched tightly on the sink as he tried to stop the sob that was stuck in his throat. He couldn’t quite believe Louis had said that. He couldn’t quite believe that someone was capable of inflicting this much pain on him. He felt like he was being ripped apart. What the hell had happened to the two of them?

Louis couldn’t stand it; he could tell from Harry’s posture that he had hurt him terribly. But Harry had hurt him more and he would again if Louis let him get close again. Yet, Harry was so fragile at the moment...

Louis stepped forward and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to-“

The muscles in his shoulder bunched immediately as he tensed and tried desperately to shrug  off Louis’ hand. “Please just leave.” His voice was cracked and Louis could tell he was struggling not to cry. Louis had never felt like a more horrible person.

“Haz...” Louis implored, not sure what he needed to say, only that something needed to be said to try and recover what was left of their friendship.

“If you don’t want me-e,” Harry’s voice stuttered with pain and he pressed a hand against his eyes to hold back the tears, “Just leave me.” Harry couldn’t finish the sentence, it was too painful. Louis observed him for a second, his heart breaking with Harry’s, before nodding and leaving quickly, pretending not to hear the sobs as he exited his old apartment.