powerless - [Larry Stylinson] ✔️

chapter 16

LOUIS POV

We sat at the table making small talk. I glanced over to Harry every so often and even though he was trying his best to act natural I could tell he was fiddling nervously with his hands underneath the table. I had no idea how we were going to go about this. Maybe we should have planned this better but it was too late now.

"So Harry, what do your parents do?" Mum asked him.

I gulped and looked over at Harry, who was already looking back at me. I gave him a nod of encouragement and a small smile. He didn't give one back but I knew he was nervous and considering it took me weeks to make him smile properly I wasn't fazed by it.

"Well...m-my mum died when I was born... and my dad works as a part time bartender." He said quietly, not meeting my mums gaze.

Mums eyes widened in shock as she looked over at me with a surprised yet hurt look. I knew she felt insanely bad. I gave her a small nod confirming that I knew about it.

She looked back at Harry with an apologetic look.

"I'm so sorry I made you say that honey..." she said, guilt filling up her voice.

Harry offered a small smile and shook his head, meeting her gaze for just a second.

"It's ok, how would you have known..."

"If you don't mind me asking..." she said quietly, treating Harry like he was a porcelain doll, which I knew he wasn't. He was so strong. "Is your dad able to get enough money to pay your rent?" she asked worriedly. I leaned in to listen, I didn't actually know this answer to this yet.

"He.... He usually can muster up just about enough when people come to our house and threaten to kick us out If we don't pay. He's usually in a very bad mood on that day...." He adds quietly at the end, I knew what he meant by that, and it broke my heart.

"What do you mean by bad mood?" she asked furrowing her eyebrows worriedly. Mum was a pretty good lawyer, and she had already had cases of child abuse before. She always kept her eye out for something.

Harry opened his mouth to reply but couldn't muster up any words. I could feel the tension building up in the room. By this point all 3 of us had stopped eating.

Thankfully I was sitting on the left to Harry, so I gently slid my fingers between his, giving his hand a quick squeeze of comfort. I took my left hand which was still free and placed it on top of both our hands. My thumb gently grazed his bruised knuckles, probably from kung fu. Over the past couple weeks I had seen Harry train once or twice when I waited for him outside the studio. To say he was talented was an understatement. The reason he took kung fu in the first place still saddened me a lot but in the end it was worth it. I never would have met him if he hadn't saved me that first time.

My brain was brought back to reality when Harry sighed deeply, readying himself to answer.

"my dad... h-he has been... a-abusing me. F-for years. H-he says its my f-fault my mum died... on the worst days.. s-such as rent.. he likes to t-take his anger out on me...." he stutters quietly. I can tell he's looking for the right words.

I felt his hand tighten around mine more and more and he kept speaking.

"I need help..." he whispered so quietly both me and mum could barely hear him properly. My mum was clearly at a loss for words, much like I had been when I first found out. I rub my left hand on top of his soothingly until he relaxed at the touch.

"I don't know if Lou has told you or not..." mum started with a quiet and calming voice, "but I'm a lawyer. I promise to help you Harry. I won't stop until that man is in jail." She said sternly, yet softly at the same time.

Harry was still looking down and I couldn't see his facial expression due to his curls hanging from his head, hiding his face from me. However, as soon as a wet tear drop landed on our intertwined hands I know Harry was crying... and as usual, trying really hard to toughen up and to not cry but failing.

I gently turned his chair that was facing the table towards me and I stealthily straddled his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and nuzzling my face in the crook of his neck.

He immediately wrapped his shaking arms around me and started sobbing quietly into my shoulder.

I took a glance at my mum who was staring at us with a half shocked, half pitied expression. I couldn't blame her, after all I was in fact straddling Harry in front of her, but it was in no way what you would originally think straddling was for.

After a couple minutes Harry's heartbreaking sobs quieted down. I turn to slowly go back to my chair but his arms around my waist stopped me.

Instead I sat on his lap facing the front, with my back pressed to his chest. His arms were still snaked around me and his head resting on my shoulder.

I craned my neck to look back at him and his gaze soon met mine. His beautiful meadow green eyes were bloodshot and sad, but beautiful nonetheless.

I looked back forward to my mom again and saw her still pitiful gaze, but it was mixed with seriousness. She was thinking of something, hopefully a plan to help Harry.

As much as I wanted a set plan now I knew that this was all too much for Harry in just one night. My mums thoughtful expression showed she was thinking the same thing.

"Why don't you two boys have a good nights rest, we will figure this all out in the morning okay?" she asked softly. Harry didn't reply and kept looking down so I nodded for the both of us.

I slowly untangled myself from his grip and stood up. I grabbed both his hands in mine and gently pulled him up with me. I turned back to my mum and mouthed her a 'goodnight' to which she returned with a small smile. I let go of one of Harrys hand so we could walk side by side but kept my fingers firmly linked with his.

We made our way up the stairs and walked into my room. We went into the bathroom without talking much. I gave him a spare toothbrush and we brushed our teeth silently. As soon as we were done I walked back into my room and pulled out a shirt and a pair of the biggest sweatpants I owned since I knew Harry was a lot taller than me.

I walked back into the bathroom to find Harry staring at himself in the mirror with a blank expression. I walked over to him and placed cupped his cheek with my left hand, gently moving his head so he was facing me.

Our eyes met and for a couple seconds we stayed, gazing into each other's eyes, trying to memorize everything about them.

"Everything is going to work out..." I whispered to him.

He sighed quietly and slowly nodded. I leaned in and pressed a small peck to his lips. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It wasn't the smile I so longed to see but it was good enough.

I handed him the clothes.

"You can change into these if you want... I thought you'd be more comfortable with them." I said quietly, still whispering.

He looked down at the clothes and held the shirt in one hand while he held this sweat pants in the other.

"I don't usually wear a shirt to bed but I'll wear one today..." he croaked out quietly. His voice was still a little tired from the crying.

I quickly shook my head.

"You don't have to if you don't want... I won't be uncomfortable or anything..." I reassured him. I wanted him to be as comfortable as possible for tonight, tomorrow night and for the rest of his life really.

"I ummm... usually.... d-don't f-feel that comfortable w-with... showing m-my s-scars. They're ugly....they're horrible." He whispered, his eyes not meeting my gaze but trailed on the ground beneath him.

This heavy weight pulled onto my heart.

I sighed sadly,

"Okay... I understand. You don't have to show me anything if you don 't want..." I replied, "just.... know that if or when you decide to show me, I will never, not once, think that they're ugly. Even if they're scars, they're a part of you, and I think you're beautiful."  I say truthfully.

He looks up from the floor, his eyes meeting mine.

"Thank you..." he whispers, barely audibly, "thank you so much..."