back for you ➳ l.s.

twenty six - i went to amsterdam without you

Louis moved lifelessly through that whole week of his tour. When he had shown up to the airport without Harry by his side, Liam had been beyond confused. But as soon as he questioned the blue-eyed boy about it, Louis had given him a glare so terrifying that he hadn't dared to bring up Harry's name again.

For the entire week, everyone tiptoed around Louis like he might explode at any second. But he didn't -- he wasn't angry. He was numb. It was almost as if Harry walked out of that hotel room and took all of Louis's emotions with him.

Liam had even offered to share a room with Louis under the pathetic guise of spending more time together, but the idea had been shot down pretty much immediately. He didn't exactly like the idea of Louis being alone; even if Louis was trying hard to bottle everything up, his emotions were clearly running high on the inside.

After one of the shows, Liam found himself pacing the hallways, unable to fall asleep. Even just being backstage to one of Louis's performances always left him feeling amped up. But it was pushing four in the morning, and he tended to crash no later than two. He decided he would grab a drink from the vending machine down the hall, but he never made it there.

As he passed by Louis's room, his friend's voice rang out, muffled slightly through the thin walls. "Fuck!"

Liam paused in front of the door. Ignoring his gut instinct to just keep walking, he raised his fist and knocked.

Louis yanked the door open a few seconds later, obviously prepared to shout at whoever he found on the other side of his door. When he came face-to-face with Liam, he exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Everything okay? I thought I heard shouting."

"No, actually, everything's not okay." Louis ran his hands through his hair, which caused him to appear even more disheveled than before. He turned on his heel and headed back into his room, leaving the door open behind him as a clear invitation for Liam to follow.

Liam took a few steps into the room. He glanced around. Clothes were thrown everywhere, like Louis had been digging through his suitcase to find something important.

When Louis didn't speak for a minute, Liam bluntly asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong," Louis responded angrily. He turned to face Liam once again, holding up a plain black shirt for his friend to see. "I have Harry's fucking shirt in my bag."

Liam blinked, feeling incredibly dense. "Okay. Can't you just, like, mail it to him or something?"

"No, Liam, I can't just mail it to him," Louis snapped back, his tone clearly mocking Liam for offering such a ridiculous idea.

"Okay, mate, chill out. It was a valid suggestion. Isn't that what people usually do after break ups? Mail back the other person's things and all that?"

"No, no, you don't understand! It's his favorite shirt to sleep in. He hates sleeping without it. That means he hasn't been able to sleep for the past week, all because I'm a fucking idiot and packed his shirt in my bag!"

Louis stopped himself. His own voice sounded unfamiliar and distant in his ears. He sank down onto his knees, clutching the black shirt desperately in his hands.

"Shit, I'm an idiot." He looked up at Liam through hopeless eyes. "I'm such an idiot, Liam, I'm such a fucking idiot. I always ruin everything."

"Hey, it's alright. We'll get it back to him soon, I promise." Liam crossed the room and sat down cross-legged in front of Louis, who stared blankly down at the shirt he held in his lap. "Just talk to me, Lou. You've been so closed off this whole week. I've been really worried, honestly."

Louis didn't say a word. He opened and closed his fists around the worn material a few times.

"Why did Harry leave?" Liam watched Louis carefully, half-expecting the older boy to respond by punching him in the face.

Instead, Louis spoke up, his voice still cold, serious, and trained to argue. "He didn't."

Liam furrowed his brow, confused. "He didn't?"

"No. I sent him home."

"What? Why would you do that?"

"I broke up with him," Louis replied simply, avoiding the true root of the question. "I told him it was over between us and put him on the next flight home."

"Oh, give me a break. You're head over heels in love with that boy, Louis, and you have been since you were eighteen. You're not telling me the whole story," Liam accused.

"Maybe not," Louis confessed. He didn't elaborate further.

"So? Why did you really send him away then?" Liam pressed, still not understanding how Louis had gotten himself into this complicated situation in the first place.

"You're going to think I'm insane," Louis said softly, his voice barely reaching a shaky whisper.

"Try me."

"I had a dream." Louis raised his gaze to meet his friend's, tears shining in his piercing blue eyes. "I dreamed that someone came and took Harry away from me. I dreamed of Harry screaming, crying, bleeding, and there was nothing I could do. I was standing right there, frozen while I watched the whole thing, but there was nothing I could do. And somehow, I just knew that it was all my fault. All of his pain -- it was all my fault."

Liam shook his head, trying to keep any traces of judgement from his voice. "That's a dream, mate. It's not real life."

"I can't explain it, Li." His fingers rubbed absentmindedly at the hem of the shirt. "I just knew when I woke up that Harry was better off without me. Safer without me."

"Come on, Louis. It was a dream. Even if you were projecting from the Nick incident, or from something else, it was still just a dream."

"No, because the dream showed me that I'm selfish. He was perfectly fine before I showed back up at that diner. I need him so much," Louis's voice cracked. "But all I do is hurt him."

Liam shook his head immediately. "That's not true, mate. Niall talks to me all the time about how happy you make Harry. How much better he is when you're around," Liam denied, praying that his words resonated with Louis even in his self-deprecating state. "And either way, Harry loves you. He would walk through hell for you, Lou. I can see it in his eyes."

"But he shouldn't have to!" Louis protested.

"That's not up to you!" Liam exclaimed, raising his voice for the first time out of pure pent-up frustration. "You can only protect him so much before you're the one he needs to be protected from."

Louis fell silent. He knew that Liam was right, but it was difficult to admit that he had made such a bone-headed mistake.

"I know that making decisions for him is, like, in your nature," Liam continued. "But this one wasn't yours to make. You should've just talked to him about how you were feeling."

After a pause, Louis finally spoke aloud the terrifying thought that had been rattling around his mind for the past week: "I really screwed up, didn't I?"

Liam just shrugged, although an unspoken "yes" hung heavy in the air between them.

Then Louis buried his face in Harry's t-shirt and sobbed loudly, the familiar scent somehow both comforting and heartbreaking at the same time.

Not knowing what else to do, Liam shuffled forward and wrapped his arms around his friend. He let the boy cry hysterically into his shoulder, silently wondering how he could possibly help Louis out of this terrible mess he had made for himself.

And for Harry.