Fine Line || L.S.

Remembering What It Is to Love You (The Right Way)

Louis woke in the morning, lying in the bed of one of his spare bedrooms, feeling guilty. He had dreamt about the letter Harry wrote, and in the dream, which was undoubtedly the strangest projection his subconscious could muster, he was alone in the desert and talking to a bodiless voice about giving people the cold shoulder.

It was a weakness he was aware of. He was very good at treating people how he felt and often failed at telling them. Harry was always privy to it, and often gave Louis the room to be like this.

But Louis knew the way he had treated Harry—ignoring him, passive-aggressive moves, his classic, "Yes, I'm fine," was the thing that would have to change. Louis did remember one day, on a three-day break between time in LA that Harry had been home in 2017, that he had snapped at Louis.

Louis had slept on the couch in the living room, and when Harry asked if everything was alright, Louis said, "Never been better."

"Instead of being sarcastic you could give sincerity a shot, Louis," Harry sighed. Louis remembered how tired he looked, and how, despite being at his most vulnerable with Harry, many times over, he felt too vulnerable to be comfortable, and instead of being tender, withdrew.

"You're home," Louis said, "I've never been better."

On Harry's very rare day off, he retreated to their bedroom, watched TV, and made some business calls. Louis had made him retreat, and at the time, Louis didn't know why.

As he made himself a coffee in his house, as Eleanor quietly began to pack her shoes in their master bedroom, he realized that few times had he been in a lower spot than he was when Harry first embarked on his solo career.

It came on the coattails of his mom's death, and at a particularly hard time for his career and ego. He was nothing but proud of Harry, and wanted nothing but success for him. But his own inability to get good footing was difficult to deal with as Harry took off, and that feeling of failure as an artist translated to feelings of failure as a partner and lover.

Louis hadn't felt worthy of Harry's care and devotion, of his love for him despite Louis' coldness and hardness. It was an endless cycle—Louis' sense of unworthiness was brought about by Harry's love, and because of that he couldn't accept Harry's love, which worsened his feelings of unworthiness, and made him a, frankly, bad partner. He didn't see himself as deserving.

He recognized the pattern then and knew it was something he would need to pay attention to if he and Harry were to make it work. He sat down at the dining table, as it began to rain in Los Angeles, and drank his coffee.

As he finished the mug, he saw a text. It was from Harry.

Just thinking about you. I'm not trying to rush you. Just wanted to make sure you were ok.

Louis smiled at the phone and decided to try his hand at vulnerability.

We're good. Eleanor's beginning to pack some stuff. I might not need the week.

Louis watched as the text sent, and felt just a fraction of the excitement he felt when he and Harry first met in 2010. Just a fraction, but it was enough for him to get that funny feeling in his stomach. A new text from Harry appeared.

Whenever you're ready. I've been staying at the old house.

Louis smiled and typed.

Not too lonely?

Harry replied quickly.

I absolutely am. But I don't want you to feel rushed.

Louis rolled his eyes, only with love, at Harry's sensitivity, and put down his phone. He wanted to see Harry, more than anything, but he needed to do it at a time he could have his feelings sorted, at a time when he could be completely tender, open, and loving with Harry. It was Harry deserved.