next to you ❀ l.s.

three - privacy

Louis quickly discovered that Harry rarely slept through the night, although he couldn't quite figure out if it was by habit or by choice or something else. Just a few days after moving in, he also realized that their bedrooms shared a wall. And a very thin wall, at that.

Although Liam and Niall had begged him to go out with them that Friday night, Louis just couldn't muster the energy to do it. The first week of classes had completely drained him, and he already needed a break. And besides, Harry had spent the day with his mum and wouldn't be home until late, and to be completely honest, the only reason Louis had even briefly considered going out was to spend more time with the curly-haired boy.

So, while his friends went out somewhere to get drunk and dance themselves silly, Louis just collapsed into bed, sleep overtaking him almost immediately.

A few hours later, though, he startled awake to the sound of a terrifying scream. He leapt out of bed, fully convinced that he would find a burglar springing across his room with a knife poised to stab him, but he found his bedroom completely dark and empty.

After a pause, once his pounding heart started to return to its normal rhythm, he could hear the muffled sounds of crying, then quiet footsteps moving in the opposite direction. As the sleepy fog clouding his mind started to fade, he realized that the sounds came from Harry's apartment.

Crawling back into bed, Louis tried to go back to sleep. He really, really tried. But before he knew what he was doing, he was sitting up in bed and leaning his head back against the wall. He heard Harry re-enter his own room. Thinking he could make out the sound of a conversation, Louis strained to hear through the wall, only barely keeping himself from standing up to press his ear against it. He hardly let himself breathe, trying desperately to make out the odd sounds seeping through the thin plaster.

Then . . . oh. That was definitely the sound of Harry moaning. And the steady slap of skin . . . oh. Okay, Harry was having sex. Louis was eavesdropping on Harry while he was having sex.

Louis practically jumped away from the wall, diving back under his covers and pressing a pillow over his ear. Guilt coursed through his entire body. He had seriously invaded Harry's privacy just now, but he still couldn't stop thinking about what had come before -- the screaming, and the crying. Louis still couldn't drift off, his thoughts consumed with worry for the curly-haired boy.

And the sounds of his beautiful moans, but Louis pushed that memory to the back of his mind.

As stupid and nosy as he felt, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he knew why Harry had been crying. And why he had been screaming -- because seriously, the sound still echoed hauntingly in Louis's ears. He shivered at the memory.

A loud bang ripped Louis from his thoughts, and he cautiously removed the pillow from his ear for the first time. The night had settled back into a heavy silence, and Louis knew that Harry's sexual partner had just left, slamming the front door behind him.

And what could that be other than a sign?

Still silently cursing himself, Louis climbed out of bed, tugging on a sweatshirt and making a pathetic effort to fix his hair. A few minutes later, he was knocking firmly on the front door of Harry's apartment, waiting awkwardly in the dimly-lit hallway.

"Just a minute!" Harry's voice called, muffled slightly by the thin walls of the apartment. Then he opened the door just a few moments later, a shocked look flashing across his face when he found Louis standing just outside his door.

Louis cleared his throat. "Hi. Is everything okay? I thought I heard, um, some noises." The lights in Harry's flat were off, so dark shadows danced across the curly-haired boy's face.

Harry shook his head, heat rising to his cheeks. "Yeah, I'm okay. I just had a friend over."

"Oh. Okay. That's cool." Pushing his luck, Louis took a step closer to the open door, and Harry ducked his head, feeling even more embarrassed with the older boy's watchful eyes studying him. "Are you sure you're okay? Have you been crying?"

Harry swiped quickly at his eyes before pasting on a small smile, and that gave Louis the only answer he really needed. "I'm fine."

Naturally, Louis was torn. Because clearly, Harry wasn't fine. But he didn't want to force the boy to talk about things he wasn't ready to talk about. Feeling uncomfortable with the older boy's silence, Harry brushed a stray curl away from his face, turning his head slightly as he did so.

And the light in the hallway caught his cheek for the first time, and Louis's breath caught in his throat. Without fully thinking through his actions, Louis reached forward to grasp Harry's wrist, pulling the taller boy out into the fluorescent lights. His face sported a series of deep purple bruises, spreading from his jawline to the underneath of his eye.

Louis's eyes darkened, and his grip on Harry's wrist tightened unintentionally. "Who did that to you?" he demanded, still eying the dark marks.

"Lou --" Harry exhaled shakily, although he didn't protest Louis's hold on his arm.

"I swear to god, Harry, tell me right now. I'll kill him," Louis said bluntly, his anger rising into his chest and spilling freely from his lips. "I'll fucking kill him, Harry. That's so not okay."

"No, it's not like that. I . . . I let him do it." Harry swallowed hard, breaking eye contact with the older boy and looking down at the floor between them. After a pause, he added with a slight stutter, "I-I wanted him to."

Louis raised his eyebrows. Part of him wanted to believe Harry's words -- everyone had their own fucked-up kinks, and who was he to judge? -- but the waver in Harry's voice left him unconvinced.

"I promise," Harry whispered, attempting to fill the heavy silence once he realized Louis wasn't going to say anything else.

The shake in Harry's voice made Louis decide that he was definitely not convinced. Far from it. "Your boyfriend shouldn't be pushing you around. That's not right, Harry, and you need to --"

"He's not my boyfriend," Harry interrupted, raising his eyes to lock with Louis's for the first time in a few minutes.

Louis stopped. "What?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Harry repeated firmly.

"Okay, he's not your boyfriend," Louis agreed nonchalantly, despite the schoolboy-type butterflies that filled his stomach with the confirmation that Harry didn't actually have a boyfriend. "Whoever he is, just don't let him push you around, okay? Even if you want it or ask for it or whatever. I'm not here to judge you, but don't let him go too far."

"I won't," Harry promised, his voice still shaky and uncertain. "I won't, Lou."

Louis's stomach flipped at the nickname. "Just let me know if you ever need anything, okay?" he said. "Seriously, anything at all."

Harry offered him a grateful smile. "Thank you. You're really too kind."

Louis shook his head, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm not too kind," he denied, studying the curly-haired boy's puffy eyes carefully. "I just . . . I want to be there for you when you need someone."

And for the first time in his life, Harry wanted to tell someone everything. He wanted Louis to hold him while he talked about all of the pain he kept locked away inside. He wanted to stop hiding from the world outside; he didn't want to be scared anymore, because something about Louis made him feel safe for the first time in his life.

Instead, he just whispered, "Goodnight, Lou," before slowly closing the door to his apartment. Louis stared back at him until his green eyes disappeared completely from view and the lock clicked securely into place.

"Goodnight, Harry." And a nagging thought in the back of Louis's mind wondered if Harry would ever feel safe enough to ask him for anything at all.