He wants to take it back, he wants to make it so this isn't how it has to be. But he can't. He wants to hold the pieces of Harry together until they stay, but he knows that he did this, it's his fault that Harry's broken like this. He felt Harry fall apart in his hand as he forced his signature, he felt him shatter against his chest when he held him in the car on their way back home. "I don't want this," Harry says with a wobbly voice when Louis' I'm sorry's have run out. "I know, darling,"

*WARNING* Drug use and nonconsensual sex When Harry gets home, after he's dragged his sore body up the stairs, he lays on the tile floor under the scalding hot water in the shower, fully clothed, until it runs freezing cold over him. He tries to cry, to do something to make his body feel normal, but he can't. It's like his soul was torn from his body and left on that floor. He scratches at his skin and scrubs the parts of his body that aren't covered in clothes trying to clean himself of the night. It doesn't work. When he looks at himself in the mirror, his tongue is still blue from the pills, his skin is red, bruised, and cut from his nails, and there's still bright red lipstick stuck to his skin like a tattoo.

It's been ten months since One Direction decided to go on hiatus. They said hiatus and Harry meant it, but he knows the rest of the boys meant breaking up. Harry won't let it go, the second the boys say they want it back, Harry will be the first one running to them. He will be the first one running to Louis, just as he always has been.