“Please,” Louis scoffed, mouth releasing a soft snort. “You wouldn’t be able to get me to come in my pants once.” They both know it wasn’t true, but the elder said it like it was fact anyway. After all, he’d be the last to admit to how pliant he actually was with anything sex-related. “I don’t even like your jokes.” He teased, tugging at a tuft of Mila’s pretty fur as he spoke. “You know, that old Breaking Benjamin song that goes like, put me to sleep, evil angel. Open your wings evil angel. Oh, fly over me, evil angel. Why can’t I breathe, evil angel?” The boy sang out the only verses he could remember clearly, his hand over his diaphragm the way it always was when he sang. A frown crossed over his features, his eyebrows pinching together as his mouth pushed up into a silly, soft pout. “You and Zayn can’t fuck. That’s not allowed. I wouldn’t love you ever again, neither of you.”
Gasping in mock offence, he reached behind himself for one of the younger boy’s pillows, throwing it at the boy’s head. “You take that back. You’re beginning to sound like some of your friends, making fun of my impeccable dress sense,” He said, pretending to sound offended. “You do though,” Louis insisted with a sigh, pushing his hair back as he recalled the last time he saw Harry in full-on summer mode. “With your pretty face, and your fit body and your golden legs. Gorgeous.” Harry was one of the most attractive people he knew, and it wasn’t only his objective, physical appeal that did it, but it was also in the way he carried himself, in his charisma and charm that made him so stunning to everyone who saw him. Sometimes he felt that even if Harry weren’t conventionally attractive, people would still find him irresistible due to the parts of his personality which shone through in his actions, mannerisms and demeanour. He was just lucky that he got to know him as the whole person and not just a side of him. “Who would have thought that clumsy, endearing, silly kid would become such a wonderful man, hm?” Half the time the boy didn’t even notice the amount he fluffed Harry up, it came naturally to him, the compliments rolling off his tongue like they’d been waiting for the right moment to express themselves. A smile stretched the corners of his lips further apart at the compliment, though his voice wore a self-deprecating laugh. “That can’t be true. I have barely seen any surprise boners over the years and I love tanning.”
Shoulders lifting in a shrug, a strange look passed through the blues of his irises as he mulled over the question. Did he feel different? Less sad, or more like a person rather than an empty waste of skin that served no purpose beyond corroding everything he touched? Eventually, the wounds carved into his skin would feel less tender, fade, and only serve as a faint reminder of how they came to be drawn in jagged, glass brushstrokes over his skin, but will the ache in his chest ever cease to wear his worn heart down to the pit of his stomach? Will the bitter poison of the words branded against his tongue, marked into his inner lip, an utterance of harsh sounds so sharp they could kill a man, ever subside? Will his mind ever stop its litany of: I wouldn’t have missed you if you’d died? A new haircut felt like a cheap disguise, like the false face of a masked villain. With miserable finality and a shake of his head, he said, “No.” Swallowing around the hard lump in his throat, with his mouth pulled into a frown, “No, I don’t.”
He nodded. In a way it made him feel better that he wasn’t the only person Harry had lied to, less isolated in his anger. At least he wasn’t the only person his boyfriend didn’t seem to trust, even if he appeared to be of the few he trusted the least. “I hope so,” He said, his voice shaky but devoid of anger. “I hope that’s the only lie, and the last one.” And he did hope, but now that the lies and secrets were racking up how was he meant to trust a word that came out of Harry’s mouth from now on? The rift between them only felt like it was breaking apart wider. “I’m still upset you gave her to Madison,” He admitted, “But it was wrong of me to get as angry as I did. I’m sorry.” It felt wrong, apologising to Harry for anything when he wasn’t the liar among the two but no matter what, upsetting Harry never felt right or justified. Eyes trained to the ground, he didn’t look up as Mila began drawing closer to them, bewildered by the depression in her caretakers’ shoulders. A sigh passed his lips as she nuzzled his arm before moving to Harry and pressing her snout against his knee, nudging him.
The edge of hurt in his eyes only sharpened, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered Harry’s explanation, his heart thudding rapidly to some self-loathing rhythm as he let it sink in that he’d been a part of the reason his boyfriend felt more comfortable running away and lying than talking to him. “I was trying to fix things between you two. My mistake,” He said, voice monotonous. Reaching up, he rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. At first, he didn’t even register what had been said about Des and Anne, the words flittering into one ear and out the other briefly as he tried to calm himself down about everything that had been said so far. Then it settled in his stomach, cutting as knives, what he’d said. “Wait, what?” He shook his head before meeting his eyes again for the first time in over ten minutes, searching them for any sign he’d heard wrong. “Your parents don’t want you to be with me?” It felt like a sick, twisted lie, like a joke. It was no secret most of the people in Harry’s life felt like the young boy could and should do better. Nor was it news that they were probably right, Louis doing more harm than good wherever they went, but if there was ever anyone he didn’t expect to agree it was, stupidly, Harry’s mother who used to love her like his own son at some point in time.
Before you broke her son’s heart, and nearly murdered him.
It set his teeth on edge, resigned distress settling over him as it dawned on him just how unanimous the theory that he was inadequate was. Licking over his lips, he pushed everything as far back in his mind as he could, his heart aching anxiously in his chest as he shifted in the damp soil to face Harry, their knees touching, the harsh blades of glass tickling his bare skin. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” He finally said mournfully, knowing that his boy and Anne were thick as thieves and that the separation must be putting so much stress on him. Enough stress, probably for him to have felt trapped enough to lie to him, to cheat on him, all awhile Louis hadn’t really been there for him. Instead, he’d been adding onto his stress with his own bullshit. To think for a minute he’d felt like he deserved being treated a bit better when, here, too, all he seemed to be doing was ruining everything. Eyes a little wet as his vision blurred over, he reached out to draw the other boy into a hug. “I know how close you two are. I’m sorry you two fought like that. Are you okay, baby?” He drew back when he was feeling slightly less hurt, pushing Harry’s hair back and searching his face with concern. “You said you went home for a bit, did you see her?”
“Now we both know that’s a lie.” Harry murmured knowing just how pliant Louis is in bed and how eager Harry is to please Louis when it came to all aspects of their relationship. “Shut up! You have to put up with me and my jokes for the rest of your life.” Harry attempted to speak sternly though he couldn’t help the giggles that released from his lips with every word. “Oooh yeah,” Harry nodded beginning to tap the beat of the song to his thigh, adding a light hum in to mimic the vocals. Harry spotted Louis’ frown chuckling, “What does Zayn have to do so you can stop loving him so that then you can just love me for the rest of your life?” He asked a hint of a joke in his words.
“I love you, I love your dress sense. I’m not making fun of it, I don’t have a problem with it as long as you’re happy and comfortable. I know how it is and I wouldn’t dare make you feel that way.” Harry related enveloping his bottom lip between his teeth. “You do though.” Harry quoted mischievously. Harry smiled avoiding eye contact Louis’ words making him feel antsy and shy. If anyone knew how to make Harry uncomfortable by talking about his body in such light, it was always Louis. Louis always made Harry feel sexy, made Harry very confident in front of others or when he was by himself but he was always shyly confident around Louis. “And who would’ve thought that clumsy, endearing, silly kid would’ve gotten such an amazing, god of a menacing boyfriend?” Harry coaxed, a smug smile on his lips. “I’m just really good at hiding them and getting off quickly. It comes from years of giving myself what I need as soon as I need it.” He smirked.
“No? Alright.” Harry sided not wanting to question Louis any further on what he didn’t seem to want to talk about. When Louis would be ready he’d speak up Harry told himself. He needed to trust Louis and give Louis the reassurance that he could trust Harry.
“It is.” He nodded his expression sad but his voice hopeful. As Louis voiced his dismay about Madison watching Mila. Louis didn’t have to apologize because Harry knew he didn’t over exaggerate or anything but he appreciated it. “You were right. The reality of it is Madison is my ex and you’re my boyfriend. You don’t like how close we are which is understandable and Mila is our daughter and the fact that it appears that I trust her more resonates and makes me understand where you’re coming from. I love you, and I’ll show you that I trust you and know that it was a big mistake. I’m so so so sorry.” He continued to apologize wanting Louis to see how regretful Harry is.
“I understand, I’m not pressing you about it, I’m just trying to explain my actions.” Harry calmly spoke. “I know your intentions and you don’t have to justify them because I know you well enough to know your point and you know me enough to know if the roles were switched I would’ve done the same thing.” He finished his voice soft and wary. At Louis’ surprise a few seconds after Harry’s news Harry’s heart could only beat harder feeling incredibly anxious. “It doesn’t matter what they say because I want to be with you, I will be with you.” Harry hesitantly laid his hand on Louis’ back caressing it. They were probably going to be a mess once they got home but he didn’t care, them, including Mila needed this time alone, this time to better their family.
“Don’t apologize.” Harry waved Louis’ words off not liking how by Louis apologizing he felt as if he was at fault. “We are, or were but I’m alright, I’m better.” He admitted letting out a deep sigh, “I did see her and we talked a bit about everything but she understands how much I love you and how much I want us to work out, she’s just doing her job as my mum and worrying about me being hurt. She loves you, I know it and you know it.” Harry ended his small talk trying to justify his mum but he sort of didn’t want to. How could anyone think Harry and Louis weren’t perfect for each other. “Lou, I just love you to the bottom of my heart.” He started as Louis ran his fingers through his hair, “Our family comes but I want us, I want to work on us, I want there to be us for the rest of my life.” His lip twitched at the thought his hand coming around to softly and lightly caress Mila’s back with his friend the same that he was doing with Louis, “Please don’t make this make you think otherwise of my family or anything.” He begged.
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