i said i was going to bring the angst, so here it is. @claudiyah, @newmanagement @fxckingunicorn :)
It’s a beautiful fall day in september, Louis is watching the children play outside as he writes his latest article. He’s gotten used to life out in the country, and life distant from Harry, but that doesn’t mean he’s happy with it. He’s mostly drifting through life now, waiting for the war to end and for harry to come home, but in the mean time he’s got his job to do. Sometimes the children distract himself so much with fleeting joy that he forgets harry isn’t there to share it with him.
it’s been two months since his last letter from harry, but louis still sends one every week. the radio news has said that nazi forces have been cutting off mailed communications in and out of france, and louis blames that for the lack of letter from his lover. he wishes he knew exactly where harry was, because every time a new french city is talked about on the radio, he can’t help but wonder if it’s harry’s. he has no way of knowing if it’s already fallen to the enemy.
he’s planning on writing harry another message tonight, just a short message about recent events, just a little something so harry can know he’s still thinking about him. there’s a very big chance that it never gets to him, but what else can louis do to keep sane?
suddenly, one of the younger kids is tapping on louis’ shoulder, nervously getting his attention. “Louis? There are soldiers at the door...”
All of the air escapes Louis’ lungs, and he’s standing up in only moments, running to the mansion. “Oh my-I-I’ll be right in!”
Could it be? Is it Harry? How could he be home already? Why didn’t he write first? Louis honestly doesn’t care as he runs down the hill, and around the house, not bothering to go all the way through to reach them. He sees two men standing at the front entrance, talking to one of the caretakers, backs to him. Their uniforms are bulky and cover most of their bodies, so Louis can’t tell which one is Harry, so he calls out, “Harry! Are you really-”
They turn around and Louis stops in his tracks, only feet away. Neither one is his Harry, and one holds a small envelope in his hand. Louis starts to shake his head, hand covering up the gasp that leaves his lips. This can’t be happening.
“Are you Louis Tomlinson?” One asks, the one who holds the envelope, face turned down in a serious frown.
They both look at him sympathetically when he answers, “Y-Yes.”
“We were told to deliver this to you by a Mrs. Anne Styles. We are...very sorry,” the officer continues, holding out the tiny envelope. A telegram.
He’s heard about these telegrams. He has friends back in London who have been given them. Louis starts to cry when he takes it, and says a very soft, “Thank you,” to the officers. They salute him and then make their way over the dirt road, and back to their car. He stands silently still, staring at the telegram.
A few of the children run up behind him, all asking what the telegram says, but he can’t bring himself to open it in front of them. The caretakers lead them all inside, leaving Louis by himself so the kids don’t have to see his reaction. He sits down on the steps of the porch, hands shaking as he rips open the envelope. With a stuttered breath, he pulls out the telegram, yet still not ready to see it’s message.
Louis Tomlinson
The Secretary of War desires me to express his deep regret that Captain Harry Styles has been reported Missing In Action since Twenty One July in France. If further details or other information are received you will be promptly notified.
MIA. Harry is MIA. There’s a chance that he’s still alive out there, but all Louis can possibly think is that he’s gone. His Harry is completely gone.