i wanted to be your escape

the two of them stood there for what felt like ages, avoiding eye contact at all costs. only the sound of the ever-running heater ran through the house. harry swore he could hear both his own as well as louis' heartbeat. they were machines, like the heater running in the background, he thought, mechanical and unceasing. eventually, he was unable to settle with the silence as it sunk in, soaking both of them to the bone.

"so…" he attempted at stirring the stillness, "are you okay?"

"y-yeah, why wouldn't i be?"

"you were really tense. i could tell, lou. i'm not blind. please, just tell me what's wrong."

louis burned red in shame and self-hatred for just a moment in time before he masked that chagrin with sizzling anger. "what do you know about me, harry? i don't know why you're still trying to treat me like a charity case after i've told you many times that it's useless, but you're taking it too far. quit trying to barge into my business when you clearly can't handle me."

"what? lou, what?" he had expected backlash from the smaller boy, but not in this form. "what are you talking about? i can't 'handle' you?" harry raised his voice, hurt, and truthfully, irritated at louis' stubbornness. "you're accusing me of making assumptions, but you've done nothing to prove that i have no need to worry. you're the one telling me i can't handle you when you haven't even given me a chance!" at this point, harry was shaking—not out of anxiety, but out of pure frustration. his eyes were fervent with red heat, prickling with tears that felt like acid.

"why are you prying so much? i'm just trying to spare you the pain and effort! there's nothing to find in me. you can't fix me. there's nothing to fix. i'm fine. what about that do you not understand?"

"you're the one telling me what i can and can't handle when you've not a clue. i care about you, louis. why can't you understand that?"

"because you shouldn't," louis mumbled, almost inaudibly, throat closing and chest tightening. but he couldn't afford to seem weak so he strained his voice painfully. harry could practically hear the battle going on in his head. "you can't tell me you care about me when you don't even know me." he said as coldly and emotionlessly as possible.

"because you won't let me in."

"what's the point?"

"so i can help you."

"why do you want to?"

"like i said," harry sighed, rubbing his temples, "i care about you."

"why?"

"because you're such a beautiful person and you're worth caring about and i wouldn't mind giving my all for."

louis suddenly melted, tears he had been holding back the whole time coming out in fat drops down his cheeks. with just those words, the desire to give in to harry's words, to believe them, colored him dark shades of blue and purple. "harry… please don't say that without meaning it."

at this point, harry's tears had begun to slip past his eyelids as well. with each passing moment he spent with louis, it became more and more sickeningly clear how much the boy had truly detested himself. for what reason, harry didn't know. because he was quite literally the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on. the soft curve of his lips and the mountains and valleys of his back he remembered tracing with his fingers just last week. from the very beginning, harry felt like he knew that this was it for him. "i mean it, louis. you don't believe me yet—and i get that—but please, just give me a chance."

"what are you trying to say?"

"i'm saying, just let me in a little more."

"what are we, harry?"

"whatever you're comfortable with. i'll be patient if you need it."

louis only closed his eyes and nodded. his soft trembles from before had evolved into more violet ones, and wracked his body with what made him seem possessed by some higher being. harry reached his hand out to touch him, but the ocean boy had only pulled away. harry felt a flash of hurt, but this was just step one to understanding the boy. take nothing he does or says when he's in this state personally.

and don't give up on him.

so he stepped closer, even as louis further caved in on himself, and wrapped his arms around the small boy until the shaking had stopped. they stood there for what could have been just seconds or minutes, but it also could have been hours or days; harry didn't care. he wasn't going to let go of louis, not now.

"thank you," louis breathed. though it was only two simple words, the meaning had conveyed itself to harry. for holding me. for fighting for me. for not just walking away when you realized how fucked up i was. for just being.

they retired to bed, harry not letting the blue-eyed boy with tears staining his cheeks to go home and spend his night alone tonight. he didn't want to think about what would occur if louis let his thoughts attack him any more tonight. he didn't want to think about what would have happened to the boy had he not noticed something was off in the first place.

they held each other, harry as the big spoon, clinging onto the smaller boy as if he would evaporate if he were to let go. so he didn't.

"harry?" louis whispered, "are you awake?"

"yeah. what's up, love?"

"i'm sorry." louis' voice broke. "i'm sorry."

harry didn't know what to say so he only pulled him closer and kissed him on the top of the head. time passed like this, and eventually the boy's breathing slowed and harry could tell he had finally fallen asleep.

it felt wrong, but the younger boy unconsciously began exploring louis' body through the tips of his fingers. the room was dark, so this was the next best thing that he had. he could feel the smooth, supple skin, the soft hair that never failed to smell of an indescribable scent that was so louis.

he adored every inch of him, and as he found more, he only amazed him even further, the beauty of the boy. it amazed him, too, how louis couldn't see himself like everyone else does.

harry could feel his ribs, every individual bone jutting out. he could count them if he tried. he could feel louis' individual vertebrae, crawling up his back in sick, round pieces. it scared him, really. it had never struck him so hard small the boy was.

moonlight leaked in from the open window; the curtains were still open. in contrast to the darkness of the room, the stars were almost blindingly bright. ironic, harry thought, that in this type of situation the stars would choose to show themselves, rather than the first night they had met.

even the stars, harry realized, can be so very hollow.

but they were comfortable, and the storm of the night had passed. louis was asleep in his arms as if their bodies were made to fit against each other, and while fear was bubbling in the curly-haired boy's stomach, they were content. almost.