the ribs aren't a cage

after that incident, harry was happy to notice that louis had begun to open up a little bit more. the chest that had had tens and tens of locks before started seeming much more manageable. but the remainder, the ones that would refuse to budge no matter what the green-eyed boy tried, were the hardest to deal with. he'd approach each issue several times, and without fail, louis would run fast and far, leaving more distance than before between harry and his goal.

there were times harry'd considered giving up; everything was much too tiring and damn near impossible, a code that louis wrote for only the most skilled decipherers, and even then, louis would still be a total enigma to them.

the two boys made a habit of calling each other every night, texting throughout the day, and making plans on weekends. without fail, they'd become a crucial part of each other's everyday lives. harry basked in this thought.

but he knew that it wasn't so easy for louis; he wasn't stupid. there were clearly some days that were more difficult than others, the days when he would call the ocean boy only to be left for the cold robotic drone of the automatic voicemail system or, even worse, louis' voice, thick and breaking with tears.

there were times where it was painfully obvious that louis had spent god knows how long in his bed, in his bathroom, crying, before harry had called him, but it was an elephant they had always forced themselves to tiptoe around. at these times, louis was the most vulnerable, the most absolutely shattered, and harry didn't want to make a wrong move and push the boy so far that their relationship would be irreparable. whatever their relationship was, anyway.

since that first night, they'd not done anything sexual, or even remotely romantic. harry would be lying if he said he didn't crave it sometimes; seeing louis' chest rise and fall in this sheets excited him at the worst of times, and he couldn't help it. but remembering the utter terror painted on the ocean boy's face that day made everything vanish into thin air. he'd just end up trying to swallow his fury, over the fact that someone had hurt the boy so much that he would hate himself to such an extent.

it was only three weeks since they had first met, a little under two weeks since the incident with niall, that they'd run into this issue again. but it was louis that had brought it up, with that sad, shaky voice of his that always broke harry's heart.

"hazza?" the ocean boy whispered, voice coming through harry's phone which he had held in a death grip against his ear, so as to not miss a single word, a single implication.

"yes, boo?"

"is… is it really alright for me to hope for something more… out of us?"

"what do you mean?" harry asked, despite knowing full well what the other boy meant.

"you know. i just don't want to get disappointed again. i- i hate being like this with you, because we'd only met so recently… and you're too nice to not comfort me, anyway. like, i know you're just going to tell me that you care and that i should trust you. you are everything i am not, harry. you don't understand what i can get like. i can't ask this of anyone. i can't be this selfish. but part of me really, really, really wants to let you in. there's a voice telling me that it's okay. but it might be wrong, you know? and if i tell myself, all this time, that this is it, he is the one, he'll treat you right, you are allowed to open back him, you are allowed to think about yourself for once. but if i allow myself something like that and it slips past my fingers anyway, i don't think i'd ever recover. and it wouldn't even be your fault—you are entitled to leave at any given moment, it's not some disgusting cultist pact. i don't want to pressure you into anything. but the end of this is inevitable, why allow it in the first place when i know from the start that it's only going to destroy me? harry, i don't even know why i'm here anymore."

harry blinked, astounded at the amount that had just muddled out of louis' mouth and through the speaker phone, astounded at the raw pain in louis' voice. astounded that his boy has been feeling this way and he hadn't done anything about it. astounded that someone so perfect could think so little of themselves. "lou, where are you right now?"

"a-at my apartment." louis said carefully, wrinkling his forehead. "why? did you even listen to anything i just said?"

"everything. trust me. i'm on my way right now. same place you told me last week, right? shouldn't be too far a drive, so i'll be right there. stay put."

"i, okay." the ocean boy stated plainly, at a loss for words, before understanding the reality of the situation. he was in his bathroom, crying. he looked absolutely horrible. and now, harry is coming? how is he to fix his puffy red eyes and unsteady breathing in only fifteen minutes?

"i'll talk to you in a little bit. so please just stay put, okay? i'll be right there."

it was a thursday night, and louis had called him again twenty minutes after they'd already said goodnight, like they always had. but when harry's phone started vibrating again with louis' number flashing urgently (as if his phone were trying to mock him), and he heard the unsteadiness in the boy's voice, he didn't even have to think before grabbing his keys and driving right to his ocean boy.

truthfully, when harry had reached louis' apartment door, october gusts making everything even harder, even lonelier, he was scared of what he would find when he were to enter. a weak, crying, ocean boy with a look in his eyes that would follow harry to his dreams? an unconscious boy that had clearly been tearing himself apart with what god can only imagine? a lifeless boy, given up after everything, after all this time, a wilted, dried up flower telling harry that he'd been too late?

but he knew he had no time to waste, so he used the extra keys that louis had not-so-subtly left at harry's place the week before, telling him without words that he was welcome anytime.

the house was eerily quiet, cold, no lights on, clothes and crumpled papers that had clearly been ripped from notebooks strewn everywhere. under a different situation, harry would have wanted to pick them all up and press them flat and read louis' beautiful words (which louis would always claim were pretentious-sounding and overly edgy). it smelled of mold and rotting food, filling the entire area with this dampness that harry couldn't quite place. it made him cough a little, burning his already asthmatic lungs with unfamiliarity.

but right now, he wasn't thinking about that. he frantically walked around the apartment, searching for any sign of life. he found it in the form of a strip of light escaping the bottom of what he assumed to be the bathroom door.

testing the waters, harry shook the door handle a little bit, carefully and quietly, to find that it was unlocked. his heart was pounding in his ears, and now more than ever, he was terrified to see louis. or to better put it, he was terrified of seeing not-louis. a louis with empty eyes and an empty stomach, in contrast to the louis with the soft soul and soft smile he'd loved so much. but there wasn't time to spare.

without even thinking about knocking, he slid the door open to reveal a blinding white light that made him squint, as he his eyes were already accustomed to the darkness of the rest of the apartment. the sour smell of vomit attacked his nostrils, even more severe than the odor that clung to the rest of the apartment. he recovered, staggering a little bit, but in front of him was the ocean boy, whom the sight of grounded harry instantly.

he was surprisingly much more calm that the younger boy had prepared himself for. sat staring at the full length mirror, completely naked wearing only layers of towels, eyes glued shut, not reacting to harry's presence at all.

"lou? are you alright?

the ocean boy flinched at the sudden sound of harry's voice, shivers wracking him from head to toe once again. this made the curly-headed boy wince, wanting to be there to calm the boy down, not the opposite. it was obvious that he had been crying, and that tears were threatening to spill over again. louis said nothing, only continued his unsteady breathing, keeping his eyes shut.

harry noticed, that as a person breathes, their scapula extends backwards, as if preparing for flight. on louis, he'd imagine full-length wings like that of an angel, fitting of someone as bright as him. people say the scapula is where our wings used to be before they were mercilessly ripped off of us, feather by feather.

he bent down, carefully, reaching a hand out to touch louis, when the boy's breathing sped up, an ugly reminder of what this situation really meant. it was a repeat of what happened when they had first properly met, except louis was much more vulnerable this time over.

"baby, you have to breathe. in and out with me," harry whispered, trying to remain calm, but how could he, when the ocean boy seemed like he was ready to break at any moment?

he knew how badly it could turn out, but harry took the risk and wrapped his arms tightly around the small boy, breathing emphatically in hopes that the rhythm would somehow reach louis, and the storm would be over once again.

another reminder of how small the ocean boy was.

and he truly was an ocean boy, harry came to see—calm, still, and serene at times, but also tumultuous and wholly unrestrainable.

"i'm here, love. i'm here. i'm here."

he doesn't know how long they had stayed like that, but eventually, louis opened his eyes again, looking up at the younger boy from his arms. "h-harry?" he whispered hoarsely, "why are you here?"

"you seemed really upset earlier, on the phone. so i allowed myself in and found you here. lou, what's wrong?"

as if the circumstances had sunk in finally, louis jumped in fear and pried himself out of harry's arms. gripping onto the towel to hide his body, "i, i'm fine. please, please just leave. i love you, but please, never do this again. i'll be fine, okay?"

"what? you want me to leave, and leave you here like this?"

"is that not what i said, harry?" louis breathed in, trying to calm himself down. "i'm sorry you had to catch me like that again. just forget it all, okay? i'm fine."

"stop fucking saying that if you know what's good for you, louis william tomlinson. i'm not fucking leaving, not now."

"please," the ocean boy pleaded, voice breaking, and harry's heart broke right along with it. "just let me alone. i'll be fine on my own, love. believe me." he let out a weak smile, not quite reaching his eyes.

red trickled down louis' bare leg, and he was quick to swipe it up with the end of his towel, but the damage had already been done. harry saw.

this is when he could no longer hide the primitiveness of his worry anymore, and felt the white-hot tears he'd tried so hard to hide trickle out of the corners of his eyes.

"oh, lou…"