these bountiful silences

xxi. shell

"You did not break me, I am still fighting for peace."

xxi. shell [UNEDITED]

A deep, primal scream permeates through the room as soon as Harry crosses the threshold.

Louis is cowered in the corner of the room, small hands grasping tightly to his own shoulders while his chest moves with pained heaves. His fringe is matted to his chest and there's a massive bruise blossoming on his left cheekbone. He looks like a contained storm cloud, visibly rumbling and ready to strike with lighting but is being held back with some indecipherable force. Niall takes a hesitant step forward, and Louis presses his back even closer to the wall.

"Don't touch me," Louis whispers, voice cracking and eyes empty. "Don't come closer."

"Louis... Louis it's me. It's Nialler. You remember me, yeah? From when we were young lads in our nappies -"

"Don't come closer!" Louis screams. Niall takes a cautious step back.

"What'd they do to you, Lou?" Niall asks lowly.

Harry watches as Louis stares blankly at Niall before flicking his eyes to a spot on the floor. Harry looks at it too, eyebrows shooting up when he spots a massive stain of red blemishing the otherwise pristine floor. Is that Louis' blood?

"Please don't hurt them." Louis whispers, voice delicate like the petal of a tulip.

"Don't hurt who, Louis?" Niall murmurs.

"My girls, please don't hurt my girls. I'll do anything, just don't hurt them. They're all I have left."

Harry isn't sure exactly who Louis' girls are, but he does know that he's never seen Louis Tomlinson ever look so devastated before in his life. His cheeks are hollow and he looks too delicate and small for his own clothes. There's days worth of stubble matted against his jawline and his eyelashes are fluttering skittishly like a caged bird as he shifted his eyes between Niall and the faint stain. Harry feels a surge of worry explode through his gut as a small voice, one that's reminiscent of the Harry that only believed in keeping others safe at all costs, murmurs protect him.

He drags his foot forward, feeling like he's slowly releasing his ankle from a heavy shackle and taking a first step into freedom when walks towards Louis, holding out his hand fruitlessly. Like a tentative person holding their hand out to a wild animal to show that they're not a threat.

"Is he -" Harry says aloud and Louis jerks to face him, visibly startling.

A myriad of storm clouds thunder over Louis' eyes as he stares at Harry. Mouth opening and shutting while a frail, abnormally hand slowly moves upwards to pull at his own hair. His left leg twitches, and there's a moment of dead silence, like the air is sucked out of the room. And then Louis stands up.

At first, Harry thinks that his ears are ringing. It takes him until he feels a hand gripping at the collar of his shirt to realize that it's Louis' screaming. Harry plants himself to the ground while Louis' screams, mouth wide and eyes searching Harry's face but not seeming to really process anything. He feels like he's underwater for the longest time, isn't really there until he feels another body slide between them, and hears Niall's voice whispering to Louis.

"Gemma," Louis yells, and it feels like Harry was just shocked with a thousand volts of electricity. "Gemma. I saw her. She was right there! She was dressed in white and she told me to follow her but I couldn't because I was stuck to the fucking ground."

Harry's mind trips over the word Gemma for a few moments, and he steps closer to Louis even though that's probably stupid, because he's thrashing around in Niall's arms and clawing at nothing. Like he's ready to attack. Louis' hand makes contact with his bicep, and his nails dig in harshly through the sleeve of his Superior suit.