these bountiful silences

xxx. hiraeth

"My heart yearns for something that I can never experience once again."

xxx. hiraeth

The early morning sun paints the sky with hues of demanding fuchsias and muted azures, and the angry wind tosses Harry's hair away from his forehead and dries his tears in place on his red cheeks. The board dips slightly in the air when he shifts forward and he uses one of his hands to hold onto the edge while he drives the board higher towards the rising sun. Louis' shaking hands tighten around his waist and Harry uses his free hand to grasp where they're conjoined tightly. He only has the fabric of Harry's shirt to try and stop his wrist from bleeding, but he doesn't complain. The sound of dried leaves being tossed by the wind is the only sensation that mingles with the small hitches of Louis' breath while he cries, and Harry feels like his heart is breaking relentlessly for him.

"Lou?" Harry asks delicately, his voice is raw from not being used for so many hours. "We're almost to the crafts."

Louis inhales shakily from where his face is pressed against Harry's neck, and Harry feels a tear bleed through the thin fabric of his shirt. Harry wants nothing more than to give Louis a proper hug and tell him that everything's okay, but he can't. He can't promise that everything is okay if he doesn't even know if that statement is true to himself, and he can't hug Louis because driving a hoverboard with one person takes enough concentration as it is, but the presence of Louis' weight added to his own makes it even more difficult.

"Right," Louis coughs and moves a bit away from where he was pressed against Harry. "I should clean myself up.. I should.."

"Lou, it's okay for them to know that you're upset."

"No," Louis bites, his voice dredged in an odd mixture of sadness and ferocity. "It's not. I am about to go in front of hundreds of people that I have came to see as family and ruin their perception of this world. I am going to have to walk up to Zayn's mum and tell her that her son is dead because of this selfish world. I can't go out there with tears in my eyes when I'm the only one that's supposed to take control and be a leader. I can't."

"Then don't go," Harry says simply.

"I'm not leaving my family to fall into The Movement's trap."

Louis tries to take his hand away from where they were conjoined, but Harry just holds on tighter. I'm not letting you go, not when you're about to break. He wishes with every fiber of his being that he can stop the board and look into Louis' azure eyes that match the sunrise, to tell him through silent touches and meaningful glances that everything will be alright, but they don't have any time to waste.

"You shouldn't go, not when you're about to fall apart. I'll tell them." Harry offers.

Louis' hand ceases from where he was struggling, "They won't believe you, Haz. In nearly everyone's mind your just a Loyalist that had no other choice than to run away with me."

"I'll make them believe," Harry argues. "I have a gift, Louis. And I know that no one ever looks at me and wants to think that I'm a leader, but that's what I was born to be. I have my voice and I have Gemma's namesake on my side, and I believe that they'll listen to me if I just took the chance. I'm an Unconformist now, and I fucking care about these people. I never thought that I would say that but I do. I care about you, and Cara, and Ember, and your family, and everyone else because they matter to you. And I know how much you loved Zayn, I know how much this hurts. Let yourself mourn and let me help."