Chapter Six

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(IMPORTANT! READ NOW! Harry ALWAYS repeats himself, even if I don't write that he repeats himself. He has a problem that makes him repeat himself EVERY SINGLE TIME HE TALKS. I am tired of seeing comments saying 'harry didn't repeat himself' 'you didn't put he repeated afterwards after he said blah blah blah'. I have said before, and this is the last time I'm saying it. He ALWAYS repeats himself.)

"We need to work on your stuttering, Lou, if you want to read sonnet eighteen without stuttering," Harry said, repeating himself quite loudly, obviously as emphasis. Louis rolled his eyes. He just wanted a day to just relax, and after a long week of school, he definitely didn't want to hop right back into learning. It was honestly tiring to even think about. Harry raised an eyebrow, flicking Louis' ear after awhile. Louis flinched, stuttering out an 'ow' while rubbing his now reddening earlobe. "Shush, shush. You need to. You need to. Now come on, read me some sonnet eighteen," Harry said slowly, trying not to say the last sentence as loud as the other two. He failed miserably.

Harry's palilalia was acting up bad today. He tried his best to sound out the words slowly, long and dragged out, just hoping that it would help ease his problem. But, to no avail, Harry was still repeating himself loud and clear, and Louis honestly felt bad for him. He knew what it was like on bad days. Harry was just happy he usually had his bad days on the weekends, and not during a school day, like when Louis usually had his.

At the current moment, though, they were still out in public, where people could hear them. Of course they were in a hole-in-the-wall cafe with barely anyone in there, and not only that, but they were also in the back, where the cafe was poorly lit. It was quite difficult to read with a light above their heads flickering, but they had managed. So far, Louis had read three poems. The first time he read the first poem, he had done horrible, becoming a complete stuttering mess. But with a little coaxing of Harry, and a big cup of tea later, Louis was able to cut back the nervous stuttering a bit. Now he was getting ready to read sonnet eighteen, his once terrible stutter becoming his normal one.

Louis curled the front cover of the book backwards, letting the front and back covers touch. Harry made a face, muttering 'you're gonna ruin the damn book' before picking up his own copy, holding it gently. Louis rolled his eyes. God, Harry and his books, he was so damn picky; no dog-eared pages; no bent covers; no nothing that could potentially ruin the book.

"Sh-shall I c-c-compare thee to a s-s-summer's d-day," Louis read, wincing a little every time he stuttered longer than he usually did. He had just started and he was already failing. Harry was looking at him with sympathy, a small look of sadness in his eyes and a smile on his face. Louis closed his eyes, speaking the words from memory, trying to concentrate on just the words coming out of his mouth. "Th-thou a-art-t m-m-more, f-fuck!" Louis yelled, banging the book down.

This wasn't exactly fair. He kept trying and trying and trying, but he just could not achieve what he was fighting for. He just wanted to read this damn thing without stuttering. Why was that so hard for him if he concentrated?

"Louis, please don't get so upset over this, this isn't something you can control," Harry soothed, rubbing a hand up and down Louis' forearm. Louis tensed under the touch, though, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Th-this isn't f-fair-r! I'm tr-trying so h-h-hard!" Louis complained, putting his head down into his arms, trying to block out all of his thoughts. This only amplified them, though. "I h-hate trying-ing so hard-d-d and th-then fail-ling. It hurts-s," Louis whined into his arm. There was tears starting to form in his eyes, but he blinked them back, squeezing his eyes hard so that the tears wouldn't fall out.

A hand grasped Louis' shoulder firmly, making him sniffle and bury his face further into his arms. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis' waist, tucking his chin into Louis' soft shoulder, making the boy under him tense. Harry hated seeing Louis like this. Usually, Louis was so confident, always trying to be, and do, his best. He was always acted so confident around the boys, lifting their once hell-bound moods and insecurities. They were a lot more confident in themselves, even with their 'problems'. Even Zayn, who had the hardest time finding the good in himself.

Stutter || Larry StylinsonWhere stories live. Discover now