"Harold, can I talk to you for a minute..?" Louis' chimed, leaning past the wall into the living room where the boys were having a game night.
Harry nodded, smiling as he got up.
"Use a condom.." Liam whispered as the curls passed him. He chuckled and stumbled into the kitchen, where his loving current boyfriend was leaning against stove, an anxious look on his face.
"What's wrong boobear?" Harry cooed, poking Lou's nose with a 'boop'.
Louis softly pushed Harry's hand away and smiled faintly. "It's... not me.. its you, wait- no I meant. fuck. oh god, wait.. oh god this is hard..that's what she said.. ha.. no.. wait.." his face grew red and Harry's stomach dropped.
"Wh-what?" he croaked. Was Louis breaking up with him, after all they've been through!? I mean sure, yeah.. management is a total DICK. But, he wouldn't get sick of it.. would he? No. No way. He couldn't. He promised.
"I.. can't do this anymore, I'm sorry, Hazza." Louis looked up to meet green eyes, slowly tearing up.
"But- but.. boo-bear, we can make it thro-" Louis shook his head and threw his hands up.
"I've been trying Harry, I'm sorry." he slowly walked around him, leaving the younger boy broken, his knees on tile.
Liam walked in, mumbling something about Niall eating the crisps. He saw Harry, curled up in a ball, slowly shaking.
"Harold? Oh god, what happened!?" He shuffled and knelt down beside him, rubbing the fragile boy's back.
"He.. let.. go.." he said in between sobs. Liam sighed and called the boys in.
***
The boy's have been trying to bring Lou and Harry back together, but nothing seems to be working. Louis refuses to make a lot of contact with him, it would just make things worse.
It's been a month.
***
It was a boring Saturday, Louis and Harry were still living in their shared flat.
It was silent through the house, all except for the clicking of Lou's mouse and Harry's t.v. in his bedroom.
That's all Harry did anymore. Stay in his bedroom. He feels like the worst person in the world, like he deserves to just.. die. So, that's what he's been trying to do. Every night, Harry takes his pain away with a blade to the wrist, hoping that it will go as deep as he truly wants, but he never has the courage.
Of course, the boys know nothing about it. No one does.
It's Harry's new dirty little secret.
The noise from Harry's t.v. stopped, and the pit-pat of his feet became louder and louder as he approached the kitchen, holding his breath so he doesn't inhale the familiar scent of the love of his life.
Harry starts pouring himself some orange juice, humming a tune he wrote himself, it's called 'Don't Let Me Go'. There's no doubt in his mind it's about Louis, but he seems to try and think otherwise. Liam's the only one who has heard it before.
All of a sudden Louis turns to face Harry, swiveling in the chair.
The curly haired boy spills some juice as he jumps, feeling Louis' eyes on his every move.
Lou clears his throat and Harry's eyes meet his for what seemed the first time in weeks.
They both share a look that neither of them now what it means. They just scan each others every feature, from Harry's crinkles, to Louis' thin lips.
