Be My Eyes || Larry Stylinson

n i n e t e e n

chapter nineteen

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Louis did in fact regret his choice of words as he found himself lying unconcious on the brick street. His head was pounding and on the side of his head, dried red liquid glued his hair to his face. The Doncaster boy's feet were unsteady as he stood to an upright position, his hands gripping onto whatever he could find to balance himself. 

Louis pulled the hood of his sweater over his head, looking down to avoid and suspicious looks by anyone he would pass. Most people would just walk home after getting beaten, correct? Not Louis. He walked a short ways to the tea shop, only taking glances of what was in front of him from  time to time. These glances didn't seem like enough, as Louis bumped into people time after time, mumbling apologies instead of insults. 

However, one particular person apologized faster than Louis could open his mouth - someone he really didn't want to be around at the moment. The insult was at the tip of his tongue, begging to be said as Louis stood next to the visually impaired man; but he couldn't find the strength in him to say a single bad thing at the moment.

The light turned green and Louis waited for Harry to start walking first, but he didn't move. It was then that Louis realized that maybe Harry did need a bit more help than he led on. For crying out loud, the boy didn't even know when to cross a street, goddamn it.

"Are you going to cross, or stand there?" Louis' voice was far from normal, it sounded scratchy and forced. He waited for Harry to respond, but he got none. The younger boy stared in Louis' direction, eyebrows furrowed, but eyes still dull. 

"Louis?" Harry asked, turning to face the Doncaster boy. Unfortunately his stick moved with him, hitting Louis right below the knee. Louis hissed at the pain, grabbing onto the side of a bench to steady himself. "Oh shit - I'm sorry. Did I hit you, I'm so sorry? Are you alright?"

Harry's arms began to flail as if he were trying to swim in the middle of a storm, searching for his acquiantance to see if he did any damage. Louis waved off the younger boy, saying everything was alright and that he needn't worry about it. Of course, Harry didn't believe him - mostly because Louis was never one to be calma round Harry. It was always an emotional disaster. 

"Where are you going? Do you want me to help you? Can you walk?" Harry asked, still concerned. Louis found this rather adorable, but he'd never admit to anyone or himself that he thought a boy was adorable in the slightest. 

"I'm fine, Harry." And for the first time in the day, Louis laughed. He laughed because it hurt to cry, because it hurt to walk, because it hurt to think; he laughed because it hurt to know that everything was falling apart again.

"Louis, we aren't friends; but I'm not going to stand hear and listen to that bullshit. I know what fine sounds like and you aren't fine." Harry said, jutting his elbow out to indicate that he was willing to help Louis. Louis' eyes were fixed on the arm in front of him. He didn't know how to react, but he did what any sane person would do. He accepted the help.

"Thanks," Louis mumbled. He normally hated feeling inferior, having to rely on someone other than himself. But right now, Louis didn't know if it was because he was in too much pain to care or if it was because it was Harry giving him the help, he just didn't give a single fuck.

"How about we make a deal for this little walk, alright?" Harry spoke up. He sounded more confident than when Louis saw him last. 

"Okay," Louis agreed, not willing to argue with a guy that seems to help Louis no matter what shitty thing he had just been told. "Just this once."

"I'll be your legs, but you've got to be my eyes, alright?" Harry said, looking straight ahead; and in the moment it really looked like the two of them needed each other. It really did.

"Yeah, alright."