Bound by Pages | larry

thirty-eight

"I know you went into my room, so how much of my stuff did you actually see?" Louis randomly asked one cold December day. The previous night had been the first snowfall of the year, so the ground was covered in fluffy white snow. 

"Just the file on your bed. I didn't want to go through your stuff," Harry replied honestly. He was curious as hell, of course, but it was times like these when he was glad he had been a good person. 

"So you didn't look through..." Louis trailed off, holding the brown journal up in his hand. 

"Of course not," Harry said. Again, truthfully. "I know you keep that really secretive."

Louis blushed. "I really appreciate that."

That was their entire conversation for the school day. Harry spent the rest of class working on his essay. He wrote down his points, smiling like a madman as he thought of more things to say. Once in a while, Louis would look over at him and chuckle. Harry would give a fake offended look, but they exchanged no words. 

After school, Louis met Harry at his locker. He had been walking home with Harry every day lately. Louis's sisters had dance class after school, so his house would be empty. And Harry's house was always empty. 

For the first few days after the incident, Harry's mom went out of her way to be in Harry's line of sight. She would sit on the couch in the living room or the head of the marble table where his dad used to be. Eventually, that stopped and she started spending more and more time in her room where Harry never saw her. 

It didn't affect Harry too much since he often went to work at the bakery, and when he was home, Louis was with him. Harry was just concerned about his mother, who spent a lot of time alone these days. 

The two boys made their way up the stairs and into Harry's room. They sat in silence for a bit, both reading their homework or a book. 

Harry wrote a quick note in the margin of the thick book he was reading, before looking up at Louis again. He has noticed how quiet Louis was being today. Of course, Louis was a quiet person in general, Harry knew that, but today was different. Louis was fidgeting with his sleeves, tapping his fingers, biting his lip, and pretty much performing every nervous tick you could possibly think of.  

"I found a way around it." Louis finally said, breaking the silence. 

"Around what?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows, looking confused. One of the only things Louis' said today, and it made absolutely no sense. 

"Feeling your dad," Louis admitted quietly. "You know... on my arms."

Harry's heart sunk in his chest. He knew where this was going, he just wished it wasn't. He reluctantly asked, "what's your solution?" 

"My thighs. I don't feel him there." Louis whispered. He put down his book facedown, saving the page. He rested a hand on the side of his pants, the outside of his upper thigh. 

"Baby," If it was possible, Harry's heart would be on the ground between his feet. "Please tell me you didn't."

"I did and I'm sorry. I regretted it right after I did it and I regret it now. I'm sorry Haz." Louis put his head down. Harry swore he saw a tear drip down, but it was gone in an instant. 

"I'm sorry Lou, but I've gotta ask." Harry bit his lip timidly. His question was sitting on his tongue, but he was too afraid to say it. "Was it something I did?"

Louis jerked his head up. "No! It wasn't you. It's never you."

Harry sighed in relief. He didn't know what he would do if he somehow hurt Louis.