SOLITUDE

Chapter Fourteen

After the tiring day, the two boys arrived at Louis' small flat, ready to simply rest and sleep away the rest of the evening. Louis glanced at Harry with the corner of his eye, watching the younger boy climb his way up the staircase leading to the top floor of the apartment building, panting a little, his breathing heavy.

"What's up, Hazza?" He asked, smirking a tired little smile at the curly lad who leaned against the wall covered in white paint and bright graffiti messily scrawled in neon colours, his hand on his hip and a few stray curls falling in front of his darkened eyes. "Tired already?"

"You have no id-" Harry's words were cut off when he groaned loudly, his eyes squeezing shut in pain as he tilted his head forward, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, his hand digging into the injured hip.

"Harry?" Louis was already at his side, his smile falling, turning into concerned blue eyes that proceeded watching the younger boy's every small move with a small frown, following every breath he took. "Harry, what's wrong? Breathe for me, sweetheart,"

Harry's chest heaved as he proceeded his short breathing, his lips parted in a gasp. "Oh- oh god, Lou, it hurts,"

"What hurts, baby?" Louis whimpered hopelessly, not knowing what to do as he grasped Harry's cold hand in his own, watching the pale skin contrast from his own golden tan, and he looked up to meet Harry's frantic wide eyes.

"I don't- I, uh, Lou, what's happening to me-" Harry grunted, cringing at the pain in his left side. "I don't understand,"

"Breathe, okay?" Louis whispered, his own eyes mirroring Harry's frightened ones, and Harry nodded a little, through the shaking of his body, as he let himself slide down the length of the cold white wall, Louis following his movement, sitting himself down on the ground despite his neighbour's doors being right opposite them, still gripping Harry's hand tightly with his fingers.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut when he felt the warmth of Louis seated on the ground next to him, breathing in deeply and exhaling, not bothering to open his eyes. It was like everything was fading away, along with the pain in his rib, along with all the thoughts that were clouding up his brain.

All he could see, hear, feel was darkness.

Darkness was peaceful and nice and a good breakaway from the reality, until the darkness also faded away, replaced with vivid flashes of images of his father. He felt one kick, two kicks, a slap, something pull on his hair, and he felt his body curling up protectively around himself.

Meanwhile, Louis was living a nightmare.

Harry was sitting curled up against the dirty wall by the stairs, shaking, tears pooling out of his squeezed shut eyes, streaming down his flushed cheeks, his lips closing and opening, letting out small whimpers and pleads and begs of letting go, and Louis even heard his name once or twice, between the muffled words.

He reached out to stroke his shaking fingers through the damp curls, breathing in shakily when he saw Harry itching away from the touch and curling up into himself.

"Lou, Lou, Lou," He chanted under his breath, pressing his face into the material of his own jeans, muffling the continuous chain of Louis' name, and Louis literally felt his heart break in two; not only because he didn't know what was happening to the boy, but also because it was his name. His name, the first thing that came to Harry's head, even in the state that he was in. "I'm sorry, so sorry, Lou," He mumbled through the sleepy state, his mind flashing with images of his father, his body shaking.

"Harry!" Louis whined hopelessly, feeling the cold tears stain his own cheeks as he crawled closer to the curly boy, pressing one of his hands to the damp cheek, tracing his finger down one of the streams of tears. "Harry, please,"