Save Myself // Larry Stylinson

Chapter 27

There was a small quirk to Harry's lips, despite the fact that a few tears were still running down his cheeks. Louis didn't think he'd ever seen someone who could cry so gracefully (he certainly couldn't). "I don't think I've ever heard you talk that much. And all in one go, too."

There was a teasing sort of fondness to Harry's voice and it didn't really make sense since he wasn't saying what Louis wanted him to (I love you, too) but Louis would take it. He'd take the fondness and press it to his chest and try to ignore the dull stabbing pain in his gut that was reminding him that Harry hadn't said what he was hoping for.

"I'm just done. Remember when I told you I couldn't hit bottom? I was wrong. I was so wrong. There is way worse than bottom out there, Harry. I was in my own personal hell and I should have said something to you, I shouldn't have left."

Harry was smiling now, smiling and wiping away the tears that were falling down his cheeks. Louis was mortified. He didn't understand what was so funny. He didn't get it, he was clearly not explaining himself right.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm sorry that I don't ever say the right thing, but I'm trying you know? I'm trying to be honest with you and..."

Now Harry was laughing, just tiny little blips of laughter that terrified Louis. What was he doing wrong? Why was Harry laughing?

"Are you seriously laughing at me?" he tried to be indignant but his voice was about two octaves too high to properly express it. The last word came out shrill and he squeaked on the last syllable.

Harry nodded, then, still wiping away the tears that were falling. Louis saw his dimple popping and it did something to his chest, he felt it lurch uncomfortably with fondness. Harry got to his feet then, finally closing those three steps that Louis had been agonizing over since he started rambling his confession. Harry placed a hand on either side of Louis' face, staring directly into his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm laughing because you actually think you need to keep talking. Like you actually think I needed to hear anything past 'I love you'," Harry smiled then and it was just so pure and honest Louis felt heat rushing under his skin, tinging his cheeks a soft pink, "and like, it's funny because you just told me there's a gun in your car and we have to go to the police and turn in your best friend because he tried to kill someone...and this really has no right to feel like the most romantic moment of my life, but you were never what I expected, Louis Tomlinson. I think the fact that you could make me laugh in a moment like this says everything that needs to be said."

With that, Harry leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Louis' lips. He pulled back way too soon, making Louis' head swim with his need for more.

"Oh, and I love you too, duh," said Harry, voice light as air, "but I think before we have a proper discussion about what that entails...we should probably deal with the gun thing."

...

There was a horrible, solid knot in Louis' stomach that weighed about five million pounds and it was all he could think about as he stood next to his car and watched as a police officer reached into his glovebox and pulled out the gun. Harry was still sitting inside of some waiting room. Louis was on his own. He'd told them everything he could think to say. The guy Matt had shot was someone they'd met a few times for drug trafficking charges and he was currently in critical condition at the hospital with charges pending that related back to the massive amounts of heroin they found on him at the time. Of course, the fact that he was a criminal didn't ease the ache in Louis' stomach, because criminal or not there was still a chance that he might die—and it was Matt's fault.

Louis had been through a lot of things involving Matt and most of them hadn't been good, but even in a moment like this one there was a sort of fierce need to defend him bubbling up on his tongue. Sure, Matt had done some awful things, but it was because of the cycle he was trapped in. It was because the system he was raised in was broken and no one had ever given him a real shot at being more than his parents. He'd never had a real chance at being a contributing member of society. He'd expressed to Louis on more than one occasion that he was destined to fall into hard drugs—they were what had killed both of his parents. They were also the only things that eased the nightmares that he was plagued with from his childhood traumas.