flower [book 2] ❊ l.s.

two - lost in my mind

The man who had threatened Louis's company last year still haunted Harry's dreams. He was in jail now serving a long sentence, but even prison bars couldn't keep him from Harry's mind. As hard as he tried to protect Harry from the complications with his company, Louis just couldn't.

All he could do and say was: "Come here, Hazza, let me hold you."

Harry sniffled, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He scooted down the mattress, settling into Louis's side. Louis's hand found his waist, squeezing reassuringly as he tucked his chin over Harry's head.

"Wish I could see inside your brain, my love. Wish I could take your dreams away, just for a few nights. Give you some peace."

To his surprise, Harry shook his head, pressing a feather-light kiss to his jaw. "I don't ever want you to feel like this," he whispered shakily.

"Oh, petal --"

"You're so strong."

"Me?" Louis scoffed, almost offended by how little Harry seemed to think of himself. "You're the strong one, Haz. You're the one fending off an entire realm of supernatural voices every day. I'm just along for the ride."

Harry shook his head again, still hiding safely in the crook of Louis's neck. "No. You're so much stronger than me," he said, his voice muffled by Louis's skin. "I don't know how, um . . . I don't know how you do this all the time."

The furrow between Louis's brows deepened. "This?"

"This -- taking care of me. I wouldn't be able to bear it. I wouldn't be able to stay here, day after day, seeing how much pain you're in." He hugged Louis tighter, like the mere idea caused him real, physical pain. "Especially if there was nothing I could do about it."

Harry's back shuddered beneath Louis's hand, and Louis realized all at once that he was crying silently. "Oh, angel," he murmured. He used his grip on Harry's hip to shift the younger boy into his lap fully, getting rid of even the smallest space between them.

"I just hate it. I hate it."

"Hate what, my love?"

"Everything, Louis, I . . . I hate how nervous I get whenever you go to work. I hate how I have to analyze every last dream, every thought that goes through my head. I hate that I always wonder if something will happen to you. I hate how worried I am about everything, all the time, and I-I --"

"Shh. Look at me, petal," he cooed, tipping Harry's chin up with two fingers. "Nothing's going to happen to me. They got him -- because of you, they got him. He can't hurt you or me or Liam or anyone else. Okay?"

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I trust you." He studied Harry's glistening eyes, rubbing his thumb along Harry's jaw. "You've got to trust yourself now, alright?"

Harry looked away, shifting his gaze sideways to avoid Louis's intense stare. After a moment, he nodded.

"Yeah?" Louis murmured, his voice softer now -- but encouraging, so full of hope. "You're my precious little thing, aren't you? My brilliant baby."

Harry's cheeks flushed a bit darker, and he scooted forward to hide his pink blush in the crook of Louis's neck, smiling as he nodded again. The thick darkness finally felt more comforting than suffocating, and little by little, bracketed by his boyfriend's arms, Harry felt his fear of his own thoughts start to fade.

"Precious angel," Louis cooed, looping both arms around Harry's back to hug him even closer. "Now, let's try to get some sleep. Do you need me to get you a pill?"