flower [book 2] ❊ l.s.

two - lost in my mind

Harry thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I think I'll be okay."

"Okay, my love. Try to get some sleep, okay?"

"I'll try," Harry promised. With Louis's arms anchored around him, he at least had a chance.

/

Morning came too soon. Louis woke up to the familiar smell of bacon and pancakes, and the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach seemed completely out of place. Ungrateful, even.

But he knew that Harry hadn't slept. Breakfast at six in the morning almost always meant that Harry hadn't been able to get back to sleep.

Sure enough, when Louis padded into the kitchen, Harry was stifling a yawn. The younger boy glanced back over his shoulder, offering Louis a small smile.

"Good morning. Sleep okay?"

Louis didn't answer, too distracted by the dark bags that hung under Harry's eyes. He looped an arm around Harry's waist, leaning in to brush his lips over the looming shadows.

"You didn't sleep," he stated bluntly.

"I did," Harry protested, spooning the last of the pancake batter from the bowl. It sizzled noisily when it met the hot skillet. "A little."

"A little?" Louis repeated.

"Enough," Harry replied, avoiding the older boy's gaze. "I slept enough."

The rest of the morning flew by. Harry kept the leftovers from breakfast hot, knowing that Liam and Niall would be coming over for brunch. In truth, he had barely slept three hours; every time he finally drifted off, the clamor of voices started up again. Maybe if he could have understood what they were trying to tell him, it wouldn't have been so frustrating.

But he couldn't. It was all a big jumble of loud, loud, loud.

He startled when Louis's fingers curled around his wrist, squeezing to get his attention. He found himself staring blankly at the counter top. It took a few blinks for his eyes to refocus. He wasn't even sure how long he had been standing there, aimless and lost in his own mind.

"Niall and Liam will be here in half an hour." Louis's blue eyes were still dark, laser-focused on studying Harry's face to find the words he wouldn't speak. "I can still call them and cancel."

Harry brushed him off, shaking his head. "I'm fine."

"How's your head? Any pain?"

"No. None," Harry lied. "Just tired."

"Do you think the dreams will ever stop?"

"I don't know, Louis."

"I just don't understand it." He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry watched him carefully, studying the frustrated furrow of the older boy's brow. "It's all in the past, so why aren't you reliving what happened? Why are your dreams showing you things that you don't recognize?"

"I don't know," Harry repeated, although he knew that it wasn't a good enough answer. Louis hated feeling helpless; he hated not knowing exactly how the world around him worked, which explained why he pushed Harry and his non-science-approved abilities away for so long.

Just as Louis opened his mouth to pose another complicated question, a loud knock echoed into the apartment.

"I'll get the door before Niall eats his way through," he joked, trying to lift the mood. He kissed Harry's cheek on his way out of the kitchen. Harry closed his eyes, willing his headache away.