Let You Go (Larry Stylinson)

Familiar Teacups

Louis wakes up with his body aching. But the smell.... it smells like...

Home. And Harry. Which are interchangeable, really. 

Louis looks around him and he almost cries. He's in an unfamiliar place, yet it feels like he's lived here all his life. He recognises the piano in the corner of the room, the books on the bookshelf, the chipped mug of cold tea on the coffee table next to him... It's one of the silly One Direction merchandise mugs, the ones their fans went crazy over. Louis and Harry had bought one, sort of as a joke, and as Louis looks into his smiling face, frozen forever in the ceramic, he realises: Harry kept all of it. All the things from when they were together. It's all here.

Louis becomes aware of a presence in the room. He flinches, and then relaxes when he sees that it's Harry. 

"You... you kept it," Louis says, quietly. "All of it."

Harry places a new, warm cup of tea down next to Louis, and he's mildly surprised that Harry still remembers exactly how he likes his tea. Harry laughs a little bit, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly.

"Yeah, I suppose... yeah, I did. I couldn't bring myself to let go of it, I guess," he explains. 

"Doesn't it... doesn't it hurt?" Louis asks, his voice barely a whisper. The silence that follows is heavy.

"It..." Harry sighs and takes a deep breath, his face falling. "It would hurt anyways."

Louis nods slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."

"Anyways," Harry attempts to laugh it off. "I, um... the doctor recommended I take you for a scan today, check for any internal bleeding."

Louis freezes instantly, his eyes wide with fear. 

"No. No, I'm not going," he whispers.

Harry perches on the edge of the sofa, next to him. "Louis? What happened yesterday?" he asks, gently. Louis' eyes turn cold and grey.

"Nothing happened." 

Harry sighs. "Ok. When you want to talk about it, I'll be right here, ok? You can stay here as long as you need." He goes to stand up, and Louis instantly misses the dip in the sofa. 

"Where are you going?" Louis asks frantically.

Harry turns. "Just into the kitchen. I was gonna make some food."

"Can I come?" Louis asks desperately. He doesn't even care right now, he just doesn't want to be alone.

"Yeah, course." If Harry is surprised, he doesn't show it. He leans down and scoops Louis off the sofa, carrying him securely in his arms.

"Haven't done this in a while," Louis murmurs into his chest.

Harry laughs lightly. "We have, actually. Just yesterday."

"What!" Louis looks up, startled. "You carried me here?"

"You weren't exactly in a fit state to walk," Harry replies quietly.

There's a quiet pause. Then--

"Thank you," Louis whispers. "For picking up. Going to get me. Taking me here. Looking after me. I... I don't deserve you."

"I..." love you. The words dance on Harry's tongue, but he doesn't say anything. "I'll always help you," he says instead.