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The beginning of the day was normal. Louis woke up and cleaned while Harry slept in until the afternoon. Usually the short haired man wouldn't sleep that late but Louis had convinced him to watch Netflix with him all night until the sun rose so it wasn't like he didn't have an excuse for the late sleeping.
Louis cleaned the kitchen and the living room, going into the bathroom only to sigh at the still broken mirror. He didn't like seeing it in that condition because it always tumble-weeded into more bad memories.
Broken mirror was caused by them breaking up. They broke up because he tried to kill him. They distanced themselves (well more like he distanced himself from Harry). He wasn't the shoulder he needed to cry on when he was violated. And what happened on his birthday was completely caused by the fact that he had no one to talk to so they could get rid of those horrid thoughts in his head.
The blue eyed man shook his head to clear his mind and walked into the room where Harry was still sleeping with spread swollen lips. He was sleeping on his stomach with his head turned to the side so only his smooth back was visible while the sheets covered his waist and below.
"Harry, do you have any dirty clothes?" He asked, knowing that he would answer him in a few moments. He gathered his clothes from the large pile on the floor, placing them in the hamper.
"I'll wash them." Harry grumbled, making the smaller man roll his eyes.
"I don't care if they have blood on them." He replied even though it slightly did bother him. But he couldn't say anything. Harry has washed his bloody clothes before. Their relationship was actually more open than he expected.
"They're on the bottom of your mountain."
Louis chuckled at that, stopping to look over at his boyfriend who had turned his head to the opposite side so his short locks were on view. "Its not a mountain." He retorted.
"You know it is." Harry yawned, cuddling into his pillow. The muscles in his back contracted which attracted Louis' attention since lets be honest: he loved muscular men.
Louis sighed and crawled into bed, laying directly on his back so his head was resting on the space between his shoulder blades. "Have you talked to Anne recently?" He asked, not caring that he's probably still trying to sleep.
"No." His deep voice answered, "I'm still spacing myself. Why? Did something happen?" A hint of concern was lacing in his words which made Louis happy because that meant that he cared.
"Nothing happened. We've just been talking and-"
"You talk to my Mom?" Harry chuckled, earning a nod from his boyfriend. "Why?"
