Against One's Wishes

Chapter 3

Harry has a record playing while he's lighting a cigarette and dancing a little to the beat of it. Louis just watches and laughs at him.

"You ever been to a symphony, Lou?" Harry asks, still dancing some.

Louis flops on the sofa with a smile, "yeah, of course. You should know that."

"Yeah, stupid question, right?" Harry grins and sits down on the sofa, putting his feet up on Louis' coffee table and hitting his cigarette. He sighs a little, "what's your favorite part of the symphony?"

"Uh," Louis thinks out loud, his mind so gone from the weed itself, "I don't really know... probably the finale because I can leave finally."

Harry snickers and Louis laughs as he's looking back at him.

"You're one of those people who sleep through them?" Harry asks and hits his cigarette.

"Well," Louis shrugs, "not all the time... just sometimes. I'm usually accompanied by my father, so I think that itself overshadows the enjoyment of the symphony."

Harry nods, leaning his head back on the sofa and watching Louis closely, "tell me about your father."

Louis bites his lip, wondering if he even wants to go into detail about him.

"Come on," Harry encourages, pulling the joint out again and lighting it, "it's just me here... do you think I'd tell someone or something?"

Louis glances back at Harry and Harry slowly extends the joint to Louis, his face serious. Louis licks his lips and takes it, taking a slow hit.

"I wouldn't know where to start," Louis admits and stares at the joint in his hand.

"Ok," Harry starts, placing his arm on the back of the sofa behind Louis' head, "start wherever you want."

Louis exhales the small hit and leans his head back until it's touching Harry's hand. He doesn't mind though. His body almost relaxes immediately at the feel of Harry's hand behind him.

"Can I ask you a question?" Louis starts as he's glancing back at Harry.

Harry nods and takes the joint from Louis' fingers.

"What age did you begin to hate your father?" Louis almost asks in a whisper.

Harry bites his lip, trying to smile; he doesn't usually talk about his personal life to anyone... he's never wanted to.

"I was about 11," Harry replies quietly, "why? When did you start hating yours?"

"Why did you hate yours exactly?"

"I don't... I don't like to talk about myself," Harry finally replies and takes a long hit of the joint.

"Ok," Louis says slowly and takes the joint from Harry, "I won't ask you, then and you won't ask me."

Harry glances back at Louis and he can tell he's serious. Harry bites his lip a little before he tries to start, "my dad knew I was different... that should tell you all you need to know."

"How'd he know?" Louis asks curiously.

"Does that matter?" Harry asks and tries to laugh.

"It kind of does," Louis replies softly.

Harry sighs, "I told my mum I liked a boy at the private school I attended. She didn't act like it was a big deal... she assumed I would grow out of it. But, of course, she discussed it with my dad... and let's just say, he didn't want a son like that."

"When did your parents divorce?" Louis decides to ask as he stares at Harry.

"When I was almost 16," Harry replies, "after my dad had put me in an institution."