troublesome

{11}

me last chapter: hEy GuYs I pROmIsE nEXt cHApTeR wIlL bE uP sOoN!

*18 days later* (literally)

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Harry's POV:

His entire body collapsed into mine as I rushed to catch him and wrap my arms around the small boy. His body shook with heartbreaking sobs as he nuzzled his face into my chest.

I looked at Liam, my eyes wide. Did I go too far? I'm already feeling bad about losing my temper before, but I just couldn't take it anymore.

Liam gave me a reassuring nod and sad smile, before leaving to give us privacy, making me believe this is exactly what Louis needed. I wondered how long he's been keeping this in.

I could tell he was trying to stop crying, and I weirdly didn't want him to. "Let it out, Lou." I started to rub his back. He let out more sobs and I stood there rubbing his back through all of it.

"I-I-I—" He hiccuped between words and couldn't take in enough air through his sobs to get anything out.

"Shh, Loubear, you're okay. Take your time, yeah?" My voice was soft and hardly above a whisper. "You're okay." I whispered again.

"But-but I'm n-not. I'm not fucking okay. You don't understand!" He stopped to catch his shaky breath in between hiccups. "Ev-every time I-I close my eyes he's right there. He won't stop!" Louis started to shout, his head still resting against my chest and his grip around my torso was getting tighter.

My breath hitched and my heart rate started to increase. "Louis what are you talking about?" I forced my voice to stay calm as I didn't want to risk doing something that would make him stop talking.

"I thought I was okay. But-but I j-just can't stop h-hearing his voice and-and seeing him." He sobbed.

I couldn't handle the information I was just told. I took the fragile boy back into my arms and hugged him ten times tighter than before.

I closed my eyes tightly, feeling a tear fall down my cheek. No. Not him. He doesn't deserve this. I couldn't help myself and started to think back to all the times where I had been such a fucking, ignorant, naive imbecile.

Louis was four. He walked into the door knob and got a black eye.

Louis was five. He started little league football and that's why he had bruises on his arms.

Louis was six. He fell out of the tree he climbed and broke his arm.

I felt him take in a deep breath, making me tighten my grip around the small boy in my arms.

He was stuttering, desperately trying to get something out, making his breathing get faster at the lack of air he was providing himself.

"Sh, sh, Lou. We can talk later, okay? Right now all I need you to do is take deep breaths for me. Can you do that, love?" I forced myself not to ask him about what he said before. He nodded against my chest.

I rubbed his back gently, resting my chin on the top of his head, his fluffy mess of hair tickling my neck, but I didn't care.

"Hazza." He sobbed, his voice weak and raspy, while grabbing a handful of my shirt. I could physically feel my heart ache at the pain in his voice.

"Deep breaths, love." I reminded, realizing that I was not breathing deeply either.

I stood there, directing Louis on his breathing, while trying to calm myself down secretly. His breath evened out, but he was still shaking slightly.