long live (the burning blue)

IV

112 Days

May 2013

Harry is 19 and Louis is 21.

Harry rubs at his tired eyes, getting up from his seat at his small desk. He paces around the room, Liam watching worriedly from the couch across the room.

“No sleep?” Liam asks softly.

Harry laughs harshly. “How ironic of you to ask that to an insomniac, Li.” He wishes Zayn was home.

They had a strange dynamic, the three of them. Harry finds it easy to ignore the pounding in his head and stress in his bones when he's around Zayn and Liam. Some nights were worse than others. Liam and Zayn would come home from their afternoon classes and jobs to find Harry curled in bed, sobbing uncontrollably. His therapist described it as 'curling in on himself.' Liam would say nothing, wordlessly crawling over Harry to lay beside him, whispering soft sympathies as Zayn brought the tissues from the bathroom and cocooned himself over Harry's shaking body.

It would be a strange sight to see, if you had walked into that bedroom. Zayn squishing Harry, Harry sobbing wildly, and Liam near-tears himself. Normal people need their space to cry. Harry definitely isn't normal. On nights like this, he describes it as a feeling so unbearable, like he would explode into a million sharp fragments if he couldn't keep himself together. Curling in on himself, kept himself from bursting, kept Liam and Zayn from having to pick up the remains of Harry's carnage. Liam and Zayn helped in keeping him contained. He was sure they weren't aware what they were doing anymore; their tender touches and protective embraces keeping him from falling apart at the seams. Sometimes Harry felt like a rope stretched out for miles, until his middle was nothing but individual strands, capable of tearing apart at any moment.

They were a very independent and solitary group, for Harry's sake. They knew they had to protect him. It wasn't often that Harry took down his walls and invited someone in. When Harry invited Niall to come live with them, Liam and Zayn were concerned about Harry's well-being and safety. They were very wary for Harry's sake, and for Niall's sake as well. It was made very clear that Niall could never harm Harry in any way, shape, or form. Niall was quick to oblige, that Harry was a very special person in his life, and that he would do everything to protect him. That was the first time Harry had cried in front of the three of them.

Harry slowly lowers himself onto the small couch, pressing his body against Liam's warmth. He remains like that, deep in his own, dark, thoughts while Liam hums and absentmindedly runs his fingers through Harry's hair. Harry feels safe and protected against Liam, the soft, rhythmic beat of Liam's heart against his back. He sighs, feeling pressure at his temples. Oh, how he desperately wanted some sleep.

Niall came home no more than ten minutes later, making a room for himself against Harry on the couch. He shifts and squirms until sliding into place, fingertips running along the length of Harry's spine. “How was your day, Haz?”

Harry relaxes at the nickname. “S'okay,” Harry mumbles, head leaning to rest on Niall's shoulder. “How's yours?”

Niall hums thoughtfully. “Passed my physiology test. Fuck, took ages though. Had to stay after class. That's why I was late. Sorry, Li. I know you wanted to play some Xbox.”

Liam says something in response, but Harry isn't paying much attention. He feels Liam's chest moving as he speaks, faster when he takes in air to laugh at something Niall says. This is home. And if Zayn were here, with them, he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

After what feels like 5 minutes, Niall gets up from his tight spot between the couch and Harry. Whining in protest, Harry grabs a hold of Niall's hand, pleading for him to come back and give him the warmth and safety he so desperately craves.