Together (Larry Stylinson) ✅

Plans

Louis POV

"You should go." 

It's nearly a whisper, and I'm not even sure Harry can hear me.  But I don't care. I stare at him and motion towards the door, making it clear I want him gone. This had all been a horrible idea. 

It was funny to think that even for a second I could trust Harry. That I could let him into my life, into my house, into my body, and that things could just go back to the way they were. The way things used to be. But Harry has changed more than I thought since he moved away -- he's more selfish, more controlling, more manipulative. And this was just another example of that. 

"Louis, I'm sorry I put my hands on you. I just didn't know what else to do--" he began. His green eyes were wet with tears as he sat on the floor, using his shirt sleeve to sop up the blood dripping down his fore arm and onto the floor. 

My stomach twisted as I realized I had done that. I had bit him. Like some kind of wild animal. But I was a wild animal at this point, wasn't I? 

"Shut it, Harry," I snapped, interrupting him. My voice was back now, though it hurt a bit. I definitely damaged my throat more through the purging. I didn't care about the pain, though. I was getting to used to it. 

Harry nodded, his bright eyes darkening as he realized that this conversation was a dead end. That we were a dead end. That this wasn't happening, now or ever. 

"You should really go," I said again, getting up to head to the door. It seemed like he was having some trouble locating it. Unfortunately, when I got up, a dizzy spell came over me, and I found myself clinging to the sink as my legs buckled beneath me and my vision went fuzzy. 

As the room began to darken, I felt Harry's strong hands behind me, holding me steady. Every fiber of my being wanted to run away, but instead I allowed myself to fall onto his chest because as upset as I was with him, I needed help. And I just couldn't deny that anymore. 

Harry walked me to the couch, and my vision started coming back. I avoided his gaze, and scooted further away from him, like a child who was mad at one of their parents. Harry didn't say anything and neither did I.

There was nothing to say.

I don't know how much time went back. I scrolled through my phone for a while, trying to look up jobs to apply to. But who was I kidding, I couldn't work in this condition. Functioning in society was becoming harder and harder. 

Eventually, I put the phone down. I slowly turned to look at Harry, hoping he wouldn't notice. I assumed he was enthralled in some marketing articles on his phone, but instead, he was sitting with his hands in his lap, staring at the wall in front of him. He looked so completely lost, so out of it. Like he was searching for answers that weren't there...

"Lou," he said, turning to me and breaking the hours long silence. He must have sensed me look over him. "I really am sorry. I'll go if you want me to."

I looked into his eyes, the deep green color striking me as if I were seeing it for the first time. "Okay," I croaked, clasping my hand to my throat as I realized how bad I sounded. Harry raised an eyebrow, concerned. 

"You should go to the doctor," he said quietly. "But I won't make you." 

I nodded again, rubbing the back of my head with my wrist. I winced as my bones collided. 

"I just... what are we going to do, Louis?" he asked, turning to me. His eyes were wet and I felt mine getting wet too. But I didn't have the energy to cry. So I just looked at him with sad eyes, shaking my head. 

"I don't know," I said quietly. Harry nodded, moving closer to me on the couch. He extended a hand, gently. "Can I?" he asked softly. 

The obvious answer was no. Absolutely not. But I felt so alone right now, so lost. My mind was so clouded and foggy, I was starting to forget that I was even mad at Harry. I was just thinking about tomorrow and how I would ever get through it. It seemed so impossible. 

So I nodded, allowing Harry to come sit next to me, and gently wrap and arm around me. I leaned back into his embrace, cuddling on his chest as he rubbed my back. This wasn't a permanent solution -- this wasn't even a temporary one. But I was just so tired -- so exhausted. I couldn't do this alone anymore. 

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I woke up about an hour later with Harry still cradling me. "Hey," he said, petting my hair softly. "Hey," I replied, my voice cracking again. I bit my lip and watched Harry wince as he realized how quickly I was deteriorating. 

"Do you want water?" he asked. He looked helpless, like he was walking on eggshells. It was the same way I used to act around him when he was sick. Because I knew that one wrong move, one incorrect brand of food, one extra calorie could lead to hours of fighting and throwing things and crying. 

"Okay," I said, getting up to get it. Harry looked like he wanted to tell me to sit back down, that he would get it. But he didn't say anything. He just stood there for a moment and then followed me into the kitchen, observing as I filled the glass of water. 

I tried to hide the fact that my hands were shaking too much to hold the glass steady in the sink. But Harry noticed. Of course he did. And that's why he was able to catch it seconds before I dropped it, nearly allowing it to shatter into a hundred pieces in my metal sink. 

"I can make tea if you want," Harry said as he refilled the glass and handed it to me. I shrugged. I used to make us English breakfast tea all the time in the flat. It was our favorite. Harry nodded, assuming my shrug meant 'OK,' and proceeded to my Keurig to boil the water. 

I brought the water to my lips, closing my eyes tightly as I realized it stung on the way down. Then I put the glass down and tried to help by getting tea cups from the cupboard, a task which my shaky hands somehow managed to do without breaking anything -- just barely. I set the cups down on the counter, studying the design of Big Ben on one of the mugs, a  tourist design Harry had bought me as a joke one year for my birthday. 

That's when it hit me.

"Harry," I said, suddenly. He perked his head up, his eyes widening in my direction. "I think I should go back to England."

He didn't answer. He sort of just nodded as he fumbled with the tea. I guess he was waiting for me to explain or something. 

"I could go back and see my sisters. And I could do rehab there. I lost my job, so it's good timing. Dual citizenship, so free health care," I said, realizing too little too late that it seemed like I was kind of asking his permission. 

"I... yeah," he stammered, unsure what to make of my idea. "That would be great for you, I think. It's your decision, Lou."

I nodded, thinking it over in my head. It was just an idea for now, but it seemed so perfect. I hadn't seen my sisters in a proper setting outside of the funeral in months, and I think leaving New York, leaving this drab, empty apartment could help. And leaving... Harry....

"I'm going, then," I said, pacing to my room to get my computer. I wanted to look up flights. 

Harry nodded, grabbing the teacups and filling them with the steamed water. "Proud of you," he said softly. I nodded, biting my lip as I set my computer on the counter and scrolled through Google Flights. If I took a late night flight it would be like 300$ cheaper....

"Louis... I. Um..." Harry started to say something but cut off. I looked up at him, frowning as I noticed how upset he looked. His eyes were all dark and sullen and his lips were pouty. I felt bad almost. But wasn't I mad at him? I wasn't sure anymore...

I truly was losing control of my mind, of my emotions... It was hard to focus on more than one thing now. 

"I'll miss you," he finally said, handing me the tea. "But I'm glad you came to this decision. And I'm proud of you." 

I nodded. "I'll miss you too."