Slayed || Sequel to Homicidal

XVIII

“Yeah,” Harry nods. He clenches his eyes shut as Louis slowly pulls back the fabric, all the way up to his elbows. As Louis stares down at the cut, eyes wide and mouth agape, he burts into another round of tears.

“Harry—” Louis tries to get a word, but Harry cuts him off with his crying, collapsing down onto his chest as his heaves up and down quickly.

“I'm sorry,” he rushes out, and Louis digs his nails into Harry's shoulders and holds him tighter. “This is the first time I've ever done it. I hated it. I'm sorry, Lou, I'm sorry. I'm not like my dad, I swear. Please.”

Louis squeezes his eyes shut as a few tears slide their way down his cheek. He hates how Harry starts to ramble when he gets upset and says things he's trained to say, when all Louis wants is for Harry to be his own person and happy.

“Shh,” Louis slides his hands down Harry's back. “You don't need to apologize to me, remember? You're fine. You're so fine, baby. Shh. Just take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?”

Harry's breath hitches when he breathes in, which sends a few more tears out from his eyes. Louis kisses him on both of his cheeks, rubbing his back.

“You can do it,” he says. “Show me that you can do it. Take a deep breath, sweetheart. Slowly, okay?”

Harry nods and draws in a breath, slow and shaky when he breathes out. Louis lets his fingers drift across Harry's temples before he cups his cheek, kissing him on the nose with gentle lips.

“Good boy,” he praises. “You're okay, see? One more breath for me, baby. Just like the one before.”

Harry breathes in like before, his exhale a bit more steady this time as he tries to centre himself. Louis holds him tightly, murmuring sweet things to him until Harry's breathing is back to normal and his tears have dried to tracks. He's so tired now.

“Let's go to the bathroom so I can clean you up,” Louis voice is soft and comforting, and Harry hasn't ever needed it so much. “Stand up. I've got you, okay? I'm going to take care of you.”

Zinnia comes out of her room just as Louis is guiding Harry into the washroom, but she quickly goes back in it when she sees how broken Harry looks. Louis isn't stupid, he knows they'll have to talk about it in the morning, but he only cares about Harry right now.

“Sit right there,” Louis points to the toilet lid. “I'm just going to go get some rubbing alcohol and a band aid from the hall closet.”

He doesn't care if he's treating Harry like a little kid. The only wounds he'd ever had to clean were Chapin's when he was babysitting her, and he had to talk to her in the way he is to Harry. Part of him doesn't care if it's demeaning, he only wants Harry to be okay.

“Pull up your sleeve for me,” Louis instructs as he wets a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol in preparation for cleaning Harry's wrist. He dabs at the skin when it becomes exposed, then rubs in a slightly harsh to make sure the cut is clean. He peels the packaging from the band aid and presses the sticky part to Harry's wrist, then kisses the centre of it. “There you go,” he soothes.

Harry looks up at him with big, wet eyes. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Louis really wants to kiss him, but he doesn't.

“Can I stay over?” Harry asks, voice so small and timid.

“Of course,” Louis answers. He doesn't know what to do anymore now that Harry isn't crying. He eyes are harder, testing, and Louis doesn't know what Harry wants him to. If he wants him to do anything.

Louis leads Harry back into his room, handing him a pair of his larger sized boxers and shirts he keeps reserved for sleeping in.

“I have sweats if you want them,” Louis says.

Harry looks down at the clothes and shakes his head. “These are fine.”

“I'll leave you to get changed, then,” Louis backs out of his room and closes the door. He sinks down onto the floor, sliding down the wall beside his door and dropping his head into his hands.

He hears clothes drop to the floor and then the sound of rustling before the door opens. Louis quickly stands from the floor, cheeks flushing when he sees the way his shirt falls to the top of Harry's thighs and hangs off one shoulder. He likes Harry wearing his clothes.

“Do you—Can I...” Harry stops, and he doesn't start speaking again until Louis touches his shoulder. “Can I sleep here with you?”

Louis can't stop himself from smiling. “I'd love that.”

He takes Harry's hand and closes his bedroom door, switching his light off and snuggling Harry as the fall onto his bed together.

“Can I say something?” Louis asks and Harry nods. “Babe, I know I messed up, but I'm a human, and humans make mistakes. It was stupid, I know, but I'm like that sometimes. I'm not asking you to forget about what I did or think it's right, but I'm asking you to forgive me and give me another chance. I love you. You know that I love you. I messed up. I messed up big time, but I still feel the same way about you. It seems like I lied to you, I get that. And I did, and I'm so sorry, but my feelings will never change. I love you. Please, Harry.”

Harry clenches his eyes shut. He actually has the willpower to roll away and ignore Louis. He remembers how his mother has forgotten to check on them and frowns. He feels like no one cares, even when he has Harry in his bed, only an arm length away, but so much farther than he ever expected him to be. 

A/N: All will be well-Anne Cox, Slayed 2014. REMEMBER THAT, OKAY? REMEMBER IT! The bridal shower yesterday... My god. My family is fucking crazy. I was listening to Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran the whole time I was writing this chapter. I thought I should tell you because it really fits the story. I've put the video in the multimedia if you want to check it out. Okay, guys, I was looking at the storyline I created for the third book... It's basically all smut. Like, damn. But I thought to myself, "You've made them wait two books, you better make it good." So, I will. The actually sex scene will be so long and there is just going to be so much of it xD. I don't know, I thought I should warn you guys. I'm also, like, so bad at smut. So yeah. This is awkward now. Bye.