high flyer // l.s

f i v e

As Future dragged Harry back to the present, Harry found himself lost in his thoughts.

He thought death was meant to be peaceful.

This, this wasn't peace. This was torture.

He'd watched Louis, oblivious, innocent Louis come across his broken body, full of demons and sins.

Harry hadn't stopped sinning since Louis.

First it was just the odd drink, then one every night, accompanied by a pack of cigarettes, until that wasn't enough and Harry just needed to escape.

So he started hitting the hard stuff.

Cocaine, heroin, you name it, Harry had tried it.

It wasn't an addiction, per se, more of an escape.

After all, that's all Harry wanted.

He didn't really want to die, he just wanted the pain to stop.

Only, Harry didn't know that.

Harry still couldn't get back to his body.

He didn't understand why, but he was stuck, somewhere between earth and whatever was after that.

So all he could do was stare at the broken body on the floor.

And then a figure appeared next to him.

"Not so pretty, is it?"

Harry didn't know how to respond to that.

So he stayed silent.

"Let me show you something."

And then a hand reached out and touched his arm.

And then he wasn't in the bathroom anymore.

He was at the club.

Sweaty bodies surrounded him, pushing past him, pushing through him.

"What is this?"

"This is the present. The present you left behind, that is."

Harry glanced around the club, trying to figure out why he'd been taken here, of all places.

Then he saw it.

Louis, with his phone pressed to his ear, swatting at Zayn as he tried to talk to someone.

"Harry? Harry please, pick up the goddamn phone. This is the seventh time I've called and I'm worried about you, Haz. You never go this long without flicking me a text, and it's Christmas, goddammit."

A tear trickled down Harry's face.

It was Christmas.

He'd done this to Lou on Christmas, of all days.

Louis loved Christmas.

Every year, he would make the boys buy a tree, regardless of where they were, and they'd all facetime or skype as they opened each other's presents.

Nothing made Louis happier than to see the looks of elation that covered the other boys' faces as the opened his gift.

It was always the best, most thought out gift.

And he'd have his gift ready to give to Harry in the morning, because for the first time in years, they were spending Christmas together.

But Louis wouldn't have anyone to give his gift to.

Only a dead body of a dead boy who'd given up everything for some fucking peace.

Harry's shoulders shook as the tears flowed free, reminding him of what he'd left behind.

He didn't want this.

Not for Lou.

But he was so goddamn selfish.

"Y'know, it's not over yet. You're still breathing. It's up to you, whether you live or die."

The man nods over to Louis.

"At least consider living, for him."

All Harry could do was nod.

He never really wanted to leave.

Not really.

And he was starting to see that.

"Can I go back?"

"Not just yet."

"What? Why?"

"There's two more people for you to meet."

And so Harry placed his arm on Present's, and was taken back to the dinghy bathroom with the leaky faucet.

Harry watched his body, watched his chest rise and fall, watched his fingers twitch and spasm, watched the vomit pour from his own disgusting mouth.

He could practically see the life draining out of himself.

But he wouldn't leave.

And he couldn't help but think that it was all for Louis. Everything he'll do, it'll be for Louis.

To save him.

-s