sold out ▸ larry stylinson

Chapter 12.

[Wednesday 16:32 p.m 42b Dulwich Road, Herne Hill., Brixton]

Louis took a deep breath before giving the door a short knock. The sound of Harry's voice had made him worried, what had he been doing? Why did he need help? But when Harry opened the door, still fully dressed, cheeks rosy, with no signs of what Louis had imagined finding, he could relax.

"Come in," Harry said, avoiding Louis's eyes as he moved back up the stair and inside his apartment. Louis bit his lip as he studied Harry's slow walk. He walked like a fucking zombie, "Thank you for coming, I thought I was losing my mind there for a bit," Harry said and gave out a low chuckle.

"Harry," Louis said and closed the door behind them, biting back a laugh, "Are you high?"

"No!" Harry said and took a step back, brows furrowed. Louis gave him a questioning look, and he burst out into laughter, "Yeah, okay, I'm bloody baked."

"I figured," Louis said under his breath as he hung his jacket on a hook beneath the hatrack. It wasn't just the walk and the eyes that gave him away, the apartment reeked, "Alright, I'm here, what's the emergency?"

Harry walked inside the living room and spread himself out on the sofa, resting his head on a cushion, "I'm okay for the moment, but when I called,...everything was spinning and I swear my heart was coming out of my chest. I thought I was going to have a heart attack!" he said, and then closed his eyes as an unpleasant look passed over his face, "Ah fuck, here we go again."

Louis knew that face, so without thinking he went into the kitchen, found a large glass and filled it up with cold water. Harry would need it, and that would be the only thing he would need for a while.

"Harry?" He asked as he placed the glass on the living room table, "What's worst?"

There were twitches in Harry's face before he slowly opened his eyes to look at Louis who stood bent over him, "It feels like I'm fake. Like I'm not real," he said, his voice shrill. Sweat formed on top of his upper lip, his cheeks blushing with heat and his hands shaking in his lap, "Louis!" he said, clenching his fists.

"Yes, I'm here. What can I do?" Louis sat down beside him, careful not to sit to close.

"Please, tell me I'm real," Harry's lips trembled.

"You're real, everything around you is real!" Louis said with the calmest voice he could manage, but it wasn't enough for Harry to stop shaking in fright. Louis knew too well what he was going through, but he wasn't sure he was allowed to do those things he knew would help.

"No, no," Harry shook his head, "I'm freaking out, you-you have to reassure me, please," he opened his eyes and looked at Louis with pleading, desperate eyes.

Louis inhaled a lung full of air, he needed to help him. He swallowed, looking down at Harry's hands in his lap. He had to.

"Okay, I'll do my best," Louis said as he exhaled a deep breath and turned around on the sofa so he faced Harry completely. Before he continued, he reached out his hands and grabbed Harry shaking ones from his lap, placed them inside of his own and held them tightly. God, they were soft, he thought but shook it away. No time for distractions.

"Harry," He said calmly, "I want you to focus on the pressure of my hands on yours, okay?" he said and hugged Harry's hands harder. They were a lot bigger than Louis', but somehow they fit perfectly inside his embrace.

"Okay," Harry whispered.

"I know it feels like you're losing control, and I know it's scary, but try focus on my hands. They're the proof that you're real, that you're here," Louis said and watched as Harry's breathing slowed down. The worst was over for now, but it would definitely come back.