Summary: A romantic evening with Louis and Harry, but Harry has OCD.
Request from ShesInMyDaydreams
DISCLAIMER: This is not to romanticize mental illness or make it cute, it is to show how hard it can be to live with OCD. It's so much more than just being neat or liking things a certain way, which is what some people think.
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A busy day naturally calls for a relaxing night, but for Harry, "relaxing" is a very loose term. For Harry, a relaxing night consists of candle lighting, red wine, chocolate covered strawberries, movies, Louis, and his least favorite date, intrusive thoughts.
"Can you move the trash bins while I get the strawberries?" Louis asks.
"Sure." First, Harry takes two wine glasses down from the top shelf and puts them on the counter. Then, he puts his shoes on and without tying them, goes outside. A single porch light illuminates Harry's path to the end of the driveway. He starts wheeling the trash bin down the long driveway, keeping his head down and watching his feet move him forward.
There's someone outside
"No there's not," Harry says, countering his thoughts.
What if there's someone watching you right now
They can kill you
Harry speeds up his pace, now looking up into the darkness. He can slightly make out trees, cars, and houses, as well as other figures that his mind makes out to be monsters. He sets the trash bin at the end of the driveway, then looks out into the street. He squirms in his own skin, because he is not very fond of the dark.
Run
Harry takes one last look around the street before sprinting up the driveway, having convinced himself that someone is after him. He flings the door open and takes a deep breath, then leans against the door after he closes it.
"What happened?" Louis wonders, rushing to Harry.
"I don't like the dark," Harry simply sighs, knowing that Louis doesn't need more of an explanation than that.
"Alright," Louis says, knowing that there is more to the story than Harry is letting on. He lifts Harry's chin with his thumb and bent first finger and gently presses a kiss to his lips. "I set everything up in the living room," he gently says. He takes Harry's hand and leads him to the living room, revealing a few lit candles scattered around the room on the coffee table, shelves, and the windowsill.
Harry sits down on the soft brown couch and admires the two glasses of wine in front of him, as well as the chilled chocolate covered strawberries on a small plate for the couple to share. A content smile rests on Harry's face, until he sees that there are six strawberries on the plate.
"Lou?" He quietly speaks.
"Yes darling?"
"There's six strawberries. Can't have six," Harry explains. Louis looks over at the table and sees that there are, in fact, six strawberries on the plate.
"How can I help?" Louis wonders; he knows from experience that the number six can make Harry uncomfortable due to its connection with the Devil.
"Can you either add some or take some away?" He nervously asks. Harry never likes asking Louis to go out of his way to do things to make him more comfortable, especially in terms of his mental illness. He almost feels ashamed, because six chocolate covered strawberries or six of anything should not bother him. He just thinks something bad will happen, like the strawberries are poisoned, if there are six.
"I'll go get more. It's gonna go to six eventually, does just starting with six bother you?" Louis wonders as he takes the plate back to the kitchen. He doesn't seem bothered at all by having to accommodate Harry, but Harry feels like a burden.
"Yeah."
The door isn't locked
Harry looks behind him to check the door, but he can't see it from his spot on the couch. He shakes his head and tries to convince himself that the door is locked, but an uneasy feeling creeps up his spine the longer he sits and doesn't check the lock.
You don't want someone stabbing Louis, do you?
The mental image of someone standing behind the couch and stabbing Louis in the carotid artery is seared into Harry's brain, and he nervously bites his lip.
"It's fine, obviously that's not gonna happen," he whispers to himself, but he isn't so sure. If the door is unlocked, someone could very well creep into the house and harm Louis or even him.
Just as Louis returns with eight strawberries, Harry springs up and quickly checks to see if the door is locked. It is, but he unlocks it and locks it again. Then, he unlocks it, opens the door and peers outside, then shuts the door and locks it a final time. He still feels like the door isn't fully locked, but he hums to himself to quiet his thoughts as he makes his way back to the couch.
"Come here," Louis smiles, patting the space next to him. "We've had a busy couple of days, and I'm really glad we finally get a quiet night together." He grabs the wine glasses from the coffee table and hands Harry one, then carefully drapes a blanket over their legs. Harry takes a deep breath and tries to relax. He looks around at the warm, romantic lighting, along with Louis' familiar presence and soft smile, and he can't help but smile also. Everything feels perfect, so he tries extra hard to keep his mind quiet for the evening.
"I'm happy we're able to be home, too. Cheers." The boys gently clink their glasses together before taking a sip of wine, then Harry retrieves the plate of strawberries. "Did you pick these up today? They're beautiful," he smiles. He and Louis each take a bite of a strawberry, contently humming at the decadent chocolate and perfectly ripe fruit.
"I had them delivered this afternoon," Louis says. "What movie are we watching? You pick, baby, since you've been doing good today."
"I have not been doing good," Harry says.
"You have!" Louis defends.
"No," Harry says again.
"You're trying, and that's great." Louis leans forward and plants a quick kiss to Harry's head, then eats another strawberry. "Now pick a movie."
"Hmm...Pretty Woman," Harry giggles, because he knows it is one of the only romantic comedies that Louis tolerates. Louis sips on his wine and stares at Harry, like he is silently showing his disdain.
"You're lucky you're cute, Curly," Louis sighs; Harry sees the corners of Louis' lips slightly turn up to show that he is only joking. As Louis searches for the movie, Harry eats more strawberries and drinks more wine. He begins to feel anxious, so he silently counts to ten on his fingers. He repeats this five times, making sure to stop before he starts counting for a sixth time.
Hit Louis
Harry sighs at this, because he doesn't want to hit Louis. He tries to focus on the movie like his boyfriend is, but Louis doesn't have a million mental needles poking him every second, telling him to count or double check something or to do an action to prevent something bad from happening.
He counts loudly in his head, staring in the middle of the television screen before moving to the bottom left corner, then the bottom right, then the top right, top left, bottom left, and back to the middle. He blinks each time he hits a new space on the screen, and this seems to quiet his mind a little.
Hit Louis
The command rises above his loud mental counting and continuous compulsion, and Harry doesn't know how to counter it. He can't plug his ears or make the television louder, because the noise is on the inside of his brain.
"Louis?" Harry quietly says, almost shamefully.
"Yeah?"
"I have an intrusive thought and it won't go away. I've been counting for over five minutes but it's not helping," he mumbles.
"What's the thought?" Louis has paused the movie now, and he is giving Harry his full attention.
"I have to hit you," Harry says.
"Do it," Louis casually says, turning his body slightly as if to open his arm up for a punch.
"Seriously? You know that won't actually help, right?" Harry questions.
"It won't hurt to try. Come on, I can take it," Louis encourages him. Surely this isn't the healthiest way to deal with an intrusive thought, but Louis is very persuasive and Harry doesn't know what else to do. As Harry turns his body to punch Louis, all the different ways to hurt Louis come flooding in his mind. He shakes his head to clear the disturbing, unwanted thoughts, then punches Louis' shoulder. The punch isn't too hard, but it is hard enough to quiet Harry's mind...almost.
Again
Harry quickly punches Louis again, a little harder this time.
"I'm sorry. No. I shouldn't have done that. That wasn't right," he rambles.
"You're okay, darling. It didn't hurt. Liam's punched me harder, trust me," Louis chuckles, then kisses Harry. "Wanna lay your head in my lap? I can give you a little massage," he offers.
"Okay," Harry quietly says, still feeling bad about his decision.
"I promise you didn't hurt me. Did your bad thoughts go away?"
"Yeah, I still feel a little anxious, though," Harry says as he lays his head in Louis' lap.
"Hopefully that goes away soon," Louis says, then resumes the movie and starts slowly scratching along Harry's hairline and occasionally stroking his hair. Harry feels complete with Louis' touch, and the simplicity of feeling the boy's thighs under his head and his fingers in his hair helps him feel grounded. Though he periodically counts on his fingers and looks at the corners of the television screen, he is able to keep his intrusive thoughts at bay; he has made it through yet another day managing OCD.
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I'm on spring break now 😈 then we have senior trip to Floridaaaa then 3 weeks of school then GRADUATION??!!
How are you all? xx
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