There's a whimper that comes piercing through the shadows of the night, making me jolt awake. My heart hammers, hoping that it isn't a demon trying to lure me out of bed.
It happens again, this time, mumbling follows with it. I press my ear against the wall, the cold seeping into my skin, making me shiver a little. I brush my finger over the wall, feeling the texture of it dip under the pad of my finger.
"I'm not! Please, leave me alone. Please," Louis' voice begs quietly, and my brows knit together.
I peel the duvet off from me, the cold chasing the warmth, even through this ridiculous onesie. I place my feet into the slippers, shuffling out the room as quiet as possible. I open Louis' door slowly, poking my head through the gap to see that the room is still pooled in the dark of the night.
I move closer to him, his silhouette laying in his bed, covers screwed up over his torso, as he tosses and turns.
"I don't need it, I'm fine," he grumbles, his arms flailing in a dream he cannot get out of.
"Lou," I whisper gently. "Lou, wake up."
He flinches in his sleep, whimpers. "You can't force me," he says, his voice shaky more than ever, and I'm pretty sure I see the glint of a tear on his cheek from the alarm clock's light. "You can't. I'm being punished, this is God. I'm being punished."
My brows crease downward, confusion swirling through my body, heart thumping. I go to touch his arm, but it comes out on its own accord, and his fist connects with my jaw, making me yelp.
"Louis!" I say louder, trying to get him to listen through his dream.
His body jolts and thrashes, picking up a fight with someone in his mind. "Let go of me!" he screams.
I take a step back, and someone lays a hand on my shoulder, making me jump. My head whips round to see Zayn standing there in his red wooly pyjama set.
"It's alright, Lou," he says gently, he gives me an apologetic look, and moves closer to dreaming Louis. He turns on Louis' fairy lights to bring a soft dim glow to the room.
He frantically grabs onto Louis' arms, pushing them to his side. Louis fights against him, eyes glued stuck, but they move beneath his eyelids.
Zayn rocks them side to side, humming, all the while Louis screams in his sleep.
"What's wrong with him?" I ask, placing my hands protectively over myself.
Zayn looks up to me, kisses Louis' hair. "He's having a nightmare. But he hasn't had them in ages, I don't know what's triggered it this time."
I tilt my head, stepping closer. "They come due to triggers?" I ponder.
Zayn nods. "When he was younger, they came every night. Then he- well, he went into therapy, as you know, and they slowly started to stop. Only when something triggering has happened, do they seem to resurface. They've been trying to help sort it out, but it's not worked yet." He turns back to Louis, rocking side to side, as Louis begins to cry in his sleep, begging to be let go.
And shit. I didn't know it was this bad. My poor Lou, is laying there, trapped in his own mind, having a really bad dream, and I can't do anything to help. I feel useless, like a burden to him. Zayn knows what to do, I don't, I have no experience in this. That should be me comforting him, as his boyfriend. But instead, I'm standing here like a lemon, waiting for his next move.
"Louis, darling, I need you to wake up for me. Listen to my voice, Lou, you're in a dream, wake up, bubs," Zayn says against Louis' ear, the hair swooping down toward his ear fluttering slightly.
Louis screams out, making us both jump a little. It breaks my heart seeing him like this.
"You can't. You can't! I'm being punished, why can't you see that?" he screams out, sweat breaking on his forehead and back.
"What's he talking about?" I wonder.
Zayn's lips thin. He shakes his head. "He's reliving his past," is all he explains.
I think my heart may have just shattered.
Louis curses, his body trying to get out of Zayn's grip. His breath coming out shorter and shorter, heavier and heavier.
"Louis, calm down, wake up!" Zayn tries, squeezing Louis' shoulder reassuringly.
Thankfully, Louis' eyes spring open, and he screams so loud, that his voice breaks. He chokes on a sob, breathing rapid as his eyes frantically look around the dim lit room.
"Lou?" I say wearily.
His bottom lip wobbles, and he buries his head into Zayn's neck, clinging onto his pyjama top, sobbing.
Zayn presses him closer into his chest, rocking them a little more, stroking Louis' hair. "You're alright, Lou, it's over."
"Louis," I say gently, and he shakes his head, gripping Zayn that much tighter.
"Give him a minute, mate," Zayn says, giving a weak smile my way as reassurance.
I slowly sit down on the chair at Louis' desk, lip between my teeth as I watch him cry into Zayn's shoulder.
"Z-Z," he heaves.
Zayn shakes his head. "Shh, deep breaths, Lou, deep breaths, you're okay."
Louis listens, taking some deep shaggy breaths, exhaling them slowly through wobbly lips. He soon calms down, his tears drying slightly.
He sniffles, hiccups, wipes his damp eyes with a clenched fist, soft hair sticking all over the place like hedgehog spikes, and despite the situation, he looks freaking adorable.
He looks over toward me. "'M sorry, baby," he says sadly. "You shouldn't have seen me like that."
I shake my head. "Lou, I like all of you, yeah? Even your imperfections, I find them loveable."
He gives a little smile, but it soon drops.
"What triggered it?" I blurt without really thinking, and I place my hand over my mouth after I've said it. "Sorry. I shouldn't pry."
Louis looks to Zayn, then down to his lap. "Don't worry about it."
Zayn's brows crease. "Want to tell me?" he asks into Louis' ear, but I catch it, though how quiet he says it.
Louis sighs, nods. "Yeah, okay." He looks to me and winces a little. "I'll call you back in when we're done? I'm not ready to say out loud."
I feel a little hurt that he doesn't trust me. Slightly jealous Zayn gets to know all about him, and I'm stranded with little bits and pieces. I want to know about all of him, not just his good days, but his bad days too. But I accept his decision, and stand to leave.
I sit on my bed cross legged, yawning loudly into my hand. I take a few gulps of water to stop the nagging pull in my tummy and to chase the dryness from my throat. I can hear their voices through the wall, but can't make out what they're saying.
After a while, there's a tap on my wall.
"You can come back, Curly, I've finished burdening Zayn... Ow! What'd you do that for?" Louis squeaks.
"You're not burdening!" Zayn yells.
I rush back into Louis' room, bringing him into my crushing embrace without him being able to register I've walked in. He links his arms around my waist, nuzzling his nose into my neck and inhaling.
"Don't suffer alone, Lou," I whisper. "I'm here for you, always."
He strokes his thumb over my shoulder blade. "And I'm always here for you, Haz."
We crash into the bed, wedging Zayn into the wall. We stay curled up together, Z linking his arms over Louis too so we are all hugging. I pepper Louis' temple and cheek in kisses, and his eyes flutter close contently.
"I feel very much suffocated," Zayn chimes, moving to get up, sheets beneath him rustling. "I'll see you in the morning, guys. H, keep him safe from the shadows, yeah?"
I nod. "You have my word. Goodnight, Z."
"Night, mate, love you," Louis says under his breath, cuddling closer into me now that Zayn is standing.
"Love you too. Both of yas." He blows kisses our way, leaving the room.
I begin tracing random patterns into Louis' back, him laying his cheek on my chest, body pressed against the side of mine.
He sighs a little, hugging my closer like you would your favourite teddy. "Stay with me tonight," he pleads.
I lay my cheek on the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere," I reply lightly.
"Thank you."
We both fall asleep once I turn the lights off, curled up in each other's arms, not speaking a word of what has just happened a few moments before.
...
"H, stop shaggin' your boyfriend and get your arse up! We have lesson in half an hour!" Marie yells through the door, banging loudly.
I groan, cuddling deeper into Louis' side.
"You're being summoned," he murmurs into the pillow.
I hum deeply in my throat. "Rather stay here with you all day."
"You've got to hand in your essay," he points out.
And for God's sake, why's he got to be right?
His foot connects with the back of my leg, pushing me forcefully off the bed. I go to the floor with a thump, my eyes shooting open to stare daggers his way.
He grins down at me, hair flying all over the place. "Oops."
I roll my eyes, standing up, which causes the room to dim around the edges of my vision and the world to tilt for a few seconds. I steady myself, then I pry Lou's head from the pillow beneath him, hitting him with the pillow before leaving the room.
I quickly go do my morning routine before getting dressed in my skinny jeans and a burgundy wool jumper, grabbing my notebook and Shakespeare book, going out into the kitchen.
Marie is there making tea, handing me my mug. I allow the heat to seep through my skin, steam wisping up into my face. I blow on it, before taking a sip.
She looks up to the clock. "We're going to be late if we eat breakfast," she states, and the voice in my head cheers.
I wave her off casually. "Pretty sure this tea will keep me going until lunch time."
Her red cherry lips thin, and she finishes her tea quickly. "Come on, we better go if we're going to walk there and get there in time to hand in our essays."
I nod, gulping the remaining of my warm beverage, before shoving my feet into my boots. We go to leave, but I stop her at the door.
"I've forgot something," I rush out, running back into the apartment, slamming the door open and running up to a tired Louis, wrapping him into a hug and pressing a long lingering kiss to his lips. "See you later, my sunshine."
He blushes, flips me off. "Go on, get, before I drag you to your lecture by your ear."
I stick my tongue out at him, running back out the room and to Anne-Marie.
The clouds are thick outside, a hint of pink within the white. It's colder today as well, my hands feeling numb and I wish I packed my gloves. I'm just glad I put my beanie on last minute as my hair wouldn't fall how I wanted it to. There's a few specks of snow falling already, clinging to our coats and hair.
"Can we quickly stop off at the cafe? I want to grab a pastry on the way," Marie asks, dragging me anyway into the cafe that's come into view.
She scans the counter full of different fresh cakes and pastries, tapping her lip with her forefinger in thought. She asks the cashier for two croissants and two gingerbread men. The lady hands her the food, and Marie pays, waving a goodbye.
She hands me two paper bags with a croissant and gingerbread man in each. I look down at the paper crinkling in my closed hand.
"You really didn't need to get me anything," I insist, trying to give it to her back.
She steps away a little. "You're going to eat that croissant before I force feed it down you. You need to have something, H, our lecture is a double one, and I don't think Becky will be too thrilled if you pass out halfway through. You barely ate anything last night, you rarely touched your birthday cake, Lou had to cut it smaller because you were full, which, fair enough, but you had no tea either. You're going to eat it. The gingerbread man is for us to sneakily eat during lecture." She rips a piece of her croissant off, taking a bite.
I look to her, then stare down at the croissant that is tempting me with its golden flaky goodness. I heavily breathe out my nose, shove the gingerbread man into Marie's bag, and pull the croissant out of the bag a little, so that the tip is exposed. I bite into it, slowly chewing.
When it hits my stomach, my tummy clenches, stomach acid feasting on the small piece and bubbles around, making me feel slightly sick. But Marie is persistent, so I take another bite.
Halfway through the croissant, I'm so tempted to chuck it in the bin. I slowly inch closer toward where a public bin is sitting idle, but Marie grabs me by the arm, pulling me across the road toward the main building of our University.
I bite down a little angrily on the next part of croissant, jaw almost clenching at how my mind pleads for me to toss it away. It feels heavy in my stomach, and I'm pretty sure I can feel it kick around like a bloody baby.
Marie takes my empty paper bag, tossing it in the bin when she passes it. We walk into lecture, sitting in our usual spots in the back.
"Hi!" Taz cheerfully greets, waving enthusiastically. "How's you lot?"
"Good, you?" Anne-Marie replies.
Taz nods. "I'm alright, thanks. Nice beanie, H."
I smile warmly at her, getting my essay out of A's bag.
"You need your own bag," Marie tuts.
I tap my pen against my notebook. "Why do I need to do that, when I can easily just use yours and be a few grams lighter?"
She rolls her eyes. "You're making me a few grams heavier, how is that fair?"
I give her a cheeky grin, dimples popping. "We can go to the shops and get me one after lecture, how's that?"
She purses her lips in thought, pointing a finger my way. "Only if you get me a chicken sub from Gregg's when we are there," she reasons, and I nod my head in agreement.
We sit through lecture, and half way through the second half, my tummy begins to gurgle... loudly. I creep red, pretending to ignore it, hoping deep down it won't do it again.
But of course, my tummy gives a big 'F you,' because it decides to do it again, and for longer. Not to mention it's quiet besides Becky's voice echoing off the high walls.
Marie rumages in her bag, slamming the gingerbread man in front of me. "Please shut that stomach up of yours, people will start staring and think it's me." She picks her glittery purple pen back up, scribbling in her notebook with it.
I look down to my page, shoulders hunched toward my ears, feeling as though thousands of eyes are on me, and it makes my skin tingle unpleasantly. I slide the gingerbread man onto my lap, keeping it there. I down a bottle of water, knowing it'll fill my stomach and stop it from gurgling too loudly.
Thankfully, it shuts up, and I'm able to continue the rest of the lecture without random noises coming from within my body. I get majority of the points down, knowing I'll have to compare notes with Marie later, as she has twice the amount of notes as I do.
It's not my fault I feel tired, and have little to no motivation to listen.
Becky concludes the lesson finally, and we all scramble up from our seats.
"I was actually about to fall asleep," Taz quietly shares to Anne-Marie and I, giving a little shy grin.
I nod in agreement, smiling warmly back. "Tell me about it, nearly dropped dead."
"You sounded as though you were going to eat the arm off of the person next to you, H. Did you have your gingerbread man?" Marie asks.
I make a noise of approval. I won't tell her I stuffed it into my pocket when she wasn't looking. "Sure did, thanks for it, A."
She gives me a sideways hug, her petite frame pressed against my own larger one, laying her head on my upper arm. "Anytime, H, what friends are for." She turns to Taz. "We're going to go shopping quick, do you want to come?"
Taz smiles at the gesture. "Unfortunately, I have to meet my friend Nathan for coffee and study date. But maybe another time."
We wave goodbye, stepping out into the cold day, feet crunching in a new sheet of snow, making the place look brighter.
I shake a little with the cold, teeth chattering as we walk down the road.
"We can take the bus," Marie decides.
We wait at the bus stop, and it soon arrives, taking us the five minute drive into town.
"What type of bag are you thinking on?" A asks when we walk into Paperchase.
I raise a shoulder. "I mean, if it was up to me, I'd still be using you as a bag." She hits me on the arm playfully, making me giggle. "I quite like the satchels," I give instead, looking up to the small variety of satchels hanging lazily against their iron bars, almost like a prison.
Marie nods. "Like mine."
I point to one, tiptoeing and picking it off the shelf. It's faux leather, pale pink with a glitter covered toadstool in the middle.
Marie coos. "That one is adorable!"
"I quite like the pastel pink," I admit, chewing my lip.
But what if people make fun of me? Like they did the skirt? What if they laugh and point and call me a twat? What if Louis thinks I'm a right pansy, and decides to not like me anymore, then dumps me?
Marie clicks her fingers in front of my face, making me snap out of my trance. "Harry, I know when you get caught up in that marvelous big brain of yours. Do you like this bag?" I nod. "Then don't give a two flying fucks what others will think, as long as you like it, that's all that freaking matters." She gives a sharp incline of her head, grabs the bag from my hands and takes it to the till.
I pay for it swiftly, keeping eye contact with the cashier to the minimum.
She then drags me to Gregg's—persistent on getting her chicken sub. She grabs a packet of cheese and onion Walkers, as well as a Capri Sun. She turns to me, and when she notices I'm just standing awkwardly by the door, her eyes narrow.
"What you getting, H?" she asks.
I wave her off. "I'll just make something when I get back, I don't really fancy any of these. Kinda wanting pasta."
She gazes at me for a beat longer, before strolling over toward me and reaching her hand in my pocket for my wallet. "You did say you'd pay," she points out, striding to the checkout to pay. She even adds a cheeky cinnamon swirl into the mix, before tapping my card and leaving with a grin and wink to the guy at the till.
She bites into her sandwich, moaning blissfully as the flavour hits her tongue. She holds the baguette toward me, but I simply shake my head, stuffing my hands in my pockets—feeling the shape of the gingerbread man in one of them.
We make it to the dorms, and I chuck off my shoes, going straight for a glass of juice. I'm met in the kitchen with Niall, of all people.
"Hi, guys! Had good lecture?" he asks, busying himself in pressing two slices of bread down, mayonnaise and lettuce falling out the sides because of how full he's made this sandwich.
I nod. "I bought a new bag," I reply after swallowing the apple juice.
Niall's eyebrows raise, a smile on his face. He looks at my satchel. "It's nice! Very you. Good choice, H," he approves with a thumbs up, taking a bite of his sandwich, sauce dribbling onto his chin.
A door opens further in the flat, and soft pitter patter of feet sounds. Fluffy untamed hair reveals itself on the top of the cutest boy ever. He smiles up to me, crinkles forming by his eyes. He brings me into a hug, burying his head in my neck.
"I've missed you," he whispers. He pulls away a little, rolls his eyes. "Just got off the phone with my therapist. She says if my night terrors continue to resurface, then I'll have to go back to therapy every week like before." He looks down to his feet, eyes swirling with sadness. "I thought I was getting better," he breathes out, rubbing his eye tiredly. He forces a smile on his face again. "So, what's for lunch, Nialler?" He looks to Niall. "Thought you were making me one!"
Niall stops mid chew. "I er- I was- I forgot. I'll make you one. Harry, you want one?"
I shake my head.
Anne-Marie stares at me. "You didn't get anything, didn't you fancy pasta?"
"I can whip up some pasta. I'm better than Louis," Niall announces with a cocky grin.
Louis flips him off, Niall cackles loudly.
I rub the back of my neck. "I'm not feeling too good. I think I need a nap and sleep it off."
Louis' lips pull down. "What's up, baby?" he queries, tucking some curls behind my ear.
"Feel a little sick."
"You didn't say anything in Gregg's," Marie chimes.
"It-er- it happened during the bus ride home." I rub my nose. I hate lying. I'm never good at it, I just hope they buy it.
Louis frowns, nods a little at the comment. "Alright, Sun. I'll wake you up before dinner, yeah?"
I kiss his cheek. "Okay." I drag myself into my room, closing the door behind me and letting out a breath.
I must admit, I am exhausted. I'm finding it hard to breathe whenever I move around. I take a quick puff of my inhaler before crashing onto my bed, deciding to take that nap.
...
Louis wakes me up a few hours later. I was stirring out of my sleep anyway, tummy aching with the need for something to fill it up.
He bops my nose with the pad of his warm finger, smiling down at me. He pulls me up to sitting, making the room go fuzzy around the edges and a few stars to appear in front of me before subsiding a few seconds later. He scoops me into his arms, carrying me out into the kitchen where the aroma of spices and herbs fill the air.
Zayn and Liam are both at the stove, stirring pots of something, a frying pan sizzling and spitting fat from the chicken breasts inside.
The smell travels through me, my tummy stirring from within, waiting impatiently for it.
Louis keeps me in his lap as he sits on a stool. He hands me a beer and I sip it lightly.
"So, for tonight's delicious dinner, cooked by our beautiful Pakistani—Mr Zayn Malik—is a chicken salan," Liam boasts, bumping his hip into Zayn's, making him blush.
"Don't worry, A, I know you're not too keen on it being too spicy, so I made sure it was quite mild," Zayn reassures with a wink.
Marie raises her beer, taking a gulp.
I worry my lip between my teeth. What if I feel sick after eating something so heavy? What if I am sick! What if I get fatter?!
My leg bounces on its own, and Louis lays his hand against it.
"H, want to watch a movie while we have dinner? Your choice, just the two of us," he asks me.
I look to him, his blue eyes warm and homey. I take a deep breath, and incline my head in agreement. "Okay," I whisper back.
We step off the stool, and into the front room. I choose on The Notebook as it's showing on Channel 4. Zayn is quick to finish the dish, and we go up to serve ourselves.
Louis spoons two spoonfuls of rice into my bowl, and one spoon of curry. It's not a lot at all, it doesn't even go past halfway in the bowl, but to me, it looks enough, it is enough.
We settle on the sofa, and we catch the film five minutes in. I watch contently, eyes flickering over the screen.
"H, please eat up, I know you didn't feel well earlier, but you did skip lunch, and I feel like this'll make you feel better." His eyes are hopeful when I look to him.
And I can't see him frown again, or get sad like he did earlier. So I pick up my spoon, and take a little bit of rice, spooning it into my mouth.
The curry is delicious, and Zayn has done a great job. But the voice in my brain just yells that this is wrong. I stare at the TV screen, the film filling my mind and almost drowning out the voice— so much so that I'm spooning more food into my mouth without really registering it, as if it's a natural reflex, like blinking or breathing.
When I look down at my bowl, there's only one spoonful left. I drop the spoon, shakily placing the bowl onto the coffee table in front of me. Cannot believe I just stupidly went against my inner judgement and practically ate the lot. I curl up into Louis' side, who is finishing his last bite. He ate slower today, as if he was pacing himself with my own bites.
He strokes my hair. "How you feeling?"
I press my cheek against his shoulder. Guilty, I think inside. "Okay," I say out loud.
We lay there for a while, Louis playing with my hair, whilst my mind takes me back to last night. The way Louis completely freaked out in his sleep. I touch the bruise on my jaw from where he accidentally punched me.
"Lou," I ask gently. "Why did you have a bad dream again?"
He stiffens behind me, the hand that was playing in my hair abruptly stopping. He cautiously runs his fingers through my hair once more after a beat. "It's nothing," he gives.
I look up to him. "I want to be able to help you through them, Lou. And I know that you get triggers to start them off. I want to be there to help you from the triggers if I can. Please." I take a shaggy breath. I don't want to pry too much, but he's my boyfriend, and I want to be there for him, the way he's there for me. "I just want to be there for you."
He sighs. "Harry, can you drop it, yeah? I've talked to my therapist about it, it'll be fine," he decides a little forcefully.
My lips thin a little, realisation dawning. "You don't trust me, do you," I say it as a statement, more than a question.
He shakes his head. "That's not it at all," he tries.
"Then what is it? If it's not that, why so afraid of telling me?" I ask desperately. If I can't help myself, I want to at least be able to help him. It's what partners do!
"It doesn't matter."
"But it clearly does, if it caused you to backtrack."
"Just drop it." His voice is getting agitated, and his hand drops from my hair.
"No!"
"Harry," he warns.
"Please! We're meant to trust each other, and tell each other everything."
He scoffs. "Sure, like you've done that recently."
My brows crease. "I've told you everything! I have nothing to hide, I've told you all about my past, I opened up to you. Why can't you open up to me, too?"
"I said, it doesn't matter!"
"Lou, please."
"For God's sake, Harry! It was you, okay!" he snaps.
I flinch at the way his eyes slightly ablaze, and his voice raises a little too loudly for my liking. He shifts, pushes me slightly off of his shoulder, folds his arms over his chest.
And wait a moment.
"W-what?" I whisper, thoughts whirring through my head. "What do you mean?"
He sighs loudly, rubs his hands against his face. "You triggered it," he muttered quietly.
My heart hammers, shatters, pierces. Tears begin to well up, but I try my hardest to force them down.
You're no son of mine! You're a burden to our family, wish you were dead!
"I-I," my voice gets caught in my throat. My bottom lip wobbles a little, I can't help it.
Sensitive little Harry.
Louis looks at me then, and his body relaxes, arms uncrossing. He reaches out for me. "Oh, Harry, you didn't know it was you, it wasn't your fault," he softly says.
I shake my head, moving a little further away. My stomach sloshes, the hurt, and the fuller tummy not mixing nicely. I feel a little sick and very much upset. I can't believe I made my own boyfriend to hurt like I did. And I don't even know what I did for it to happen.
I go to leave, to be alone, to drown myself in my own dark thoughts. But he's quick to catch my hand, and he hauls me onto his chest, cradling me. He rocks us side to side, the same way Zayn did the night before.
He kisses the top of my head. "Shhh, you didn't know," he bumbles.
"I am so sorry, Lou," I croak, tears beginning to slip from my eyes.
"Nothin' to be sorry for, love. Nothin'."
"H-how did I?" I question.
His grip tightens around my chest, and I'm grateful he's not touching my waist or tummy right now, because I feel so utterly disgusting in this moment, that he'll sure to feel all the lumps and pudge I feel there as well.
"If I tell you, I don't want you blaming yourself, okay? Deal?" he replies.
I squeeze him back, showing I understand, not trusting my voice because if I open my mouth, I could potentially sob or vomit.
"Harry." He pauses, sighs, starts again. "I'll start from what my dream was, okay? I was dreaming about when the twats in the conversion camp decided to punish us by not feeding us regularly. After that happened, I began punishing myself. My brain was stuck on loop, saying that it was God's doing, and that he was angry at me for being gay. I dropped a stone within seven months because I wasn't eating. My mum noticed, and she took me to the doctors.
I was then referred into rehab that specialised in children with eating disorders. There was one nurse there—Kelly— she wasn't very nice. She would force feed the kids that weren't improving, without the consent of the doctors. She pinned me down one day, and it just panicked me. She tried to force feed me a Crunchie chocolate bar one day, and my brain just kept screaming at me that I wasn't allowed to eat, God would be angry, God would be this and that, and all the other bull of that big guy in the sky.
She finally got it into my mouth and I felt so scared and disgusted, that I threw up all over her. She slapped me, Haz. Doctor Brandon fired her when he stormed in after hearing me screaming. I liked him, he was always patient and kind. He was the one that properly helped me out of it all."
I listen carefully, my heart cracking. I want to give it to him, to show him how much I care, how much I am upset for him to go through all that. No child should've gone through all of that. And then it hits me like a shit ton of bricks.
He knows.
He fucking knows!
"You know," I reveal.
He nods his head. "Yeah, Curly, I know. I didn't at first, but I had my superstitions. When you skipped a few meals in front of us, that's when it proper clocked for me. It's why it brought back so many memories. Because I've gone through something similar to you, love. I don't want you punishing yourself the way I did myself. No one deserves it, and you're gorgeous the way you are. Marie also gave me a heads up, too, I think she figured it out last night."
My head swims with this new information. They know I'm struggling, and they've been subtly trying to help. Well, Louis was subtle. Marie, not so much.
"Hazza, can you tell me why you've been cutting down?" he asks nicely.
I nuzzle my nose into his neck. He latches his chin over the top of my head, keeping me close.
Tears spring on their own accord, and they slip down my cheeks, resting on my chin. "After... After Marcus' p-party, I-I, I just felt as though I wasn't pretty enough. After that guy made fun of me, and touched me, I just felt disgusting in my own skin, and I realised how chubby I looked, and that's probably why he and the others laughed at me," I admit, crying now.
Louis begins carding his fingers through my curls, tugging slightly, which relaxes me a little. "Oh, H. You're not chubby, you're perfect, and even if you were chubby, I'd still see you as perfect. You're beautiful the way you are, gorgeous even, and I'm so fucking lucky to have a boyfriend like you. And as for those imps, they just got stuck in their own views that their parents probably force fed them. They don't know what's right and what's wrong. They're tits." He hugs me tighter.
We sit there for a while, me crying like a baby, Louis humming us soft tunes.
After a while, he clears his throat. "If I allow you to help me, H, will you allow me to help you in return?" he asks sincerely.
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Yeah, Lou. Yeah, okay."
He tilts my head back so I can look at him. He gives me a warm smile, then brings our lips together for a kiss. It's slow, and soft, but it tells a thousand things we haven't said aloud. It tells us that we now give permission to give each other our full trusts. It tells us we are okay, we will be alright.
It speaks the words we are too scared to say out loud just yet. I love you.
A/N- HIIIII
OMG THERES SO MANY CHAPTERS ALREADY ANF I STILL HAVE SOOOO MANY IDEAS TO GO!
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