Four years ago today, Louis had the horror to watch his brother's life dim from his eyes as he got strangled to death.
Four years ago today, Louis had to have the hard time in telling his family through broken sobs and shock that their little brother was killed, and all he could do was watch.
Four years ago today, Louis' mum saw him as nothing but a monster, Lottie saw him as nothing but a reminder that she would never have a brother she deserved.
Four years ago today, the world Louis knew it, had demolished into darkness and sorrow and guilt.
He's already cried once this morning at five when the nightmares brewed in his mind and lashed out.
He's pacing at the moment. Up and down in the living room upstairs, hands tugging at his hair to try and distract himself from the pain, which comes to no avail. His breaths are shaky, there's snot dribbling down his nose, mixing with the tears that have already made passed his cheeks. He can barely breathe, can feel the tightness in his chest squeezing more air from his lungs.
Felicite already sent him a text this morning, telling him to keep strong and that he's in her thoughts today. But he can't keep strong, he's weak.
Like Harry said, he's a fucking coward.
Thanks to his own fear, he had to stand there and watch his tiny helpless baby brother get murdered.
He has the urge to burn, to cut, to bleed, to get rid of all this pain and replace it with the numbness of a blade or a flame. He just can't bring it in himself to step forward toward the bathroom, afraid he will collapse before he gets there.
There's a knock on the door, a slight tap, tap and he frantically looks over his shoulder, shallow breaths wracking his chest. He watches Peter walk in and Louis' bottom lip quivers.
"I- I can't... Dad, I can't," is all he heaves out, before the dam breaks from within and there's a flood of emotions pouring through him, causing his knees to buckle and a wail to leave his cracked lips.
Peter catches him before he can sink to the carpet, holding him close in his arms. Louis grips so tightly onto his dad that he's surprised he hasn't broken a bone.
"I wan-nt to," is all Louis gives between sobs.
Peter holds him that much tighter, nosing the boy's hair and gives him a kiss to the forehead. "You are not going to. Owen wouldn't want you to. Remember when you grazed your knee after trying to teach him to skateboard and you fell off? Remember what he said?"
Louis nods. Of course he does, even if the voice isn't the same one as his brother produced, the words are still there, embedded deep in his memory.
"He said he didn't want to see you hurt. That it made him sad. Do you think him knowing you deliberately do so, will make him happy?" Peter gives gently. He's not trying to guilt trip Louis, not in the slightest. He's trying to open his fucking eyes to see that this pain he wants to inflict on himself isn't the way to go about this.
Louis shakes his head. "No," he croaks out. "'M s-sorry, Dad."
"Nothing for you to apologise for. It was Benjamin's fault, not yours. You did nothing wrong. Come now, son, why don't you get those tulips from the garden, hm? I won't tell Grandma that you picked them if you won't," Peter gives, knocking his knuckles softly against Louis' cheek.
Louis wipes at his eyes, takes a few deep breaths. Fresh air sounds good right now. And he'd love to get the tulips and lay them in Owen's special place. He's been doing it the past three years, he's not going to give up doing it now. It's the least he can do for his baby brother.
"Okay, yeah. Is there any there almost finishing? Or can I pick some fresher ones?" Louis asks, fixing his hair a little as a few strands spike up from where he's been tugging away at it.
Peter smiles, and Louis can see the glint of unshed tears in his eyes. He swallows. "You can pick the fresh ones."
There's a pause before Peter clears his throat.
"And, Louis? Don't worry about your mother anymore, yeah? She's chosen her place, and I've chosen mine. I choose to stick by you, because I love you, and you're the only son I have left. I am not going to give you up that easily. I know it's hard what with Jay blaming you, and now wiping you out with having another boy, but please know that you don't need her appreciation or forgiveness to move on in life. You just need to forgive yourself."
Louis gives him a weak smile. "Love you, Dad."
"I love you too, son. Now go get those tulips before I change my mind." He gives Louis a wink, and when he does, a tear escapes and he's quick to catch it with his thumb.
Louis leaves the house through the front door, chewing his lip as he goes.
Owen's favourite flower were the tulips. He especially loved the yellow and pink ones because they were 'Mumma's favourite colour.' Whenever they were in bloom, he'd pluck a few to keep them in his bedroom where his teddies would keep guard of them for him. Whenever their grandma caught him, she'd go mental, because they were her price possessions back then, along with the primrose roses scaling the wall of the workshop. Louis used to help Owen sneak them in.
But now he picks them in order to show Owen that he remembers him.
He wanders through the gardens toward the orchard. There's one place he leaves these flowers to rest, and that is the round bush on the corner of the road which they used to play in as kids, pretending it was their spy hide out. It was Owen's favourite place to go, and he would hide in here when he got upset. Louis found him on countless occasions, sitting on the top branch, using his fingernails to peel away at the surface of the bark. He'd only get upset over silly things, like Daisy stealing his last sweet in his sweet jar Grandma would give them for the holidays, and not being able to have pudding after not eating all his carrots at dinner time.
Louis smiles at the memory, wiping at his damp face. He lays the flowers down at the bush, sits cross legged in front of it and begins shredding the grass by his ankles.
"Hey, little lad," he whispers. "I know your body is back in Donny with Mum, but I'm hoping your spirit comes here with us for the summer so you can relive the fun times. Is Grandma and Granddad taking good care of you? I'm sure they are. I bet Gran is talking your ear off about how I stole the tulips, sorry, Gran," he giggles a little at that, sighing. "I miss you, O. I know I say it every year, and I'm probably going to say it every year until I die. But I'm sorry that I didn't have the guts to help you. I was more than capable of kicking that douche in the balls and getting you out of there, but all I did was froze. And that was stupid of me."
He peels a strand of grass into two, twiddling it between his forefinger and thumb. "If you are here for the holidays, I'm guessing you've seen me with H," he starts, lips lifting at the corners a bit at the mention of Harry, before it drops. "I really do like him, but we've had a bit of a falling out. He blames me for not wanting to be open about us. He says this place is the only place he gets to be truly free, which I'm guessing is because he has no one around to stop him. I mean, I guess I was a little harsh on him, 's not like I have the police on my back watching my every move, but you know how Mabel can get over gossip like this." He rolls his eyes. "I don't know what to do, lad. I know what my heart wants and me head, but I dunno which one to go for. What do you think is the right decision?"
A small breeze rustles the trees and tickles his bare ankles and arms. "You'd say my heart. You always said love will thaw a frozen heart, but that's only because you watched too much of fucking Frozen with Phoebe."
He toes a bit of clumped up dirt, watching it fall into nothingness. "I guess you'd be right. But I'm afraid if I left, I'd be making more and more of an excuse for Mum to hate me guts." He brings his legs up to his chest, resting his cheek on his knee. "I'm scared of the judgement, Owen," he whispers, feeling the threat of a wobbly lip. "I don't want to make the wrong choice."
He watches a beetle crawl over a leaf and disappearing into the mouth of the hedge until he's lost track of it. He wipes at his eyes.
"I guess only time will tell on which path I'll take, huh," he states. He gets up, his bum going numb. He brushes the dirt from his jeans. "Well, I hope my chat wasn't too boring for you. Guessing you'd prefer knowing what's new on TV, but I promise you, you're not missing out on much there." He presses his fingers to his lips, giving them a kiss before pressing said fingers onto the first few branches that make up the massive bush. "I love you, Owen, I'll see you around."
With that, he turns around and goes to leave, but not until after Clifford finds him and slams into his calves, jumping up at him with slobbery lips and a ball squeaking in his mouth, wanting to have a quick game of fetch, seemingly trying to lift Louis' spirits.
It seems to do the trick for the time being.
...
Sitting in bed, Louis' just finished his last tear, feeling a little drained.
He's crying for a new matter now. He's already shed as many tears as he allows himself to for Owen, but now he pines and wallows for little ol' Harry.
They've only got four days left until Harry up and leaves. And he's screwed the precious time they had left together by fighting with him. It's partly Harry's fault, though, he shouldn't of snapped at him to begin with, with the fact that he didn't want to make out in public in case someone saw.
He just wishes he could turn back time, or fix this. But Harry told him to fuck off, after telling him he never would, so Louis will do just that. Fuck off out of Harry's life, to his disappointment.
Clifford fusses at Louis, inching closer toward him from the other side of the bed, long pink tongue swiping along Louis' ear and cheek, trying to get his attention. Louis tries to push Clifford away, but the pup is persistent.
"What do you want, Cliff?" Louis asks, pushing his face away from his ear again, rubbing the ear against his shoulder to stop the tickle.
Clifford whines, nosing Louis' hand.
"I'm not going to go back to him, I know you miss him throwing you your ball, but it doesn't mean I have to miss him either," Louis persists, knows he's lying to himself. Of fucking course he misses Harry, it is obvious.
Clifford barks once, before seemingly getting annoyed. He sniffs Louis' feet before tugging at one.
"Ow, hey!" Louis squeaks, staring down at his overgrown baby. "The hell you think you're doing?"
Clifford takes a hold of Louis' sock, pulling at it until it pings off his foot, Clifford's teeth clamping around it. He stares at Louis, challenging.
"Give me my sock back, you dick head, me feet are cold!" Louis protests, going to sit up.
Clifford leans down, bum in the air in the posture of play, before he's charging out the room, with Louis chasing after him. Clifford runs out the house, Louis on his heel.
"Clifford!" he yells. "I swear to God if you rip that!" They're his favourite pair of socks. The ones with the avocados on them that Owen and Lottie bought for him as a joke due to his hatred over the fruit that acts like a veg.
The stones in the courtyard stab at his bare skin, making him hiss until he hops onto the slab path, feet slapping against the warm slabs. The sun is going down, yellows mixing with pinks and baby blues in the sky, clouds tinged with orange and gold from the sun, and it's very picturesque. What's more a picture, is the way Louis flees for Clifford who's finding it fucking hilarious to taunt him with his sock, rolling in the grass with it in his mouth.
"Clifford!" Louis growls, chasing him around the trampoline until he gets dizzy and Clifford takes a new course, going up the grass verge and laying down in the cropped grass, giving a small bark.
Louis pants for a breath, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. "Please, I'm not in the mood to play, lad!" Louis calls out to him. "Let me go back to my room and cry."
Clifford trots closer to Louis slowly, and when Louis sighs in relief and goes to grab his sock, Cliff shoots off with it again, continuing to taunt him. Louis rolls his eyes, turns around with floppy limbs and a pout on his face.
His eye catches a figure and he snaps his attention toward the cottage, where Harry leans against the gate, arms folded, hair laying softly against his shoulders. He watches Louis carefully, and there's a grin on his face as if he's enjoying the show.
Louis points to him. "Don't just stand there, love, help me!" he pleads, motioning to Clifford who is now flinging the sock in the air in order to catch it.
Harry is shaking his head in amusement, but he kicks off the gate and strolls casually over.
"You go that way, I'll go this way, we gotta try and corner him," Louis decides, heart fluttering when he can finally feel Harry's presence so close.
Harry moves swiftly to the left of Clifford, Louis to the right. They move slow, collective steps that they count. Clifford sees them coming, and turns, running through the space between them.
"Get him!" Louis cries out, both boys running after the dog as if there was nothing else to trouble them in the world besides grabbing that darn sock.
Louis hears Harry's giggles, and it brings a butterfly to flap in his tummy and a smile to tug at his lips. Louis is practically on top of Clifford, but Harry's clumsiness causes him to trip on nothing, and crashes into Louis, the pair going down in a stack of flailed limbs and yelps.
The breath gets knocked out of Louis and he groans slightly. When he squints his eyes up, he's met with oceans of sea glass green. That makes his breath hitch from the beauty. They stare at each other for a beat, before the pair break into a fit of giggles, Harry flopping his head into Louis' neck, hot breath hitting Louis' skin and he does everything he can not to shiver.
"I'm sorry," Louis whispers, tucking Harry's hair behind his ear for him.
"It was my fault, I have two left feet and I-" Harry begins but Louis cuts him off.
"No. I mean, I'm sorry for the shit I said. I didn't mean it. I just... I was annoyed and truth be told, I'm scared of what will happen after you leave. But I realise now that... that I shouldn't worry about the future. I should have faith in it instead, and keep what we have now, in reach," Louis admits, feeling as though a weight has lifted off his chest.
Harry smiles softly. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have called you a coward, because you're the most bravest person I've met, Lou. You have gone through so much, I had no right in telling you you were weak for not wanting to come out. I don't have a say in that, because I'm not out, either, even if our scenarios are different, we're both in this together."
Louis bops Harry's nose. "It's okay. I know you're a bit of a twat that lets his emotions take control of his mouth," Louis says lightly, rolling his eyes with a grin.
Harry flicks him on the forehead. "Hey," he drawls out. "You're one to talk!"
"I know, I know. Guilty, there, love. Can we just pretend that fight never happened, so we can have the best few days left together before you leave? I'd hate for you to leave knowing I'm a complete arsehole."
Harry nods and snakes his arms around Louis' neck for a hug. "We can, yeah. And Louis? Please never fuck off again, because the last two days have been so lonely, I missed you so much, but I was being too petty to break and come see you first."
Louis laughs, body shaking in the grass with it. "I was too petty to go see you!"
Harry groans. "God, why are we like this."
Louis kisses Harry's cheek. "I have no idea."
Clifford comes over then, seemingly bored with being ignored. He drops the now slobbery sock onto Louis' head, causing Harry to bark out a cackle. Louis grimaces at it, picks it up with the tip of his fingers and slaps it over Harry's head instead.
"See who's laughing now." Louis grins at Harry, and Harry frowns at Louis for a beat before his dimples peep through with his bunny teeth.
Louis grabs Harry's hand, pushing him off him before pulling him up to standing. "Can we go cuddle?"
Harry hums in agreement, and they both wander off toward the cottage, Louis feeling peace within himself for the first time in years, especially on this day.
He doesn't want to lose Harry again, but he's afraid that with him having to stay here, and Harry having to leave to tour and do all the shit he does as a celebrity, that maybe losing him is the only option he has here.
A/N- HIIII
see I always bring them back to happy after drama! This scene of cliff has been in my mind for ages after my dog did the same thing to me a few months ago haha
I hope this story is okay!
What will happen when Harry leaves?
Vote and comment and I'll see you in the next update
Stay Safe xoxoxoxxoxoxo