I just wanted to let you know that I've started a new Larry fic on here called "I Love You But I Can't Breathe" and I would love if you could check it out if you're interested. Your support on this story was incredible, and it really inspired me to keep writing. Also, I'm sorry if you got this notification and were hoping for an epilogue (that's coming sometime soon though!)
Important Note: This book is sad. Really sad. And not in The College Experience bittersweet kind of way, but genuinely heart wrenchingly sad. If you don't like sad books, and if you don't like unhappy endings, I really recommend that you don't read it, because I don't want you to be upset or disappointed with the ending, and the general plot of the book itself is quite sad throughout.
If it bothers your mental health in any way to read sad books, please don't.
But if sad books are your thing, here's the prologue for the book, which I've just published :) The story is about Louis and Harry's relationship while Harry slowly loses function of his lungs and the nerves in his body because of a unidentified disease/disorder.
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"He was such a funny child," Anne said, her eyes glossy with tears as she looked at the screen. "Poor thing used to cry and cry until you put him in the bath. Never heard of that before, but I guess he always was a special one. Took him ages to learn how to talk too, I think my shy little angel just couldn't think of anything to say."
Louis' eyes shifted from Harry's mum back to the laptop screen, watching chubby babby Harry giggle and splash around the sink. It always startled Louis seeing Harry as a blond child, he was so familiar with Harry's dark chestnut curls. The video cut to a clip of Harry cuddled up in a soft pastel yellow onesie, drooling a little around his thumb, eyes wide and keening for attention as Anne cooed at him softly. "Who's bedtime is it?" she asked. Harry just gargled in response, his eyes glimmering with love, looking up at his mum like she were the best thing in the world, his legs kicking aimlessly. Louis' couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Harry so lively, and he felt something twist in his gut, looking away from the screen as he took a slow breath.
"I miss my baby boy," Anne whispered, her voice wobbling.
"He's still here, you know," Louis said defensively, but the words felt hollow. "You don't need to start doing this now, you could wait until..."
Anne's eyes watered, and she stared at the screen, hardly blinking as she focused on the video of Harry giggling while his chubby fists tried to get a handful of Cheerios in his mouth. Louis could tell she was willing herself not to cry. "I just feel like if I try and accept this now- if I try and get ready and let go a little at a time- maybe it'll be easier when he-" Anne started.
"If." Louis interrupted, his words coming out harsher than he intended. He hated how resigned Anne had become to Harry's situation. Sometimes it felt like he were the only one trying to carry hope. And hope was much heavier than grief. "You can't give up on your son, Anne... not while he's still fighting."
He heard Harry coughing in the other room, whining and gasping for air.
"Think he's awake now. I've got him this time, yeah? You should go out, alright? Go for a walk, get some fresh air," Louis said, quickly filling up a glass of water to bring for Harry. "The world's not ending, I promise."
"Then why does it feel like it is?" Anne asked, wincing at the cries of pain her son was making from the other room.
Louis could hear Harry trying to call out from his bedroom, and he rushed over just as the baby video on the screen looped back to the beginning. He could hear baby Harry screaming as twenty year old Harry let out dry sobs from the across the hall.
Even with the door shut, Louis could hear him aching for air.