LOUIS' POV
Nothing hurts worse than the pain of being unaccepted. The overwhelming loneliness that surrounds you, the constant reminders that you're not good enough.
I remember back when I came home from school and my mum would hug me, ask me how my day was. Now she avoided me like I was some disgusting monster that would give her a disease.
And then the kids at school.
Faggot. You should just go kill yourself.
Their words burned in my mind, even when I was sleeping. Sleeping used to be my escape from everything, and now their words haunted my dreams and caused me to shake and my sheets to be soaked with my sweat and my never ending tears. The ripping in my chest was unbearable, I felt like my heart was breaking apart constantly, into tiny pieces that broke and broke until there was nothing left. Nothing but pain and hate.
And the worst thing was when I ran out of tears to shed. When all I was doing was dry heaving and waiting for something to come out, and nothing did. That's when I was tempted to go to the roof and jump off, to end it all. And one time, I was really going to. It was my first time on the roof. I went up there and I felt the slight breeze on my tear streaked face and it was like I could finally breathe. I wasn't stuck in my house where I knew my mum was downstairs, dreading the moment I would come down for dinner and eat with her and my sisters in awkward silence.
Ever since then, I always would go out on the roof. I would sit there and stare at the window of my next door neighbor's room. I didn't know his name, but sometimes I would see his shadow behind the blue curtains at nighttime. I could make out the silhouette of a tall lanky body and a big head full of curls. I liked to watch him, watch the way he sometimes would slightly open the curtain and peek outside. But I was always hidden by the shadows. The shadows were really the only friend I had.
And then one time, he left his curtains open. I had just got home from school and finished my homework, so I decided to go on the roof. I wasn't a big roof. Just a small piece of wood sticking out right below the windowsill. The curly headed boy had one too, right next to mine.
So I went out on the roof, clad in a white V-neck t shirt and blue skinny jeans, and no shoes. The air was quiet except for the occasional cricket. I could smell freshly mowed grass and the sweet scent of spring. It was so warm outside.
I glanced at the boy's window, surprised to see his curtains wide open, revealing a small room that was completely neat. There were band posters covering the light blue walls, and a twin sized bed in the corner. The posters had bands like Sleeping With Sirens and My Chemical Romance, two of my favorite bands ever. I smiled to myself, although the feeling was a bit unfamiliar. And then I saw his white door opening on the other side of the room, and I scurried back inside. But then I peeked my head up over my windowsill, watching as the boy walked into his room. He had earbuds in, bobbing his head to the music playing in his ears. His hair was chocolate brown, framing a pale face and a pair of dark pink lips. I could barely see his eyes, so I couldn't guess the color. He had a thin waist and a long body, but long legs also. Wow, he's tall, I thought. He was slightly slouched, a concentrated look playing on his face. He was attractive. Very attractive.
After he finally shut his curtains, I went to bed that night with him on my mind. It was weird, thinking about something other than ending my life, or about the bruises and scars lining my arms.
***
Walking into school always caused my heart to race. I felt like there was somebody watching my every move, waiting for me to screw up. For some reason, when I entered senior year, I expected to be treated with some respect, but nothing change. There were even freshman that nudged me and whispered mean words, shoving me against the walls. I wouldn't push back, because they didn't deserve for me to fight back.
But this time was different. When I walked into school, my eyes immediately noticed him. The familiar tall figure with brown curls. He was standing in the corner, his arms wrapped around a textbook. He had a Rolling Stones t shirt on, and it looked quite nice on him. I admired him from afar, not even noticing when somebody pushed me out of the way. I just stood there as people zoomed past me, waiting for the boy to move, to say something. But he sat there, staring blankly. And that was when I realized he was staring at me.
I locked eyes with him, finally able to see that his were a sparkling shade of green. He looked back at me with such deep intensity it made my hands shake. We stood there, staring at each other, and it gave me time to examine his face. Although the color, his eyes were dull and filled with pain. There were slight bags under them, which I could see clearly on his pale, pale skin.
And the ways his lips were turned down into this permanent frown, just like mine. But then they opened, and I watched him speak to me. I could hear him clearly as the hallway was now empty except for the occasional student walking by.
"What do you want?" He asked, not breaking eye contact with me.
"I dunno," I mumbled, my cheeks burning. But what I really wanted was to know him. The look on his face reminded me so much of myself, of the depression that followed me throughout the dreaded days here.
He took a step closer and I backed up. He raised his eyebrow in confusion and I shook my head. He smirked and began to walk more towards me as I backed into the wall.
"What's your name?" His raspy voice sent chills through my body.
"Louis." I took a deep breath and stared at the ground, waiting for him to do something.
"I'm Harry," He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. There was still a large distance between us as we stood there awkwardly, staring each other down. I couldn't read his face anymore. Right when he noticed me, he seemed to erase all the sadness from his face.
"I'm your next door neighbor," I blurted, licking my lips quickly.
"I know," He said, a smirk playing on his full lips. I couldn't help but stare at them and wonder what it was like to have mine on them.
But part of me felt like this was some joke. Nobody had ever spoken to me in forever, unless they were insulting me.
I didn't understand why they hated me so much. I was gay. That wasn't an insult. That was a way of life, who I liked. For some reason, girls didn't make me feel the way guys did. Especially this boy right here, who's mysterious demeanor filled me with so many questions, yet so much confusion.
"How?" I asked warily.
"I've seen you walk out of your house, Louis."
"Oh," I nodded, my cheeks burning. Then I felt someone gripping my arm, and I whipped around to face them.
"Get your hands off of me!" I screamed, ripping my arm away. Their fingertips left a burning trail on my bruises.
"Don't speak to me like that Mr. Tomlinson." I took a deep breath through my nose and looked up at my principal. Why was it that everyone was taller than me?
"Sorry," I muttered, rubbing my arm.
"You boys need to get to class," He instructed, writing a note for each of us to give to our teachers. Then he sent me one final stern look and walked away.
I was just about to walk to class when I heard Harry's voice behind me.
"Do you always do that?" He wondered.
"What?" I snapped, suddenly irritated.
"When somebody touches you. Do you always freak out like that?" I turned to glare at him, stalking towards him. He didn't flinch, just stared at me as I poked him in the chest.
"Shut up." I told him, anger and embarrassment filling my voice.
"Why?" He asked, softly grabbing my wrist.
I didn't answer, just pulled my wrist away and sprinted towards class.
***
The walk home was actually quite nice. All I thought about was the thunder echoing through skies, because it distracted me from my thoughts. I could almost smell the rain in the air, like metal. My teacher said it was going to storm really bad tonight, and another said that there might be a tornado.
I couldn't hear anything as I entered my house after school. I walked into the kitchen to get a drink when I saw my mum sitting at the table, her head in her hands. The old part of me, the one that actually cared, wanted to go up to her. I could hear the sounds of her whimpering as she cried, her elbows resting on top of the old wooden surface. I swallowed thickly as I silently pulled a glass out of the cupboard, sadness over taking my senses. I filled my cup with water and my mum ignored the noise, just kept her head down. I could barely down the water because of the ache in my chest and the overwhelming feeling to cry. I blinked my eyes quickly and took a few sips but I could barely breathe. I spit out the water and let out a choking noise, slamming the glass on the counter. I finally let the tears flow, staring at my mum who finally looked up.
The disappointment, sadness, and regret that filled her face worsened the churning of my stomach as I cried harder. Her eyes that looked so much like mine were rimmed red and her skin was streaked with drying tears.
"Why do you hate me so much?" My voice cracked as I stood there, glaring at her.
She shook her head, taking in a deep breath.
"Just go," She whispered, waving her hand in dismissal. I squeezed my eyes together as I bit my lip, trying to stop crying. With one shaky breath, I ran upstairs and to my bedroom. The soft mattress under me wasn't comforting on my aching body.
Go to the roof, I told myself, and that's what I did.
I ran to my window sill and pulled my window open with trembling hands. The cool air hit my stinging face, and I welcomed it. My hair was in my eyes but I didn't care.
I finally sat criss cross on the roof, staring at Harry's window. The usually relieving air still felt suffocating. I felt no better as I let out choked sobs and wiped under my nose and eyes, but my vision was still blurred.
I jumped as the window I was staring at open with a jerk, and Harry's head peeked out. I scooted back, covering my face in my hands.
"Louis, what's wrong?" His voice was soft, so much unlike how it was at school. I shook my head, ignoring him and failing desperately at hiding my face.
"Go away!" I yelled way too loud, cringing at my voice echoing through the air. And as if right on timing, another boom of thunder sounded through the skies, shaking the house slightly and making me flinch.
"No." He said simply, sticking his leg out his window. I could see a pair of brown boots, which I almost smiled at.
"Please leave me alone," I begged, sniffing loudly.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I widened my eyes, finally looking up at him.
"No." I stated.
***
It went on like that for many of days. Just because Harry was there didn't mean I wasn't going to stop going on the roof. But he was always there, almost as if he was waiting for me. I would sit in the same position as always and he would follow suit, his moods always matching mine as he waited for me to talk. The first time I completely ignored him. I stared past him at his room, which looked the same. The silence wasn't even awkward, not tense. We were both thinking.
The second day he tried to make small talk with me. We talked about the weather, about our grades and what we want to do when we get older But then he brought up families.
"I can't do this," I had said, and crawled back into my room as Harry gazed at me with a curious look on his face.
The third day he talked about himself. I learned about his family, how his dad left him when he was younger and now his mum was remarrying someone he really hated.
He talked about how his sister Gemma killed herself. I didn't know what to say. The pain that filled his eyes was unbearable. It caused me to hurt even more. But he told me all about it, how much he missed her. And I just listened. I stared at him intently as he spoke about her with such emotion it made me cry. Harry was so surprised that I was crying.
"Why are you crying?" He asked me, and I just wiped my tears away and gave him a weak smile. And for some reason, that smile made him understand. He smiled back, letting the tears fall down his face. And for some reason, my hand was itching to reach out to him across the small distance between us, over the space separating both of our roofs.
But instead I just showed him that I understood what that kind of pain felt like. He knew I did.
I think it was on the fourth day that I cracked. We were talking about school. He wasn't even ashamed when he told me he was gay. When he told me that, my heart couldn't help but beat a little bit faster.
"I'm gay too," I whispered, and he grinned.
"I know," he said. Then he asked me about how my family accepted it,
"They didn't." I tried to block all my emotions then, but I couldn't. I licked my lips and furrowed my brows, willing myself not to cry. But then the tearing in my chest became too much and I began to cry.
Harry stared at me with so much sympathy and understanding that it almost hurt. He let me explain through my embarrassing sobs and sniffles what happened with my mum. How when she found out she started screaming at me, and then she...
She lifted up her shirt.
I was so disappointed in her then. So horrified and violated. It was so wrong. She was crying, begging me to like girls. And when she flashed me, I looked away quickly while she screamed, "Don't you find those attractive!? Don't those turn you on?" And I choked on my sobs, wanting her to stop.
"Please stop," I whimpered, but she kept shouting things that made me want to end it right there.
I'm so glad my sisters weren't home when I screamed at the top of my lungs, not caring that the whole world could hear. The tears were overtaking my vision and all I could see was my mum shaking her head at me as I screamed and screamed, wanting it all to end, wanting the picture in my mind to be erased forever.
Harry was sobbing with me when I told him this, his green eyes shining and wet. And then he crossed the invisible barrier. He stood up and leaped across the roof, wrapping his arms around me. It was the first time he touched me, and it was unbelievably perfect. The chills that went through my body and the burning of his fingertips, the feeling of his warm breath on my neck.
It was all so perfect.
***
Day five was one of the best. For once, we weren't sitting the same. Harry was sitting criss cross, and I had my knees pulled to my chest. He was wearing blue plaid pajama pants and a plain white t shirt, his hair in an unruly, curly mess. I still had my skinny jeans on from earlier today, the bottoms rolled up. The wind was blowing through the trees surrounding our houses and I could just see the moon peeking through and shining on both of us. I stared at Harry's pale face and for the millionth time thought of how beautiful he was.
We didn't get all deep like yesterday. Instead, we chose to talk about happy things. I told him about my favorite bands and music, and we both grinned when we realized how similar our music taste was. Then we talked about stupid things like things on the Internet and sports. He was surprised when he found out I liked football. I was shocked when he told me he loved to sing.
"Let me hear something," I urged, pulling my knees tighter to my chest.
He looked unsure, but then took a deep breath and opened his mouth.
I immediately recognized the song. It was called I Don't Love You, by My Chemical Romance. My favorite song, and he knew it.
I smiled massively, listening to his voice. It was so beautiful, so clear yet raspy. He closed his eyes and sang, his curls bouncing as he moved his head. I stared at his perfect lips and watched how they formed the words. The sadness that used to overtake me suddenly didn't seem so sad anymore as I listened to him sing. His voice was soothing, and part of me wanted to record it and play it when I couldn't sleep at night.
He didn't start the second verse, instead closed his mouth and gazed at me warily.
"That was so beautiful," I said truthfully.
"Thank you," He grinned sheepishly, his cheeks reddening.
"You're welcome," I giggled.
***
"I brought beverages," Harry chuckled as I watched him climb out of his window. We met here every night now, because night was more fun.
"What kind of beverage?" I questioned, wringing my fingers together.
"Beer," Harry whispered, and I gasped.
"Oh Harry, you're such a rebel," I teased, holding back a giggle.
"I know," Harry smiled. I gazed adoringly at him as he sat down on the roof, handing me a beer. I didn't even feel guilty as I popped open the tab and reached my arm out to Harry. He had opened his too, and he clinked his can with mine.
"To you," Harry said, making me stop short in drinking my beer.
"To you," I argued, narrowing my eyes and taking a drink before he could protest.
"Ugh," he sighed, "You ruined it!"
"Sorry," I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.
"Louis, can the next one be to you?" Harry whined, and I hesitantly nodded.
"To you," He grinned, slamming his beer against mine and spilling the liquid all over us.
"Harry!" I burst into a fit of giggles and I stood up on the roof, shaking my clothes around. But then my foot slipped on the gutter, and I tripped with a small shout.
"Harry!" I called, reaching my hands out desperately. A week ago, I don't think I would've even protested when I was about to fall.
But then Harry's arms were around me, pulling me to his side and getting my feet safely on it.
"Thank you so much," I breathed, throwing my arms around Harry's neck as I realized that there were a few tears in my eyes.
"No problem," Harry assured, hugging me back tighter.
"I owe you," I rushed, not wanting to let him go.
"Kiss me then," Harry stated, and the words sent shivers down my spine.
"Okay," I whispered, and then his lips were on mine, warm and soft and perfect. I could feel the wind blowing on our faces as I straddled Harry's hips, pulling him impossibly closer. The kiss was unlike anything I've ever felt before. I'd never kissed anybody before, and I didn't think it would ever happen.
But the goose bumps running down my body proved me wrong and I kissed Harry harder, gripping his hair in my hands. The bare skin of my ankles brushed his feet, and the burning feel of skin on skin made me jump.
I didn't mind though, because for once, I wasn't lonely.
***
I thought after that day, that everything would be okay. Because it was just so perfect, everything about him. My hands always found themselves resting in his soft curls, stroking softly. And he would always kiss me and tell me how beautiful I was, although I didn't believe it, not yet.
We didn't get to see each other much at school, due to the grade difference. I would sometimes pass him in the hallways and try not to stare at him, but it was quite difficult. I didn't really understand how nobody noticed such an abnormally perfect creature, with a pale face and dark pink lips.
The thing was, everything wasn't okay. I still got mean comments sneered into my ear, and the bruises wouldn't go away, instead new ones would appear.
I was about to go home, my backpack hanging loosely on one shoulder. Due to the warm weather I was wearing shorts up to my knees and a white V-neck shirt.
I thought it was going to be one of those good days, where I could just stroll home without a care in my mind, the presence of my bullies forgotten.
But I was quickly proven wrong when my classmate by the name of Caleb shoved me against my locker. I looked around to see if he had any helpers, but my vision blurred when I felt a large punch to my eye.
"You're so gay Tomlinson," Caleb sneered, shaking his hand to relieve his probably bruising knuckles. I didn't feel any sympathy for him; just hate and sadness. Little pictures flashed in my mind of times when we were friends in elementary school. I remember thinking how cute he was, but then being confused about the oddness of my choice of gender.
And now, staring at his hateful face, I couldn't find any part attractive. Every time I tried to think of an attractive person, Harry's face came into mind. His kind smile and simple demeanor, his gorgeous green eyes and soft lips. They were attractive.
"Leave me alone, please," I said quietly, ignoring the throbbing of my eye. It wasn't an unusual sensation, the pain coursing through my body. That's probably why I didn't flinch when he punched me in the stomach, just stood there and took it.
I wouldn't say it was "manly" of me to do so. I just sort of gave up. The sharp pain in between my legs when he kneed me wasn't comfortable, but I couldn't seem to move. Caleb looked a bit irritated, his eyebrows furrowed as he threw punches and kicks at me. All I could do was stare at his eyes, the ones that have filled with so much anger and resentment over the years. It amazed me, really. That some people could just be so mean.
The only thing that provided me reassurance was the fact that some people could be truly beautiful. And as one more hit to the head knocked me to the ground in a blur of colors and a few stray tears, the only thing running through my mind was harryharryharry.
***
The searing ache in my forehead wasn't what woke me; in fact it just gave me a reason to fall back asleep. What woke me was the presence of something heavy weighing on my chest. I yawned quietly and placed my fingertips on the point of pain on my head, feeling a gauzy surface underneath.
Where was I?
I blinked quickly and gazed around the room that smelt of a familiar scent, I just couldn't place it with my tired mind. I reached my hand out towards the weight on my torso, feeling something soft brush my skin.
And then the tickling of my fingertips suddenly all made sense. I remembered that feeling, and the smell was finally recognizable.
Harry.
"Harry," I whispered, brushing my fingers across the soft skin on his cheeks. His eyes fluttered open, and I watched the way his delicate eyelashes brushed his skin so beautifully. The curves of his cheekbones seemed so flawless, and I couldn't help but reach out and touch the bones that were raised slightly on his face.
"Lou, what're you doing?" Harry chuckled a hoarse laugh, reminding me of the morning voice I loved so much.
"Nothing," I smiled softly, wincing a bit as I felt the tender stinging of my eye. I sighed when he raised himself off of me, breathing deeply through his nose.
"Are you okay?" I couldn't help but grin at the marks of my shirt wrinkling against his skin on his left cheek. They were red and made it look like he was blushing.
"What are you smiling about?" Harry giggled, forgetting his question earlier. I honestly didn't know if I was truly okay. I did know that I was tired of the constant cycle: being beaten up at school and then coming home to emotional abuse. The only joyous part of my day was sitting on the roof and talking to Harry.
And even then it wasn't perfect. Sometimes we would talk about sad things, and Harry wouldn't always be enough to comfort me, to pull me out of those hard times. The sadness would overtake me and take over my thoughts, my being. I could vaguely remember when I was in that state, and Harry would pull my struggling form into his long arms, rocking me back and forth. I couldn't feel the warmth of his soft skin, I would just stare at his tattoos until they blended together like wet paint.
The constant rocking was so soothing, that sometimes even when I was alone I found myself needing it, the comfort of moving in a rhythmic pattern. So at night when me and Harry were in different beds, I would pull my knees to my chest and rock and rock, listening to the slight squeak of my bed as the weight pressed on the mattress. It was relaxing, that squeaking. But it wasn't as relaxing as Harry's arms. The warmth and love that seeped into me when he held me wasn't there when I tried to hold myself.
There was only tears, tears that left the saline taste of salt on my tongue.
"I'm not smiling about anything," I lied, directing my eyes away from the marks on his lovely face.
"Let me see your eye," Harry gasped, suddenly noticing my probably purpling eye. I slowly ran my fingertips over the tender skin of my eye before revealing it, avoiding Harry's worried gaze.
I flinched as he touched his cold fingers to my skin, his warm breath on my face. His lips were so close, so unbearably close. My mouth was itching to be on his, to feel that spark of electricity shoot through my body.
"You need ice," Harry informed me, knees popping as he slowly stood up. I looked around the room and realized that we were in his room, surrounded by posters and the comforting smell of him.
But that was before I registered the fact that I was laying on his bed, the bed that he slept in every night with probably only boxers on. Hotness crept up my cheeks and I bit my lip to keep from smiling as Harry left the room. I turned my head to see the window to Harry's roof. So that was the barrier that separated us when we didn't know each other.
Harry finally came back with a bag of ice in his large hand, and I watched his long legs as he strides towards the bed.
"How did you find me?" I questioned as he gently placed a towel over my eye and then the ice pack on top of it.
"Well, I tried calling you because you weren't on the roof like you usually are. You didn't answer so I just assumed you stayed after school for something. But like after an hour I got worried so I drove to school and found you laying on the ground." I grimaced as I flashed back to when I blacked out.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"You don't need to thank me," the corners of Harry's mouth lifted slightly as he stared into my eyes, taking the ice pack off my eye. I probably looked hideous, but he was still staring at me with a soft smile on his lips.
I felt my breath catch when he cupped my cheeks with his hands, his cold rings brushing over my skin and making me shiver.
"Thank you," I teased as his lips neared dangerously close to my face. And then they were on mine, warm and soft and so perfect. I moved my mouth softly against his, giggling as I felt his tongue brush over my lips.
***
I shouldn't have expected to live in that peaceful, ignorant bliss forever. I knew that right when I stepped outside the comforting walls of Harry's house, I would be greeted with the many horrors of my everyday life.
One of those included coming back home. I knew my mum didn't really like me, but she probably was wondering where I was.
"I should get going home," I said quietly after a minute of sitting in comfortable silence with Harry.
"Okay," he frowned, playing with a thread on his sheets. I had been sitting up in bed for a while now, because Harry said it would be good for me. It didn't make much sense, but I listened nonetheless.
I didn't want to leave, and I don't really think Harry wanted me to either. So instead we both moved slightly, then relaxed back down on the back.
"I'm scared to go home, Harry," I whispered, scooting closer to his still body on the mattress. He smiled slightly, also moving closer until our thighs were touching.
"You don't have to," he mumbled, looking up at me through heavy lids. I checked the time on the clock; 12:00.
"What do you mean? I have to go home." I raised my eyebrows at him, nudging my knee into his.
"You can maybe stay here," Harry said sheepishly, nudging me back. I felt a flutter in my heart as I looked at his shy little smile.
"Okay," I grinned, letting the redness of my blush dust my cheeks.
I didn't bother texting my mum. I figured that after all the trouble she's made me go through, she deserved it.
Or maybe I was just making myself think that. Because deep down, I knew. I knew that she wanted me gone, and she didn't care about me at all.
"You can borrow some of my clothes," Harry said slowly, gazing at me warily.
"Y-yeah of course," I stuttered. It bothered me quite a bit how awkward we were being, as we were usually completely comfortable with each other.
It's not awkward, it's cute.
I giggled to myself as I let the thought cross my mind, and Harry looked at me with a confused smile on his face.
"Can you please tell me what you're thinking?" he begged. "You keep like smiling to yourself and I have no idea why?" The whininess in his tone made me chuckle.
"Awe, nothing Harold. Mind your own business!" I scolded, poking his shoulder. He rolled his eyes and stood up off the bed, straightening his shirt over the sliver of skin that was showing. I tried not to show my disappointment, instead watched his small little bum as he walked towards his dresser.
Being with Harry made me feel so much lighter, like I was floating. I could block out the depressing thoughts for a few seconds and bring out the fun attitude I used to always have when I was younger. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and the sensation of that is so unfamiliar.
"Here Lou." I looked up to see Harry grinning like a Cheshire cat, breaking me from my thoughts.
I've never noticed how pretty is teeth are.
I grabbed the clothes from his hands, trying to hide my excitement. Instead, I bit my lip and thanked him, holding in my little jumps of joy.
Maybe I was overreacting, but I loved the thought of wearing Harry's clothes. I've smelled him quite a bit, but not constantly. Just the smell brought me comfort.
"The showers over there," Harry cleared his throat, pointing towards a door on the other side of his room. "The towels are in the closet in the bathroom, and you can use whatever."
"Thanks," I gave him a quick smile before rushing towards the door, grasping Harry's clothes tightly in my hand.
The moment I shut the door, I let out a large breath I had been holding the whole time, then shoved Harry's clothes against my face.
"HE SMELLS SO GOOD!" I squealed into the fabric, breathing deeply. I was acting like a love-struck schoolgirl, but I could care less. When I had finally calmed down, I placed the clothes on the sink, careful to avoid any water. Then I turned the knob on the shower with a small squeak, flinching as I felt a bit of cold water sprinkle of my arm. Once the water was warm, I stripped off all clothes and stepped onto the white shower floor.
The hot water spraying on my bare back felt utterly amazing. I closed my eyes and hugged my arms around myself, the feeling of holding myself quite familiar. I felt bad for wasting their water by just sitting there, but it felt so good. I finally opened my eyes and squirted some shampoo on my palm, rubbing it into my greasy hair. I sighed as I felt the soap run past my face and down my body, washing down the drain.
And then, as I continued to wash myself, I let my thoughts wander into more important topics then the hot water.
Harry.
Harry made me feel so happy. I had never laughed so much, never wanted to be with someone all the time. Just his smell made me giddy, and that itself proves that maybe Harry's different. I couldn't help but flash back to all the times where he held me. Those were my favorite.
"Louis? You okay in there?" I heard a small knock on the door, making me jump.
"Yeah," I called, just his voice bringing a foolish grin to my face.
After I had fully cleansed myself, I shut the shower off and grabbed a big fluffy towel, wrapping it around my wet body. I rubbed off every single water drop. It was an annoying habit I had to be completely dry before I got dressed.
Finally, I grabbed the clothes off the sink. I pulled out a pair of boxers from between the trousers and shirt, giggling at the bananas covering the fabric.
"Nice briefs," I called out, before I lost the courage to say it.
I heard Harry burst into a fit of laughter, and was pleasantly surprised when I realized he was quite close to the door.
"I meant to pick those," Harry said, still giggling.
I rolled my eyes at his childish behavior before sliding them over my legs. Then I smiled softly when I realized he gave me my favorite things to sleep with: soft, plaid pajama pants. Then I realized with a slight catch in my breath that they were the same ones Harry wore the night he sang to me. I giggled and put them on along with a plain white shirt.
I looked at myself in the foggy mirror, gently wiping my fingers over the moisture until I could see myself. All of the clothes were quite baggy on me, and for some reason I felt a tremor in my heart. Harry was so much taller than me.
And I loved it.
***
I stepped out of the bathroom, blinking a bit at the fresh cool air that hit me in the face. Harry looked at me for a bit, and there was something on his face that I couldn't read. Then he pulled me in for a tight hug, catching me off guard. I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him back.
"I'm gonna take a shower now," Harry muttered into my ear, then scurried into the restroom.
"Okay," I whispered after him.
When the shower turned on, I began to circle around the room, running my fingers over every few objects. The thing that struck my curiosity was the fact that there were no pictures.
Although, that was a bit hypocritical, because I didn't have any either. I had some of my sisters, but one day when I came home from school they were gone.
Then, I came across something on his desk, under his lamp. It was a brown leather book, held together by a worn clasp. I hesitantly pulled it out, running my fingertips over the words written in sharpie over the soft leather. There were sloppy black stars in the corner, but I couldn't read the letters scrawled across the front.
With a nervous glance towards the door, I carefully opened up the journal, exposing tattered pages. Just as I was about to read the words, I heard the shower shut off.
"Crap," I mumbled, fumbling with the clasp as I struggled to close the book. Right as I slipped it under the lamp I heard the door open.
"What're you doing Lou?" Harry asked curiously, and I whipped around to face him. There was a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets sliding down his bare chest. I licked my lips as I stared at his shining chest, momentarily forgetting about the fact that I might've been caught.
"Uh. Nothing. I-" I stuttered, casually swinging my arms as I stepped towards him. He raised his eyebrows and stepped back, breaking my heart for a second.
"Were, were you looking at my journal?"
***
"I-I'm sorry, I was just curious, I-" I stuttered, backing up into his desk. The force caused everything to fall over on his desk, and I scrambled to pick it up.
"Are you scared of me or something?" I heard him say behind me, and I froze. It did seem like that, as I was just backing away from him.
"No," I squeaked.
But the truth was that part of me was actually scared. I was so used to being punished for everything I did. When I dropped a plate on the floor, my mum would scream at me and make me pick up the broken pieces with my bare hands, not caring when my skin would bleed.
At school, if I so much as looked at somebody wrong, I would get beaten until I was on the floor, crying and begging for them to leave me alone.
So yeah, I was scared. My inner instincts just told me to hide away, to shield myself from the pain that I thought would always come if I messed up.
But the thing I feared more was being left alone again, how I was before I started talking to Harry. I used to be completely utterly alone, except for the company of the fresh air out on the roof and my own shadow.
I flinched as I felt a warm hand on my arm, bringing me back to reality.
"Why are you scared?" His voice was soft, unlike earlier when he caught me looking at his journal. And then as he glanced at my black eye, realization washed over his features. I watched as bit his lip and finally decided to take his hand off of me.
"You don't have to be scared of me." I jumped as he snatched his journal off the desk behind me, clutching it tightly to his chest.
"Just please don't look at this," he muttered, before striding out of the room.
"So you are going to leave me," I whispered after him, realizing that he was wrong when he said I had nothing to be afraid of.
***
I didn't wait for Harry to come back; I didn't even know where he was. Instead, I grabbed my backpack that he had carried home for me and put the straps on my shoulders, then pushed open his window. With one more glance at Harry's room, I stepped out onto his roof, the side of my house coming into view.
And just as I disappeared into my room, I could see Harry in his doorway, holding two cups of coffee in his hand, staring at me with a confused and upset look on his face. I bit my lip and tried not to cry, snapping the window shut and diving onto my bed.
I couldn't handle this. Loving somebody came along with a huge catch; losing them. I was too fragile for that, we both knew that. So I needed to leave before I fell in love with him.
I had to.
"Where were you?" I scrunched into a tighter ball when I heard my door slam open.
"At school," I lied, peeking at the clock from under my pillow and realizing it was 1:00 in the morning.
"Really? Until this late? It's funny, I don't believe that Louis."
It was weird to hear my mum's voice say my name, the last time she said it was...
I didn't know.
"I was at a friend's okay?!" I shouted, trying my best to control my breathing and not let the tears overtake me. But I wasn't strong enough. I could already feel the hot, stinging tears rolling down my face and leaving a burning path behind them. My mum noticed my labored breaths and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes.
"You're pathetic," She spat, making me cry harder. And with one more door slam, she was gone.
Just like everybody else.
***
I was never, ever motivated to go to school in the morning, but today it was just impossible. My body didn't listen to me; it was numb.
So at 6:00, when my annoying alarm clock screeched into the stale air of my room, I slammed my palm on it so hard that it broke in half. I ignored the pain shooting up my hand and burrowed deeper into the safety of my blankets, which didn't smell that nice. My mum didn't do my laundry. The only time I could wash my things was when she was at work and I had enough time before she got home, which was very rarely.
I could hear the bustling of my little sisters getting ready for school, their loud high pitched voices babbling down the hallway and into my ears. I used to love listening to those voices as they told me all about their stories from school, but they didn't speak to me anymore. So now, the squeals and words just made my heart hurt.
I then gazed out my window and into Harry's, surprised to see his curtains wide open. They usually were completely shut, as if they were stapled together.
I furrowed my brows as I searched for signs of any movement, and finally saw Harry getting out of bed and stretching. His shirt was off, and I tried my best not to drool as I stared at his back muscles.
"Harry," I whispered, tugging my lip between my teeth. And it was if he could hear me right then, because he whipped around and his eyes immediately landed on me. I was currently surrounded in blankets except for my head, which was poking out.
I scurried to hide under the covers as he made very intense eye contact with me, already feeling self-conscious. But then I froze as he held up a finger, motioning for me to stop. My eyes followed him as he looked around his room, finally coming back with a piece of notebook paper and a red sharpie marker.
Oh god, is this a Taylor Swift music video now? My mind sneered, and I chuckled at my lame joke as Harry scribbled something on the paper.
He eventually pushed the paper up against his window, the red harsh letters spelling out the words I'M SORRY.
I would be lying if I said that my stomach didn't churn and my heart didn't race.
I would also be lying if I said I didn't stare at the tattoos covering his body, contrasting so perfectly with his pale skin.
I threw my covers to the floor, not caring that I was only in my boxers. The floor pounded beneath me as I raced towards my window, shoving it open and hopping across the two roofs like some crazy person in a movie. Harry's eyes widened as he hastily opened his window for me and I dived into his room, and I felt like a ninja.
"Hey," I breathed, scrambling off the floor and brushing myself off dramatically.
"Uhm, hey Lou." There was a small tremor in my heart as I heard his low raspy voice that I already missed so much.
"I should be apologizing, not you." Harry looked a bit confused.
"I was the one snooping through your stuff and everything and I'm sorry I just I'm interested in you and I really wanted to know." I continued, staring down at my hands. That's when I remembered that I was still only in my briefs, which were cut off halfway down my thighs. I embarrassingly crossed my legs, unsuccessfully covering them. Harry chuckled, shaking his head and stepping towards me.
"I'm so sorry for just barging in here, literally, and I look ridiculous. I'm not even good looking so why would you even like me I mean I just," I blabbered on, waving my hands in the air and wanting desperately for Harry to say something, anything.
"It's fine. I wanted you too. And you're not ugly, I think you're beautiful." Harry blushed deeply, the red dusting his pale cheeks so perfectly I just wanted to kiss him.
"Thanks," was all I could say, because he really did render me speechless. My cheeks burned even darker than his, the niceness of his compliment causing me to grin sheepishly and my hands to shake.
"I saw your mum yelling at you," Harry mumbled, twisting the ring on his finger.
My bottom lip began to quiver as I remembered the nightmare that was my life.
"Hey, hey don't cry baby." I froze when I heard the nickname, and so did he.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"It's fine," I grinned, inching towards him so we were almost touching. "I like it."
Harry sighed, obviously relieved that I didn't freak out like I always do.
"Kiss me, baby," I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck. It kind of turned me on how far I had to reach up, how much taller he was than me.
Just staring into his eyes like this made me forget what I was even sad about earlier. I blinked the tears out, holding back a smile as he wrapped his fingers around my waist and pulled my hips against his.
"Okay," he whispered, and I shivered as I felt my bare legs brush his. He was also only in his boxers, and it sent so many dirty thoughts to my mind that I couldn't help but giggle right as he pressed his lips on mine.
I would never get tired of kissing Harry. The chills that went through my body and the rapid beating of my heart; you couldn't beat it. I snaked my hands up into his soft, messy curls and he moaned deeply into my mouth. His lips were so warm and soft and addicting. My legs were shaking as we pulled back for air. Harry pulled me even tighter to him, and I buried my face in his chest. He smelled so, so good. It reminded me that his clothes were still lying on the floor next to my bed.
They weren't coming back over here. They were mine, and only mine.
"So beautiful," Harry whispered into my hair, making me cower deeper into his bare chest, smiling so wide that my cheeks hurt.
But then I was crying, to my own shock. I shuddered as a sob raked through my body, and Harry turned me in his arms so my back was pressed up against one arm and he placed his other under the back of my thighs.
"What're you doing?" I whispered through my tears, trying to hide my face from him. And then I was being lifted into the air, and I desperately flailed my arms until they rested upon his shoulders and my hands locked around his neck. His curls were tickling my fingertips, and it caused me to laugh a bit through my annoying tears.
"C'mere," Harry mumbled in my ear and he pulled us both onto his bed, the mattress squeaking beneath us.
I clutched tightly to Harry as he held me, doing that familiar rocking that I loved. My tears were staining his pillow and I was too upset to be embarrassed. I just needed warmth, warmth that I got neglected for many years from my own family.
And Harry gave it to me, as I clung to him and he gripped my waist gently and buried his face in my neck, kissing it softly.
My old friends used to always rub my back when I was sad, but the truth was, it was so bloody annoying and it just stressed me out. Harry seemed to know that all I need was for somebody to hold me.
"Thank you," I whispered, sniffing loudly.
"You don't need to thank me," Harry repeated, and I could feel his lips turn up against my neck at his own lame joke.
***
"Hey baby, you gotta wake up," I groaned as I felt my shoulder being shook, scooting farther away towards the edge of the bed.
"Leave me alone Harreh," I sighed, scrunching into a tighter ball.
"Louis, we have school!" Harry whined. Then the bed creak as he leaned closer. "I want a good morning kiss." I shivered from the warm breath on my neck.
I craned my neck up as I rolled onto my other side, searching for Harry's lips. I sighed as I felt him press his mouth against mine, giving me that familiar spark that I loved so much.
Then I tasted that awful, bitter taste of morning breath and pulled back with a cringe. "I'm sorry, this is probably disgusting for you," I apologized.
He shook his head. "S'fine. Let's go brush our teeth, yeah?" I nodded, suddenly aware of the tightness in my cheeks from the tear tracks that I knew were still there.
"Sorry for crying on you," I mumbled, blushing a bit.
"Hey, it's okay. I don't care. Everyone cries. And I happen to like holding you," he smirked, and I gave him a small smile as we stepped into the bathroom. I flinched at the cold tile on my bare feet, scurrying towards the rugs by the sink.
"Cold, are you?" Harry chuckled, following behind me and opening up a drawer in the middle of the cabinets. I just nodded slightly.
"Good thing I have a spare toothbrush." I felt goose bumps run up my arm at his closeness. I finally looked up into the mirror and held in a gasp. My eyes were rimmed with red and a bit swollen, and there were dried streaks on my skin. My hair was a frazzled mess. But then my mouth turned into a smile when Harry entered the reflection, his messy curls and crooked smile bringing my spirits up a little.
Harry handed me the light blue toothbrush then squeezed some toothpaste on the bristles, doing a little dance with his feet the whole time.
"What's up happy feet?" I teased, placing a hand on his hip. He froze at my touch, then relaxed immediately and gazed at me affectionately.
"I have to pee." He stated, and I couldn't help myself from bursting into a fit of laughter.
"You're cute," I giggled, placing the head of the toothbrush in my mouth. Harry stared at me-or my mouth I should say- as I ran the bristles across my teeth. He looked.. lustful?
The minty freshness was relieving on the taste of salty tears and overnight breath, and I brushed hastily. Harry watched as I spit into the sink, rinsed, and dried off my mouth.
"Take a picture. It'll last longer," I joked, wiping my hand across my lips as I finally made eye contact with the beautiful person standing in front of me.
I raised my eyebrows as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and before I could protest snapped a picture of me.
"Harry!" I whined, stomping my foot on the rug. He shrugged and let out a little laugh.
"Can I pee now?" I nodded sheepishly and walked backwards out of the bathroom.
***
Part of me wasn't surprised by the string of whispers that surrounded us when we walked into school that morning. I was wearing all Harry's clothes due to the fact I really didn't want to go back home.
The stares I could handle. What made me want to punch something was the disgusted comments tossed our way as we strolled down the hallway, our shoulders brushing occasionally.
"Told you he was gay."
"Can't they just go kill themselves?"
"That's so weird and disgusting."
I was tempted to bury my head in Harry's chest like I had the night before, but that would just make everything worse. So the only comfort I got was Harry's glances at me, as if he was saying It's okay.
But then Caleb passed us. He was alone, and I wasn't that surprised. He didn't seem like the most pleasant person to hang out with. His eyes widened as he noticed Harry and I, before this evil smirk that gave me the chills grew on his face.
"School power couple, huh?" He snickered, and it took everything in me not to throw my books at him.
"Yeah, we are Caleb," I mumbled, shoving my shoulder into him as he passed.
"What did you say to me, fag?" He growled, whipping around. Harry immediately placed his hands on my hips and moved me behind him.
"Don't call him that." Harry's voice was low and had a scary tone that I had never heard before.
"So now you're boyfriends gonna stand up for you?" Caleb sneered, glancing at me behind Harry's body. Harry stepped in the way of me again, so I couldn't see Caleb anymore.
"Go away." I admired his calmness. By now I would be screaming and punching the air.
"Don't tell me what to do." Caleb got up in Harry's face and I immediately him back.
"Will you go away please Caleb? No one wants you here. Why do you have to be such a jerk?" I spit, my hands shaking from anger.
And then Caleb smiled at me and swung at Harry, his hand balled into a fist. I jumped in front of the only person I cared about and blocked it, taking a painful blow to my chest.
"Louis!" Harry shouted worriedly, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to him.
"Get out of here right now. Just go," Harry pulled me towards the classroom as I squirmed in his tight grip.
Caleb was about to confront us again when a teacher stepped in. "What's going on here boys?"
I was tempted to tell her that Caleb was harassing us, but I knew it was a childish thing to do. Harry slowly released his hold on me and I gave him a grateful look before turning to the teacher.
"Nothing. We were just going to class," I lied, glaring at Caleb. He rolled his eyes and stormed off.
"Are you sure your telling all the truth?" The teacher asked suspiciously. I nodded quickly before tugging Harry towards our class that we happened to share together.
"Thank you so much," I whispered in Harry's ear just as the bell rang and I scrambled to my desk in the back of class.
"No problem!" He yelled across class, and the other students looked at us, confused. I chuckled under my breath and began to get my stuff ready for class. The whole lesson was spent sharing secretive glances with Harry and trying not to smile too wide.
***
"Do I have to go home?" I groaned as we strolled out of the awful building that was school.
"I guess you don't have to," Harry murmured, grabbing for my hand. I felt my heart flutter as our fingers intertwined.
"But, we have to meet on the roof," I pointed out. We always went on the roof, sometimes if we had to we would bring our homework and do our lessons in silence, just enjoying each other's company.
"Touché," Harry nodded, swinging our arms back and forth.
"Or," I continued, "We can go somewhere and then meet on the roof." Harry grinned at me and turned us a different direction.
"I know the perfect place," he beamed.
***
"Where are you taking me?" I whined, which only made Harry tug on my arm harder.
"I can't tell you! It's a secret."
"I'm going to find out anyway," I pointed out, and Harry rolled his eyes.
"Stop ruining the fun," Harry scolded, and I sighed dramatically. We walked along in silence, except for my heaving breathing and occasionally groans.
"WE'RE HERE!" Harry grinned, and I looked around.
"Where?" I squeaked, trying my best not to disappoint Harry. I guess it didn't work, because soon Harry was pouting and pointing at a white building.
"What is it?" I huffed, placing my hands on my hips. Harry just kept pointing and I kept staring, and soon we both burst out laughing because of how stupid we were being.
"Come on," Harry started pulling me again.
"So you're still not going to tell me?" I questioned as Harry dragged me behind him.
"You'll find out, now hush." I glared at the back of Harry's head, watching his curls bounce up and down, up and down.
We soon entered the doorway of the large building, and I was extremely confused. It smelled.. really good.
"Why does it smell like cupcakes in here Harry?" I wondered, breathing in the sweet smell.
"Did I not just tell you to hush? Now hush!" It took much self control not to whack the boy in the back of the head.
Finally, my questions were answered as we opened another door into a small room that was glowing with light. It looked and smelled like heaven.
I was a bit confused until I looked at the shelves filled with baked bread and cupcakes, shielded by slanted glass in front of a counter with a cash register and a menu above it.
"Why the heck is there a bakery here?" I said quite loudly, and everybody in there stopped talking. Well actually, there was only 3 boys, all standing behind the counter talking.
The first one that caught my eye was blonde, with large blue eyes and an innocent look on his face. He looked at me suspiciously, and I was surprised he wasn't annoyed with my obvious interruption. I felt Harry squeeze my hand just as the boy's gaze shifted to my left, where Harry was standing. His lips immediately turned up into a toothy smile.
"HARRY!" The way he said the words was a bit funny, and I raised an eyebrow at him as he leaped over the counter and pulled Harry away from me into a large hug. I felt my heart burn with jealousy, although I didn't even know the blonde boy.
"Hey Niall," Harry smiled, hugging him back and then looking over at the counter. "Liam. Zayn." They both gave him big smiles and I just stood there awkwardly, a bit confused.
Harry moved away from Niall and back towards me, and my heart fluttered as he splayed his hand across the small of my back.
"Guys. This is Louis. Louis, this is Niall, Liam, and Zayn," Harry introduced us, pointing at each boy as he went.
"Hi," I said sheepishly, and they all waved back. Except for Niall. He hugged me just as tight as he did Harry, and I blushed and returned it.
"Nice to meet you mate." I smiled softly, backing closer to Harry.
"You look confused," Harry giggled, and I wrapped my arms around myself.
"Yes. I am. Help," I begged, although I could feel a smile tugging at my lips.
"Okay. Sit down first Lou, you're legs are shaking."
You could say I was scared to meet new people. Almost every person I'd ever tried to speak to had hurt me, whether it be physical or mental. Harry happened to be one of those people that proved me wrong, that showed me that some people could be caring and nice and real.
So having to meet 3 new people was a bit overwhelming for me, and I knew Harry could tell. I sat down in my chair, eyeing the other boys cautiously. I jumped when I felt Harry's breath in my ear.
"Trust me. They're nice guys. There's nothing to be afraid of." I nodded slowly, biting my lip as Zayn, Niall, and Liam sat down at the rather large circle table.
"Do you know what this place is?" Niall finally broke the silence, and I shook my head.
"Well. It's actually Harry's grandpa's bakery, but he's not here today. Anyway. Me, Zayn, and Li work here and so does Harry," Niall nodded towards Harry, and I couldn't help but grin at his Irish accent.
"What're you smiling about mate?" Niall questioned, and I chuckled a bit.
"You're accent is just so... cute." It was the only word I could come up with, although I kind of regretted after I saw Harry glaring at Niall. He was jealous.
He didn't need to be. Niall's accent was cute whether I liked him or not.
"Thanks Lou!" I blushed at the nickname as he flashed me a set of crooked teeth.
"Harry's jealous." I jumped a bit at the deep voice coming from beside Niall. I glanced at the tan boy before looking away quickly.
"Shut up Zayn." I grinned when I realized Harry's voice was even deeper.
"You shouldn't be," I said softly, and Harry directed his gaze at me.
"Promise?" He sounded so insecure when he said it that I turned and placed a large kiss on his lips.
"Promise," I smiled against his mouth, and he giggled.
"Oi! We're here!" Niall said, and his voice sounded muffled. I turned my face away from Harry despite his pout when I noticed the door in the front of the bakery.
"Why didn't we go that way Harry?" I asked, pointing at the door.
"I dunno. Just wanted to go through the mysterious 'rest' of this building," Harry murmured, making air quotes.
"What is in this building anyway?" I wondered aloud, and Liam quickly began to answer.
"Well. It supposedly used to be some factory of some sort, but they shut it down because they didn't need it anymore. Nobody really wanted the building, but Harry's grandpa decided, what the hey, I should put a bakery in here!" I bit my lip and looked around thoughtfully.
"Can I have a cookie?" I finally asked, and my heart leaped at Harry's melodic laugh.
"Sure you can baby," he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my body.
So Harry left into the kitchen and I continued to talk to the three boys. Niall was probably the most talkative and fun one, and Liam seemed to be just genuinely nice and caring. Zayn also seemed extremely friendly and deep down I could tell he was a softie.
Just as Zayn was telling me about his girlfriend Perrie, Harry came back with a white bag in his hand.
Zayn stopped talking as Harry sat down beside me and beamed excitedly.
"Open it!" Harry urged, pushing the bag towards me. I blushed and hesitantly pulled open the paper bag, reaching my hand in and pulling out a large cookie.
I felt some crumbs tickling my fingertips as I placed it on the counter and all the other boys leaned in to look at it.
"What, it's just a cooki-" I began, until I really looked at it.
Wil you be my boyfriend? It read in neat, icing letters. It could barely fit even on the huge cookie, but I didn't care. My heart stopped beating as all the other boys whistled and laughed, except for one. Harry.
He was staring at my face, probably gauging my reaction. I met his eyes and gave him a small smile, before catching him off guard and attacking his lips. The other boys cheers grew louder but I just smiled against Harry's soft lips and muttered, "yes," before kissing him once more.
***