The morning air owned a breeze which softly ran down their bare arms, the sun peeking through the soft clouds. Fingers intertwined, it felt all a little too odd to Louis and although he should have been used to the feeling of Harry's hand against his own, he wasn't; it was still new to him.
The institute's field wasn't exactly a romantic place for a morning walk, but it was the most convenient for the both of them, with Harry's job at the place and Janet's constant eye on Louis, and they made it their little tradition to walk in silence, next to each other, hand in hand, at least once every few days.
Although Louis wasn't happy, happy with himself at least, Harry still managed to put a smile on his face every time the dimpled guy crossed his face and maybe that's why he had been clean for so long, his razor sitting at the bottom of his suitcase which remained closed.
"What time do you have your session at?" Harry spoke up above the soft whistles of the leaves coming from the trees and the distant but audible sound of engines on the roads.
Louis let go of Harry's hand and stuck ten fingers up, following by another two and looked down at his feet, still ashamed of the fact that he was different and that he couldn't talk to Harry normally because in his world, he was retarded.
"Twelve?" Harry asked carefully and in response to that, Louis broke out in a small smile, nodding his head softly.
So instead of doing anything else, Harry squeezed Louis' hand in his own and swung it back and forth while the two walked on the small path at the back of the institute.
They both stopped once they reached a small lake which they visited a couple of times over their time spent walking across the back garden of the institute and sat down on a large log, staring right ahead. Louis' legs were spread out in front of him, his size allowing him to do so comfortably, where as Harry had his knees close to his chest, elbows on knees.
"What do you think about dinner?" Harry proposed an idea to Louis and his head never snapped up quicker than in that moment, eyes wide, staring at curly.
When Louis swallowed and looked straight ahead, his gaze locking on his shoes, Harry spoke up again, "You know, at my flat? You could test out my culinary skills," Louis broke into a small smile, "maybe?"
And so when Harry got off the log and sat down on the slightly wet grass just next to Louis' stretched out legs, with his legs crossed and eyes looking like they could belong to a puppy, Louis couldn't find it in himself to deny such a proposition and nodded eagerly.
"Tomorrow, then?" Harry placed his elbow on Louis' leg and propped his chin up on his palm, watching the way Louis breathed and blushed and nodded once again.
The birds sung, leaves rattled and the wind play fought with the branches of the trees, sun shining through the clouds high above, but for Louis and Harry, it was perfect and calm and nice and just perfect.
Standing up, Harry couldn't help but take in a deep breath of the fresh air in which they were surrounded by, the fresh scents of nature like heaven for his lungs.
Harry's hand reached for Louis' own, helping the smaller lad to stand up steadily. And although the action might have seemed a little too cheesy to some, little things like that made them work in sync, or as in sync as two people can be.
Their tip toes were against each other and their eyes were locked on one another's, unsteady breaths leaving both of their chests. Harry's fingers were intertwined with Louis', giving his hands a little squeeze to reassure him for the nth time, because that's just what Louis needed; reassurance of someone being there for him at all times.
And Louis seemed just as nervous as the first time, like he's not done this before. Because being around Harry doesn't ever get any less exciting, just like this moment. His heart struggled against his rib cage when Harry's eyes seemed to get bigger .
They fluttered shut and it was lips against lips, slow motions passing between the two and although Louis wasn't a great kisser, and hadn't done it with anyone else other than Harry, he knew it was something special, specially when Harry's plumb lips could be felt against his own and with that came small smile from curly, creeping its way in to show the satisfaction and cause the butterflies in Louis' stomach to do back flips.
When Louis got back to his room, you couldn't really expect anything less than a smile from him because Harry had been great, Harry didn't seem like he wanted to kill him or befriend him, Harry was Harry and Louis got butterflies at the thought of his dimples, which by the way, were deeper than Niagara Falls, popping up on his cheeks, Harry, Harry, Harry.
Cupid definitely shot a Harry arrow directly into Louis' arse.
He sat on his bed and picked at the covers underneath him, thinking about everything. He felt oddly happy, like the feeling of emptiness from before was slowly being filled up with something, for the first time ever. For the first time ever, he sat on the bed with his back against the wall and legs close to his chest, arms on top of his knees, just breathing, thinking and smiling fondly at every thought containing Harry.
*
"Hi, dear," Anne greeted him by opening the door wide enough for Louis to walk into her office. He waved at her in a form of a greeting and headed straight for the couch, where she always told him to sit; it was like a routine for him.
"Tea?"
Louis nodded his head eagerly because Anne's cuppas were the best and made him feel a little bit better about everything so why not drink some?
While the kettle was boiling the water, Louis looked around the office, only to see that everything was still the same as two days ago and it never seemed to change and he liked that. He liked having these secure therapy sessions with Harry's mum in the office which didn't at all intimidate him anymore.
Before he knew it, Anne handed him a warm cup filled with the delicious beverage and just the feel of the warmth against his fingertips caused his eyes to close for a quick second and sigh quietly to himself.
"I heard you spent your morning with Harry," Anne asked while blowing on the tea before taking a small sip, "Fresh air is always good. Do you enjoy nature?"
"I think it's beautiful," he sighed. Unlike me, was going through his mind.
"I think so too, I especially love the pond at the end of the field," Anne smiled warmly.
They were both used to long pauses in their conversations, Louis not wanting to initiate the topic or conversation at all, and Anne, wanting to let Louis think and breathe and not pressure him into anything; all in its own time.
Small talk was basically what happened during those sessions, Anne asking Louis about the day, how he felt during particular activities, if the dreams he had almost every night back in Doncaster reoccurred at any point, although there was one topic which Anne hardly ever touched upon.
"Louis," she approached, placing her mug down on to the floor below her feet, "When was the last time you self harmed?"
And with that, Louis froze with his cup in his hands, fingertips tightening around the shape of it because he didn't like talking about it; it was his own thing that helped him with the emotional release and it was definitely only his to keep, right? And Anne knew what Louis was thinking because she didn't say anything for a while. It was only about three minutes and maybe 23 seconds later that she spoke up again, Louis' eyes snapping at the sudden sound of her voice, although it was barely above a whisper.
"Louis?"
And Louis couldn't help but bring his closed fists to his eyes and rub them, all to avoid the suddenly intimidating eye contact but he knew he wouldn't get out of this.
"I can't remember, Anne," he signed slowly, "It has been a few weeks though."
At that, Anne couldn't help but smile because just knowing that Louis had managed to stay clean for longer than usual was amazing and the fact that it had been more than a week was beyond her belief; she was so proud of Louis and it all showed in her smile.
"The urge for me to do it isn't as strong," Louis carried on a while later.
"What about your tablets? Have you been taking them?"
Just as Louis was about to answer back, the door to the office opened suddenly and Louis' heart couldn't have been beating faster at the sight of the intruder.
"Harry-" Anne warned in a stern voice.
"I'm just dropping off my papers for the university essay, sorry," Harry walked across the room, all the way to the end and placed what looked like a lot of papers, along with his laptop on the desk, "Hi Louis," he smiled on his way back, leaning forward to embrace Louis into a hug, throwing in a small peck on the cheek, quick enough for Anne not to notice.
"Sorry," Harry laughed and walked out again, waving his hand rapidly.
"Sorry about that nutthead, Lou," Anne apologised with a chuckle, "Have you? Been taking the tablets?"
"I started a few days ago because I stopped for a while," Louis admitted, "But they're almost gone."
"I'll order some more for you when we're done, yeah?" Anne asked, quickly writing a memo in her notepad to remember it for later, "Actually-"
"Would you mind waiting for a couple of minutes and I'll go and do it now?"
"No, of course, go ahead."
She apologised for leaving him and stood up, fixing her gray cardigan. The door opened and closed and Louis grabbed his mug from the floor where he put it down a few moments before, only to realise half of the tea was gone and that it was too cold to drink.
He stood up and poured some water from the kettle, which thankfully was still warm enough and added a small spoonful of sugar, mixing it straight after.
He looked around the room, with hands around his mug, eyes scanning the place once again. His gaze stopped on the pile of papers Harry placed on the desk just mere moments before and walked over to them; Harry never spoke much about his university life, so little that Louis didn't even know what curly had been studying, not that it mattered to Louis.
The stack of papers were right next to a black laptop and Louis traced his fingertips along its' surface. He placed the mug down on the desk and looked at the paper, freezing in the process. His whole body couldn't move and his eyes were glued to the front page of the stack of papers, the eyes the size of two pound coins.
His blood boiled and tears immediately began to fill with stupid tears, stupid, stupid, stupid tears and there could have only been one explanation for everything; Harry used him. That's why he was always so nice to Louis; he knew it from the beginning.
He looked down at the title page again, a lump in his throat making it hard to swallow and his entire body began to shake as he read the words over and over again, trying to make some more sense out of them.
Silent Voices;
Muteness:
Psychological Development and Background Factors
by Harry Styles
Maybe there was a mistake that Louis didn't think of, that was possible, right? He read it twice, three times and after the nth time, he lifted the title page up only to be welcomed by another piece of crap that the selfish lad wrote. Louis' heart was beating even faster than when Harry walked into the room and he wanted to be dead, he got the urge to cut his wrist vertically so that no-one could stitch the wound up, he wanted the world to swallow him whole.
There are many forms of mutism. For convenience, mutism may be divided into that with a presumed biological basis and that which is considered to be psychological. The first type includes mutism which is sometimes associated with profound deafness, serious mental handicap, infantile autism or akinetic mutism.
In this paper, I am planning on focusing on the psychological development of a person, I, myself, have been observing for a period of time, and will continue to explore the background factors which have lead the person to depression, anxiety and other mental disorders.
He couldn't read any more. He knew Harry wrote it about him; Louis was nothing more than an experiment to Harry; a damn essay topic, a part of his university degree. The whole 'let me introduce you to my sister' act was probably a social experiment and damn, Louis couldn't have felt more embarrassed.
Tears were already falling down his cheeks and he couldn't care less at the given moment, only wanting to die. He couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe how foolish he had been. Stupid, foolish and stupid.
His frozen state was interrupted by the door opening and with the sound, Louis' head snapped in its direction.
"Louis, what-"
Louis looked down at his feet and ran out of the room, avoiding eye contact with the one person who made him feel happy, one person who treated him better than others. He ran to his room, locking the door behind him, back against the wooden door, sleeves already rolled up to his elbows, palms searching the floor for anything sharp; he didn't have the strength to look for his blade right now.
He was a damn experiment and now that the oh-so-great Harry was done with his essay, he didn't need Louis anymore; he could disappear into the land of the unknown, stop the pain which suddenly filled his heart and dispense of the thoughts flowing through his mind. That's all he wanted.
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