hey boy, stop pacing 'round the room - UGH
"You're sick?", was the first thing Joahnnah asked when Louis showed up that Monday.
"Dunno... is there some pills for fever here?", he asked.
"You have fever?", his mom put her hand on his forehead, in many ways. "It was that walking in the rain thing, huh?"
Louis removed Joahnnah's hand from his head.
"I don't know... but we have? The pills?"
His mom winced.
"I think we have some in the bathroom under the stairs", she sipped her coffee. "Are you going to school?"
Probably not. Harry was sleeping in his room, with the blanket up to his head, so that if anyone entered the room, he would see the bed very messy. He had fever all night, and Louis spent all night looking at him. His head was still a little dizzy, full of Harry's mom, his grandma and William.
"I don't know."
"You have a credit", his mom said. "William won't be going to school today, so you can stay too. But just because you're sick."
That was almost a song to Louis ears.
He went to the bathroom and got the pills, then back to the kitchen. His dad now was there too, having breakfeast.
"You're sick?", was the firsr thing he asked when he saw Louis.
"It's written on my face or something?"
Mark winced. His parents acted the same.
"Are you going to school?"
"No."
His dad shrugged. Always was like this.
"So wash the dishes."
"He have a fever", said Joahnnah.
"Then wash the dishes when you don't have a fever."
Louis nodded. Wash the dishes didn't really matter.
"Well", his mom said, taking her bag. "I will be home with William at 5. If you want to go to some doctor, call me and I'll get you there", she kissed Louis forehead.
With both parents now out, Louis felt his shoulders light. He was praying that his parents
The parents left the house, and Louis felt the weight coming out of his shoulders. He was terrified of his parents going to his room or something. The good thing was that Harry didn't make much noise - at least sleeping.
Another car stopped in front of the house. Louis ran out when he saw the red Jeep. He had completely forgotten about Liam.
He frowned when he saw Louis in those sweaters and disheveled.
"You're sick?"
Louis snorted, and stood by Liam's window.
"I'm not going to school, Harry's sick"
"So what?"
"Harry's sick in my room," Louis murmured, his mouth locked. He was afraid someone would listen. "His grandma died and he went crazy."
Liam frowned again.
"And William is there?"
"No, he went to visit a college in London with my grandmother."
"Alright," Liam looked forward. It did not even looked like he was sitting; the Jeep seat was too high. "And why did he come here?"
"I don't know," Louis was barefoot, his feet cold on the concrete sidewalk.
Liam chuckled.
"What is it?" Louis scolded.
"Nothing."
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Louis watched Harry asleep in the small bed, wondering how they fit in there. Maybe because Harry was shrunken most of the time (his legs sure filled up a lot of space).
Would ge wake him up? He hadn't checked if he had a fever before he came down, Louis was afraid he would wake up. But even so it would be good to take some medicine, because he had to leave before five o'clock in any case.
"Harry?" Louis called out. He was leaning, pulling the cover of his head. He looked sweaty, pale, and sick. "Harry, wake up, I brought some pills."
Harry opened his eyes and focused on Louis. He was not surprised or anything, he seemed to be waiting for it. Maybe he was already awake.
"For what?" His voice was hoarse. Like, very hoarse. It seemed to tear when he left. Louis wondered if it hurt.
"Fever." Louis handed him the pill, and shoved the glass of water so he swallowed it at once. "You had all night."
Harry swallowed the pill, and laid his head on the pillow after he handed the glass. He had not even drunk a lot of water.
"You're not going to school?"
Jesus, how could he speak with that voice?
"No," Louis set the glass down on the floor beside the bed. He wondered if he should sit or lie down. Would he do what, anyway? Let Harry get hold of what little he had left? Decided to sit down. "My mother thinks I'm sick too."
Harry was silent.
Louis had words stuck in his throats, almost vomiting them. Harry was so crazy. So horrible.
"Do you remember what I told you yesterday?" Louis asked, but looking up. "About your mother?"
There was no answer, and he continued.
"Why you did not tell your mother that you're dating William?"
Louis wanted to clap to himself. He wanted to ask it so much. He wanted so badly to know Harry's answer. It was almost electrifying.
To know more about William's lies... So futile lies.
"I didn't find it necessary."
Louis wanted more.
You have been dating for almost six months!, he wanted to say, but he didn't want Harry to think he was so tuned on this.
"But everyone here knows you, why no one there knows..."
"William invites me," Harry interrupted him, shifted under the covers, stretching his legs. "And I don't invite him."
Louis would reply, but Harry sat on the bed and stretched. He looked away from the scene, it was too much. He got up, and only then did Louis see how he was dressed. He did not pay attention earlier, just wanted Harry to stop crying.
But now...
Louis's pants were too small on him, almost a hand to reach the heels. It was ridiculous.
"Do you have any extra toothbrushes?" Harry asked, already at the bathroom door. Louis averted his eyes from his shins. "I know it's horrible."
"In the cupboard under the sink," Louis said. He ignored the horrible part.
Harry went into the bathroom, and Louis took the time to clean the bed. Where Harry lay was so hot he almost lay there. He looked so comfortable. In fact, with his parents out of the house, Louis felt safe. And Harry was calmer, seemed stable. Louis never saw him like this, gentle. With William he always cursed, shouted rude words and everything.
But the situation was now so strange. What would Harry do now? Was it still bad? Certainly.
When Louis sat on the bed neatly, thinking, the bathroom door opened. Harry had his toothbrush in his mouth, and held out the black phone to Louis.
Louis could not even remember the phone, he must have forgotten it in the bathroom. And now he was shouting in Harry's hand, making the same annoying noise as before.
"What?" Louis said.
Harry stood still, the brush hanging from his mouth, arm outstretched.
"Answer," he growled. It made a strange noise.
Louis shook his head, but Harry threw the phone at him on the edge of the bed.
The phone kept ringing, and Harry stared at him, waiting for him to answer. The word Mother blinked at Louis, and he didn't even know how to deal with it.
"Hello?"
"Hmm. Hi, Louis", Louis recognized the woman's voice on the other end of the line. Now it was drier, but still painful. "Harry already woke up?"
"H-hi," Louis replied. "Yes..."
"Can I talk to him?"
"Of course," he replied, and reached for Harry.
But he denied it, and kept brushing his mouth, looking attentively at everything Louis was talking about.
"He's a little busy now," Louis replied. He knew Harry could answer, he was doing it for humor.
The woman took a deep breath on the other end of the line. Maybe she was struggling not to cry.
"Ah, yes... I know," she paused. "Thank you for being with him and... Louis, are not you going to school? I'm sorry, but how old are you?"
"Seventeen. And I have a little cold, don't worry."
Louis wondered if Harry's mother thought his son was dating someone older, someone who was not in school any more. And it was so strange to think that she didn't know about William... and that she didn't even know anything about it.
"God," the woman spoke again. "I don't know anything about you and you are there, taking care of my son. I will never know how to thank you..."
"It's okay, really," Louis smiled. She looked really grateful.
Harry made a noise and turned around, entering the bathroom.
"Thank you," she repeated. "And my name is Anne. Why have I never knew about you?"
Louis shrugged. Because I never existed?
"I don't know," Louis murmured. "But now you know. It was nice meeting you, Anne."
Anne sighed.
"The pleasure was mine. And Louis, tell Harry that I'm waiting for him. The funeral will be at five, if he wants to go..."
"I warn you," Louis said. "Of course."
And Anne hung up.
The whole feeling of Louis's shame returned. Like he's lying too much... hiding too many things. Having something that was not his.
Harry appeared at the bathroom door, and walked over to the bed. He looked more ridiculous than before in those clothes, but that didn't matter anymore.
Louis cleared his throat.
"Your mother said that the funeral will be at five."
Harry stood still, but tensed. Louis could see his body stiff. He sat down at the other end, facing Louis.
"Your mother wants to talk to you... wants you to go home."
Harry put his feet on the bed, and gathered them close to his body.
"I don't want to go."
The husky voice was still there, torturing Louis.
"Because?"
"I don't know."
"Do you still feel bad?"
"Yes"
"But..."
"She was my father's mother," Harry interrupted. The eyes were lost. "When my parents divorced, she took care of me. She took care of everything when things didn't work out any better," Harry looked at Louis, his eyes red, but he was not crying. "And now she's not here anymore."
Louis sighed.
"I'm so sorry."
Harry swallowed. He looked more dejected. It was as if he was tired of more things than Louis knew. He had no dark circles under his eyes, though his skin was pale and hideous. Even in this state, everything about him made him beautiful. As always.
"I still think you should talk to your mother," Louis said. His eyes were already burning with sleep - he had been staring at Harry for a long time. Yesterday, he did not even notice the time her parents arrived. Nor did they go to see him. Thank God.
"I don't think I'm good enough to leave, and I can't even go," Harry replied. The voice ripped through his throat.
Louis sighed. There was no car to take Harry, and that would never happen. He had never been to Harry's house, he knew where it was because William told once, but he barely knew how to get there.
"I'll figure out a way for you to leave."
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Louis was leaning against the kitchen door, waiting for Liam to answer his phone.
"Hi," he answered.
"Hi," Louis said. "Not in class?"
"I'm in the library," Liam replied. "What's up?"
"Hm, er... When you get out of school, can you take Harry home?"
"Huh?"
"Take Harry home," Louis repeated. In his head the idea sounded good, but asking for it seemed ridiculous. "I can't take him."
Liam mumbled on the other end of the line.
"How am I going to look in his face?"
"Looking," Louis said. "I can look."
"But he will know that I know... about the thing."
Louis paused.
"What you know is not his problem, you're my friend, Liam.
Liam thought a little.
"Fine"
-----------------
Louis left Harry up there alone until noon. He knew that Harry needed to be alone, he needed to put those strange thoughts in order. Joahnnah called and asked if he was okay. He lied, saying he still had a headache. The mother would complain if he was no longer feeling sick. A whole day of lost class...
But it didn't matter.
He wasn't caring about a lot of things this week. Ever since he began to feel strange things... When he didn't cared about his brother anymore. When everything stopped making sense.
Louis was in the kitchen making sandwiches. Was Harry hungry? Louis had not been up for a while. He could not take that whole Harry thing any more. The mourning and the sadness.
Did Harry liked mayonnaise? He looked vegetarian. Or maybe he didn't cared about food.
Louis was making up his mind about it when he recognized the noise. That vibration that made him deaf. He hated that.
Harry was in the kitchen, ridiculous in his sweatpants, stretching the phone to Louis.
"Oh, no," Louis said. He pointed the knife at Harry. "Your mother, your turn."
Harry looked at him. Shaggy hair, red eyes - not crying. Had the fever come back?
"I still don't want to talk to her," voice very, very hoarse.
"But you'll have to talk sometime," Louis said. He was tempted to be cautious. Who knows what Harry could do. Another crying crisis?
But Harry threw the phone down the counter and Louis picked it up.
"Hi, it's Louis."
"Hi, Louis," Anne said. She sighed. "He still won't talk to me?"
Louis put the phone on his shoulder, using both hands to finish the sandwich.
"I don't think he's ready yet," Louis murmured, and placed the other half of the bread.
He went to Harry, standing by the counter, and held out the plate to him. Louis stood there, watching what Harry was going to do.
"I know you're helping him get through this, and I appreciate it," she continued. "But our family needs him, and he needs us too, if you can persuade him to come home..."
Louis nodded. Harry kept looking. He seemed to want to know what they were talking about.
"Before five o'clock he'll be there."
"Thank you, Louis. Thank you."
And she hung up, thanking him more and saying how kind Louis was.
Louis could not like Anne.
"Liam will take you home," Louis said. He pointed to the sandwich. "Eat."
Harry seemed dependent. A slim child.
He looked down, scrutinized the food. The phone vibrated again in Louis's hand, and automatically, he saw the name blinking. It was not a name. It was a letter.
W.
Louis dropped his phone on the counter, and left the kitchen very, very fast. The television was on the channel he had been watching before. He took a deep breath. That was a normal thing. William could call Harry any time he wanted. Because they were boyfriends.
But a second later, Harry appeared in the living room, and sat down next to Louis on the sofa.
He had not answered William, and Louis wondered how long Harry hadn't spoken to him.
What were they all becoming?
Harry ate the sandwich, and stood there, silently, just blowing his nose. Louis didn't bother.
They watched one show after another, side by side. Louis didn't know if the phone rang again - Harry should have left it in the kitchen.
The lessons at Balby Carr (counting the extra activities) would end at 3:00pm, and it was too late for Liam to arrive. Harry started to kick his feet, then turned his face to Louis.
Louis could see him looking at him, and somehow this seemed cool.
"What?" Louis asked. It was not rude or anything, he just asked calmly.
"Thanks for not letting me out," Harry said. He kept looking, and Louis was afraid to stare at him. "You've had a lot of work with me."
Louis took a deep breath. What was he going to say? It was a pleasure to have you here?
"When people need help and we can help, why not? And you helped me on the day of the party at the frat."
Harry was still stamping his foot. And barefoot. Louis's mother would freak out if she saw someone with fever standing on the floor.
He sniffed, and moved his arms. Louis didn't know what he would do until he felt Harry standing next to him, hugging him. He never thought Harry could be so sweet as to ask for hugs, to hug and to cry like a child.
Everything about Harry was falling apart, and he didn't understand who was there with him.
Harry's arms loosened, and he brought his face forward, where Louis's face was. Where their mouths were.
He took a deep breath and slowly felt Harry's mouth. It was warm, soft. He did not know what taste he had, but he liked it. He liked how hot it was, how slow it was.
And he liked the way they kissed. Kind of suddenly, without expecting anything, without caring about anything. As if it were natural... ordinary.
And they continued, until Louis's mouth got hot too. It seemed so right. As in an afternoon they could stay like this, because no one would stand against them. That nobody was going to say something... like it was normal.
Louis was kissing Harry in the living room. Right there where the family gathered to watch television. How would it be if Harry were his...
Louis pulled his face forward, and turned to the television. He took a deep breath and licked his lips.
"Your clothes must be dry already," Louis said. "I'll get them."
He got up and went to the laundry room, behind the kitchen. Louis put Harry's clothes to dry on the machine, and then dried naturally so they wouldn't shrink.
His head was spinning. Like, the more time passed, the more Harry got into his life. More things that could not happen happened.
Louis threw the clothes at Harry, who was still beating his feet. He got up, and without saying anything, went upstairs to Louis's room.
Louis continued in the living room, buzzing. Things were taking place, and when it was going to get darker, it was clear. Louis was screwed.
A Jeep parked on the sidewalk.
Harry was leaving, but not from Louis's life. Not that.
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jonathan van ness' voice: can you believeee?
bonjour, yall.
so. a lot of people was voting and everything and i was like "im so fucking lazy why i dont finish this". there. its here. its a mess. poor louis, such a confused child *sighs*
sorry for my bad english :>
also i'll try to post another chapter later. or next year who knows. (later).