Harry's POV
It was my first proper funeral. When I was 8, my mum dragged me to a funeral for one of my distant relieves (one who'd I never met prior to seeing his glossed over dead body in the open casket) I felt no reason to be there. It was too soon after my dad had left, and my mum had just started to abuse me. I didn't care about him. I don't even remember his name.
But this funeral was different. I felt sick when I pulled on the black suit and tie. Louis had to tie it for me because my fingers were shaking too badly. His fingers grazed against my cheek.
"Hey, are you alright?" Louis asked softly. I nodded vaguely. My hands were still shaking badly. There was a slight knock on the door, and Louis's warm touch left my face.
"Ready?" grunted my step dad in a monotone voice. He eyed us, but his expression was hard to read. I haven't told him about Louis and I. I've always just referred to Louis as a friend. He probably sensed we were a bit more, but he never said anything. I really wasn't planning on ever telling him. I didn't respect him enough.
"Yes, sir," Louis said, smiling tightly. He was the only one smiling. Louis shuffled to the door, sending a glance towards me. I inhaled deeply. Louis hung around by the door for me, while my step dad left for the car. I looked at myself in the full length mirror one more time. My hair was slightly less of a mop, and my suit was pressed and fit me well. I hated it. I hated everything about all of this. I rubbed my eyes to keep myself from crying. Not crying because I was sad. I was just... angry.
"Haz?" Louis muttered to me, leaning against the door frame.
"S-sorry... just, sorry," I answered, trying to look like I wasn't panicking on the inside. I didn't want to go.
Louis sighed, walking over to me. He put his hands on my shoulders, running down my arms gently.
"I know this will be hard for you, there's no need to apologize, okay?" I nodded, looking at the carpeted floor of my room beneath me. "I love you, Harry."
"I love you, too." Louis leaned in and pressed our lips together softly.
He took my hand and walked us to the door of my bedroom. I turned off the light, 4 times, and shut the door 4 times as well. My hands were still shaking. Louis didn't say anything of course, he just took my hand and walked us to the front door, where a slick black car was waiting for us.
*
The white church where the funeral was taking place smelled like mold and Febreze. There were not many people there, and no one was really crying. I felt almost bad about that, and thought that maybe I should be crying, but I didn't. Louis led me in, his hand on the small of my back. I tried my best to not make eye contact with anyone, I just let Louis guide me to the pre-arranged seats we were supposed to be in.
"I don't like this," I said to Louis is a whisper. No one else heard me. I heard Louis sigh lightly, but he didn't make eye contact with me.
"I know you don't, Harry," he replied simply, sitting down on the brown church bench. I followed, sitting down awkwardly. The bench was cold and hard. I didn't like anything about this whole thing. There was a casket in front of the room. I insisted for it to not be an open casket funeral, I wouldn't be able to handle that. I averted my eyes quickly, not wanting to think about my mother's cold, dead corpse that was beneath the black wood.
In front of me, tucked away in a pocket on the bench, was a bible and a few pamphlets. The book was crooked, and the pamphlets were bent. I rearranged them quickly, slipping them back into place carefully. It was hot in the low lit room, making my palms sweaty. I was anxious, almost nervous. I hated everything. I started to tap my fingers, hardly even noticing.
Louis's POV
"26, 27, 28, 29, 30," Harry muttered under his breath, tapping his finger against the wooden bench space between us. I couldn't interfere when he got like this. He looked frustrated. His OCD was having major flares today, probably from stress and anxiety the funeral was causing. Everyone in the church was either standing or sitting, talking in hushed whispers to others around them. Everything was dark and gloomy.
When Harry asked me to come with him to the funeral, of course I came. I had a feeling it would be too much for Harry to handle alone. I was right. I wanted to talk to him, to comfort him or anything, but he wouldn't stop tapping or rearranging or ignoring everyone and everything.
It was as if the whole church had a blanket laid over it, keeping it quiet. I hated funerals.
"50," Harry muttered, leaning back and rubbing his eyes. I put my hand gently on his knee in reassurance. He was beautiful, even when he was anxious.
"I'm sorry," Harry said after a second, sighing.
"What for?" I asked. Harry had tried to apologize for his obsession behavior before, which of course is ridiculous. He can't help any of it.
"For being such a mess all the time," he answered after a beat, looking at me with his big eyes.
I sighed, placing my hand on his cheek. "You aren't a mess, Harry. No one's perfect. I've said and done things I shouldn't have, you know that more than anyone, okay? And besides, this is a difficult thing for anyone to go through.
He opened his mouth, like he was going to say something, when his eyes grey huge. His eyes were fixed a head of him. I looked over my shoulder to where he was staring, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. A few people stood chatting by the side entrances, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Harry took my hand, squeezing it hard and continuing to stare.
"What's wrong Harry?" I asked, looking back to him. He looked so scared, and I didn't understand why.
"That... that man over there, he's... he's my dad," whispered Harry after a long pause, as if someone would hear him. I looked over. There was a man who looked about in his fifty's standing over by an archway. He was looking down at his phone, dressed in a black suit. He looked like business man.
"Are you sure?" I asked, still looking at the man. Harry nodded, his eyes still wide.
"Why would he come here? Why now? I haven't seen him in 10 years," Harry muttered. He scooted away from me slightly, and then slowly stood. "I... I need to g-get away from here for a second," Harry said, his words rushed while he continued to stare at the man. He backed away, before turning and pushing through to the back of the church. I followed close behind, watching as Harry left the building.
It was still cold outside, the air was still sharp with each breath, but it was warming up. Clouds filled the sky, casting a heavy gray shadow over all of England. Harry was leaning against a tree, his eyes closed. I walked over to him.
"I'm sure he doesn't mean any harm by being here Harry-"
"I don't care!" Harry snapped, cutting me off. "If he had any reason to come back for my mother, he shouldn't have done it before she was dead!" Harry yelled, his eyes prickled with tears, but none of them falling. "He left me, Louis. He left me with an unstable and abusive mother and he knew that! He knew it wasn't safe for me. I was only seven. And now this is what I've turned into; a freak." He spit out the last word like poison. I pulled Harry away from the tree and into my arms. I wrapped myself around the younger boy, and waited for him to relax into my embrace, which took him longer than I expected.
"You are not a freak Harry. Never, ever say that about yourself again. Do you hear me? I love you so much. You mean so much to me and I never want you to feel that way. Please... please," I whispered to him, letting him nuzzle himself into me. I held on for a long time. Harry finally nodded slowly.
"O-okay. I love you too Louis. But please, I don't to see him." We continued to hold on to each other.
"We won't, okay Harry. We don't have to talk to him. I'll protect you," I said to him, finally letting go, but missing the warmth. He placed his hand in mine.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
*
When the service finally ended, and Anne was in the ground, my heart felt heavy, like it was weighed down. Harry didn't want to speak at the funeral, leaving one of Anne's coworkers and his stepdad to be the only ones to say something. It was so depressing, even after everything she had done to Harry. She truly was getting better, I could see it when I visited. I could see it in her eyes that she did love her son. But it was too late.
We managed to avoid Harry's dad during the funeral, despite the fact that he had looked at us multiple times. Harry held onto my hand for most of it, not feeling the need to let go, not even in front of his step dad. Not that I minded.
Harry came back to my house after the commotion died down, wanting to give his stepdad some space. I let him wear a pair of my sweatpants and one of my T-shirt's so he wouldn't have to be stuck in that black suit for the rest of the day. We were laying on my bed, Harry snuggled into my chest while I ran my fingers down his arm soothingly.
"Thank you," Harry muttered, breaking the comfortable silence.
"You don't need to thank me for anything, Haz," I replied evenly, still gently tracing his arm.
"No, just... just listen to me for a second, okay?" Harry sat up slightly, looking me in the eyes. "Louis... you saved my life, honestly. I hated myself before we met. I hated school, I hated Zayn and Liam, I hated my looks, I hated everything. You changed that. You made me feel whole. I would probably be dead by now if it weren't for you. I thought I was so worthless. But I don't feel that way anymore. I love you Louis. I love you so much. I know I haven't known you for very long, but I never want to stop knowing you."
My heart sped up. All I could think to do was pull him close to me again and kiss his forehead.
"You are the sappiest person I've ever met," I joked. Harry laughed, hitting my arm lightly.
"I'm serious, Louis." He stopped laughing.
"I know, Harry. I just didn't know what else to say. You are perfect. I wouldn't change a thing about you," I took one of his wrists gently, touching his scars with my thumb. "I love every flaw you have, and I want you to love them too. No, scratch that. They aren't flaws. Your OCD isn't a flaw. Your scars aren't flaws. It's all just a part of who you are. And I love it. Because I love you. I love you Harry Styles, and don't you forget it."
The End
A/N
Wow. It's over. It's actually over. I've been writing this book for over a year, if you didn't know. I just want to take a moment to say some things. I cannot believe this stupid book I started writing for fun has over 200 THOUSAND reads and nearly 10 thousand votes. You guys are unbelievable. Truly, thank you so, so much for everything you've done. I am so thankful for you guys, every single one of you nuggets.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this book, and I hope you'll like the epilogue!