"You never answered my question." Louis said, Harry frowning at him. "Are you alright?"
"Not really." He admitted. "I feel so dirty. It's my fault really."
"What? Are you having a laugh?"
"No, I led him on."
"Harry, it is not your fault that some fucking noncey old man did what he did. You're a literal child. You're underage, he's a creep. And I'm sure you didn't beg for him to do it, so it's not your fault. And even if you did beg for it, if he had done it, he would be in the wrong still."
Harry looked to his hands, shifting uncomfortably. "I told him I didn't want it...but he threatened me. A-and I tried to push him off b-but he was stronger than me."
"We need to tell the police."
"Can't." Harry shook his head, "don't want people to know."
"What if it happens to someone else?"
"I-I don't even know his name."
"Who might?"
"I don't know. My boss might." He mumbled. "But I really don't want anyone to know. It's so embarrassing and people will make fun of me."
"That's a disgusting thing for people to make fun of you for. I know I've been awful, but I'd never go that low. Plus, you won't have to tell him what happened exactly."
"Okay, maybe. Um, can we stop talking about it?"
"Yeah, yeah. Sure. Do you want to sleep in my room?"
"If you don't mind." He looked at him in embarrassment, "'m scared of being on my own."
"I don't mind. Do you want to go upstairs now?"
He nodded, "can I maybe just lie down? I-I just don't wanna think anymore."
"Surely you're still going to think even if you're lying down." Louis looked to him blankly.
"Can you talk to me? I don't care what about I just need a distraction." Harry asked quietly. No doubt Louis would think he's an even bigger weirdo than he already did.
"Course. Let's go and get your bed set up and I'll ramble to you." Louis gave him a smile, holding his hand out to help him up.
"Erm, you don't want to touch me." Harry murmured.
"I don't care. Come on."
Harry reluctantly took his hand, allowing Louis to pull him up. "Aren't your friends going to be horrible to you if you stop you know, bullying me?" He asked quietly.
Louis shrugged, "if they do, what can I do. I'm done with being a prick just so I don't get bullied. I didn't realise how much I was hurting you. And you seem cool."
"But I'm gay..."
"If I'm being honest with you, I don't give a shit. Zayn's been brought up thinking it was wrong and I guess he kind of pushed his views onto me but deep down I don't care. And Stan is just an arsehole."
Harry nodded in agreement as Louis put his head around the kitchen door. "We're going up to my room." He told his mum before walking upstairs, Harry following close behind.
Louis quickly ran off, leaving Harry stood awkwardly on the landing until he returned with the duvet and pillow, duvet covering his view again, of course.
Harry took it from him, putting it down in the corner of his room. Louis tugged out the mattress, placing the pillow down and moving the duvet. "Sit. Or lie, whatever." Louis instructed, falling back onto his bed. "What do you want me to talk to you about?"
"Anything. Just... anything, anything to get my mind off it."
"Ummm, I'm boring as fuck so god knows. I'll just give you shitty facts about myself? Yeah, that'll do. Umm, my name's Louis William Tomlinson, I'm 17, my birthday is on Christmas Eve. Umm, my favourite colour is green, my favourite animal is a frog-"
"A frog?" Harry raised his eyebrows.
"Frogs are cute." Louis retaliated, "don't judge frogs."
"'m not." Harry giggled. "Just thought you'd be more of an eagle person?"
"A fucking eagle? You have got to be having a laugh. What do you think I am?"
"Alright, not an eagle. Maybe a lion, or a hyena?"
"Hyenas are ugly."
A small pout fell into Harry's face, "don't be mean."
"I'm not being mean."
"You are. If the hyenas heard you calling them ugly they'd be sad."
"Like you are?" Louis asked with a furrowed brow.
Harry was immediately silenced as he looked down to his hands.
"You know you're not actually ugly right?"
Harry looked up, frowning. "What?"
"You're not ugly."
"I am...if I wasn't then why does everyone say I am?" Harry asked, genuinely confused.
Louis took a deep breath, letting out a sigh. "Honestly, I don't know. Ever since we started picking on you, there wasn't anything to actually make fun of you for so we made things up. Like, have you looked in a mirror? You're obviously not ugly."
"I am. I just, I am."
"Tell me what you dislike about yourself."
"Don't really wanna."
"Come on."
"I don't know, I just hate my face in general. And I'm too pale and skinny and I've got big bags under my eyes and I look like a ghost or something." He mumbled.
"Believe me when I say that you're not ugly at all. Not one bit."
"I can't. I can't believe you. I'm sorry."
"Why not?"
"Because I've been told I'm using by everyone but my mum and sister for my whole life. It can't just change."
"I'm sorry. I-I didn't think you believed us, I thought you knew you weren't ugly."
Harry just shrugged. "It's alright. 'm used to it I guess."
"You shouldn't be."
"Well, what can I do?" Harry forced a smile onto his face as he lay down, curling up on his side.
"Do you want me to keep talking to you?"
"No. It's alright. Thank you though."
"Would you like me to play some music or something then?"
Harry nodded, "um, yeah. That would be nice."
"What kinda thing do you like?"
"Um, I like Arctic Monkeys and Green Day and stuff but I don't think it's very calming."
"I'll just put a chill playlist on." Louis suggested, "is that alright?"
"Mhm. Whatever's fine. I just want to forget."
"How do you usually forget things that you want to forget?"
"I don't. Well, I-I drink sometimes...get drunk. It works but it's not good in the mornings. But I only do that when my uncle isn't home."
Louis's eyebrow shot up, "really? Well I don't reckon it's a good idea for you to get drunk now."
"Yeah, thought not. And stop looking at me like that."
"You just don't strike me as the 'drown my sorrows in alcohol' sort of person."
"I guess you don't know me." Harry said.
"Why don't you tell me about yourself?"
"Like you did? Like just facts?"
"Yeah, tell me whatever." Louis rolled over so he was facing Harry, propping his head up on his bent arm.
"Um, m'name is Harry Edward Styles, 'm 16. My favourite animal is a hedgehog and my favourite colours are blue and pink."
"When's your birthday?"
"I-I don't really celebrate my birthday."
"Why not?" Louis tilted his head.
"Um, we can't afford it. And my uncle doesn't even know when my birthday is."
"Oh...I'm sorry."
"It's alright. It's not the worst thing."
"You deserve to celebrate a birthday."
"I did with my mum. But I hate my birthday now."
"Well, when is it?"
"February 1st. Why?"
"Just wondered. Anyway, you should go to sleep. I expect you're exhausted."
"I am a bit." He nodded.
"Go to sleep." Louis turned the light off.