THE BEGINNING OF THE END L.S

10. S P A C E S

C H A P T E R T E N
<><><>
"Louis, wake up! Your future needs you, Your past doesn't!"
<><><>

Somewhere in the last month, Harry lost himself.

That's what happened.

He didn't know when; he didn't know how. It just happened. He was there and then he wasn't there, and he had no idea how to get himself back.

<><><>

At the beginning, only some of his days would be bad. He would only skip some of his meals; only take some antibiotics to help with the pain, only go silent some of the time.

But as time went on, as Louis would go to interviews, telling Harry to stay home even when he asked to come, he began to feel trapped. Trapped in his flat, trapped in his cancerous prison, trapped in his poisonous mind.

He refused to admit it to himself; but he began to struggle with Louis too. Because Louis didn't want to talk about the cancer. Or maybe he did. Harry was too afraid to bring it up in case he upset him. But ignoring it was paining Harry more than anything, because in a way he was hiding himself from Louis; the cancer was who he was now.

And Louis was just so painfully hopeful. Everyone was so painfully hopeful.

His family would visit with homemade cooking; have family dinners as though nothing was going on. Harry felt like tipping up all the food and telling them to quit pretending to be happy.

He didn't.

Kendall would face time him, show him things she'd bought, tell him about her future plans for after he got better, talk about such silly little things that Harry felt like telling her to stop talking about a time he wouldn't be here to see.

He didn't.

Taylor would send him tickets to her concerts, Louise would bring round hair products, Ed would send him memes, Paul would give him big hugs, Alexa would offer to paint his nails, Michael would send him demos, Nick would ring him everyday, Harry felt like screaming to him to give up hoping.

He didn't.

The worst part was that everyone could see it happening, and they were choosing to ignore it for his sake.

It was inevitable that one day he would eventually snap.

<><><>

Harry stared out the window, at the white snow falling perfectly over London like a blanket.

He wanted nothing more than to go out and lay in it but today his body felt particularly weak; particularly useless.

It didn't stop him imagining a time where he never collapsed, where he was never diagnosed with cancer.

He would wrap himself up in massive coats and ugly hats, and he and Louis would go outside until right into the depth of the night. They would lie down on the soft ground and make trashy snow-angles and deformed snowmen, which were supposed to look like each other. Then Harry would jokily throw a snowball at Louis, but Louis being Louis would take it serious and it would end up in a full-blown snowball fight.

They would find a hill and sit together on a sledge, which was way too small for both of them, but they didn't mind because it would be way more fun to go on together. Then Louis would begin to complain to Harry that he was too cold so Harry would carry Louis on his back up the stairs to their apartment, where they would have a bath, make hot chocolates and watch the trashiest sit-coms possible.