Eleven.

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It was another week before Louis text Harry. It was a Saturday evening, and as usual Louis was getting ready to hit the town. He had hung out with Harry at the café once that week, and it had been the highlight of Louis' week so far. Actually, Louis had had a relatively bad week. He was struggling to want to eat, and he could tell that he was losing weight. He looked pale, his collarbones were starting to show, and his cheeks looked much more hollow than usual. Nobody seemed to be picking up on it though, so Louis didn't try to do anything about it, he just wore thicker jumpers to hide himself. It felt good, not eating. He felt like he was punishing himself for what he did to Zayn. He was showering multiple times a day, and his skin was getting more and more sore as the days went on, but that didn't mean he was going to stop. He needed to clean the anger, the self-loathing, and the guilt away. He needed to stop seeing the blood on his hands and he needed to stop feeling Zayn's cold body under his fingertips. When the shower was running, it meant he didn't hear his own screams from that day, and he couldn't hear the cries of Liam and Niall as they called for help. The hot water would scald his skin, and to Louis, it felt like he deserved it. He deserved to hurt. That Saturday, he had scrubbed himself raw in the shower having skipped dinner for the third day in a row. His stomach was clenching itself it was that empty. But the pain, the feeling of being hungry, Louis revelled in it. He was planning on going to the bar to hook up with another random man and get his weekly dose of enjoyable punishment. He could hear Liam and Niall arguing about something downstairs, so when he was ready, he went down so they knew he was going out.

"We have to go in there at some point! It's been almost two months!" Liam yelled, slamming a drawer shut in the kitchen.

"You think I don't know that? You think I haven't counted every single day? I'm not doing it, Li, and you can't make me!"

"I don't want to have to either, but someone has to bite the bullet, and it sure as hell isn't going to be Mr Mute up there!" Louis stopped in his tracks. Mr Mute. Is that what Liam and Niall saw him as? They continued their screaming match in the kitchen, but Louis felt his chest tighten so he quietly stumbled out of the house, closing the front door as silently as possible. Mr Mute. He walked down the path, not even realising he was going in the wrong direction as the tears began to cloud his vision. Mr Mute. Liam and Niall hated him. Zayn hated him. Everyone hated him. When he looked up and realised that he had walked to the park, he sat down on an empty bench. The park. He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled until he reached a specific name.

'Need help. Park. Please.'

'On my way.'

Within a few minutes, Louis saw the familiar figure of Harry running through the gate. It was dark, but as soon as Harry saw Louis he ran faster until he reached him, instantly putting his arms around Louis, and pulling him in for a hug.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, what happened?" Harry asked, running his hand up and down Louis' back to comfort him. This only caused Louis to cry harder, his body completely leaning on Harry's for support. "Okay, let's, um, let's get you inside, it's freezing. Do you want me to take you home?" Louis shook his head violently; the house was the last place he wanted to be. "Oh, um, alright, well, we could go to mine? It's just round the corner, um, is that better?" Louis nodded before letting Harry show the way to his front door. "I'm um, sorry about the mess, I wasn't really expecting company tonight," Harry explained as he opened the bright red door of the flat and let Louis walk in. Once Harry had switched the light on, Louis let his eyes wander through the apartment. The front door opened straight into the opened-planned room, where a soft grey sofa facing the TV sat in the middle. There was a mirror hanging on the wall, and a coffee table scattered with newspapers, books, and magazines in front of the sofa. There were standing lamps in the corners, a window covered in grey curtains, and a table and two chairs against the wall, just as you get to the kitchen. From where Louis was standing, he could see the fridge, the cooker, and the washing machine underneath the counters. On top sat jars of biscuits, a hot drinks machine and a microwave. It was a relatively small apartment, and on his left was a door that Louis assumed led to Harry's bedroom and the bathroom. "Okay, so, um, welcome to my home. Here, let me take your jacket and you can, uh, make yourself comfortable on the sofa." Louis obliged, shrugging off his denim jacket and handing it to Harry to hang on the pegs by the front door. He walked over to the sofa, sitting down and using his sleeve to brush away the tears that were still falling. Mr Mute. "Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" Harry asked, standing behind the sofa and peering worriedly at Louis, "I can get you water, tea, coffee, hot chocolate, squash? If you're hungry I have some fruit or some, um, biscuits, or I can cook something if you'd like?" Louis shook his head at the food, the idea of eating making him feel sick. "Alright, well, I know you won't say no to a hot chocolate, at least that should, uh, warm you up a bit, one second," and with that Harry went into the kitchen area, pulling out two mugs and using the machine to make the drinks. Louis was still crying when Harry brought the drinks over, placing them on the coasters on the coffee table and sitting down next to Louis on the sofa. "You know," Harry started whilst fumbling with his fingers, "it meant a lot when you texted me. I know we've been, um, hanging out quite a bit but it still meant something when I was the person you came to when you're clearly upset, you know?" Louis nodded, wiping his tears away and leaning his head on Harry's shoulder. He felt Harry put his arm around him, pulling him closer. "Can I just, um, ask one thing though? Why didn't you go to Liam or Niall?" Louis sighed, grabbing his phone, and going straight to his notes.

'They were fighting, and Liam said something, and I had to leave.'

Harry nodded, looking directly at Louis. "You can stay here for as long as you like, I don't, um, I don't live with anyone so it's just us, you're more than welcome to stay, Lou." Lou. Louis couldn't help but smile slightly at the nickname, it was the first time Harry had ever called him anything other than Louis or Hot Chocolate, and it was the first time Louis realised how much he appreciated having Harry as a friend. When Zayn died, Louis thought he would never make another friend, and as happy as Louis was to have Harry, he knew that as soon as he knew the truth, he would leave. They all would. Every single person would leave him. His mum and his sisters would disown him. Trisha and Yaser would hate him. Liam and Niall would make him leave the house. Harry would never talk to him again. He'd be booted off the football team, kicked off his course, and forced to drop out of university. He'd have no family, no friends, no home, and no future. Honestly, that was why Louis never talked. If he didn't talk, he wouldn't accidentally let slip the truth. If he kept his mouth shut, he could punish himself, and nobody else would have to do it for him.

A few hours later, and Louis was falling asleep on the sofa, Harry's arm still around his shoulders, holding him in place as they watched an Avengers movie. It had gone midnight now, and they were both beginning to get sleepy. Suddenly, Louis' phone started to ring, and he looked down to see Liam's name on the screen. Mr Mute. He let out a shaky breath, cancelling the call and closing his eyes. It started to ring again, but this time he ignored it, letting the ringtone fill the apartment as Harry watched with tired eyes. "Are you not going to get that?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows as Louis shook his head, the tears falling once again. Liam stopped the call, only to send a text instead.

'Louis, where the hell are you? We thought you were still in your room but you're not. You have to tell us where you're going, you fucking idiot!' That's all it took for Louis to burst into tears, his hands trembling as he held tightly onto the phone.

"Hey, come on, Lou, what's the matter?" Harry asked gently, using his thumbs to wipe away some of Louis' tears as they fell down his pale cheeks. "Shh, it's okay, you don't have to cry. Can you, um, show me what's wrong?" Louis slowly handed Harry the phone, watching as his soft green eyes scanned the message before cautiously looking back at Louis. "Can I, um, can I do something? Do you mind?" Louis shook his head, confusedly watching as Harry pressed a button on Louis' phone. "Hi, Liam, it's Harry," Louis heard as Liam's voice started to shout from the other end of the phone, "can you please stop shouting and listen to what I have to say?" There was a moment of silence before Harry continued. "Thank you. Yes, Louis is with me, and he told me that he heard you guys fighting earlier so he left. He's staying with me tonight, and if he wants to come home tomorrow then I will bring him when he's ready. Good night." Louis stared at Harry, shocked that he was so forceful with Liam. "I'm sorry, um, I hope I didn't overstep the mark. I just, uh, after the way he talked to you I couldn't let him get away with it. You don't have to stay here if you don't want to, I mean of course you're more than welcome but there's no pressure. I can, um, I can take you home now or take you somewhere else or whatever you like, um, yeah, it's your choice, just show me what you want." Louis smiled through his tears, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Harry. They held each other, Louis feeling the most comfortable he had felt since before Zayn passed away. As they held each other, Louis found himself doing something he never thought he'd do.

"Thank you, Harry."

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