CHANGE

TWENTY ONE

LOUIS

Louis wakes up around 5am, his insomnia getting the better of him once again. The first thing he notices is the familiar body next to him, and he gasps as he realises the position he's in, Harry's head laid on his chest with the rest of his body curled into Louis.

Louis smiles worriedly, but he can't help the feeling of comfort and warmth that spreads through his chest, with Harry's body curled around him as though it were meant to fit.

He looks at Harry's sleeping body lovingly, a small frown appearing between his eyebrows. He loves this. He loves Harry. Always has, always will.

He shakes his head and the smile disappears.

"I know you probably don't feel the same way about us anymore Haz" he whispers. "But I'll always love you... it was always you, love".

He hears Harry take a breath and he closes his mouth quickly, his body stiffening. He can only hope Harry didn't hear that.

"Morning Lou" Harry says, yawing. He looks at the clock on Liams wall, frowning slightly. "Why are you even up at this time?" Louis smiles uneasily. "Um...I, uh'. He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter".

He may love Harry still, but that doesn't mean he's going to spill his secrets to him. Especially not after what happened with Liam.

Harry frowns but let's it go, sitting up slightly. He blushes once he realises their close position and turns away. Louis looks down at him fondly, a small smile making its way onto his face. "You okay" he asks quietly. Harry smiles. "Yeah".

They both giggle. The whole situation is just weird, and they're both trying to avoid the awkwardness of what happened last night.

Louis bites his lip, contemplating whether to ask Harry the question that's been bugging him.

"Haz" he says nervously.

Harry looks up, meeting Louis' blue eyes. "Yeah?" He answers.

"Have you, you know, been with anyone else...relationships? Real ones" he adds, knowing better than to trust the tabloids.

He immediately regrets asking the question, blinking quickly as he shakes his head. "Sorry, it's not really any of my business-".

"It's fine" Harry interrupts him, placing a hand on Louis' shoulder. "And no, I haven't". He answers, deciding not to disclose his adultery. For all he knew Louis only meant relationships, not sex. That night had been the only other person, and he had made himself sick with it ever since. He pauses for a moment. "Have you?".

Louis shakes his head. "Nah" he whispers. "Couldn't", Harry nods, agreeing". But unlike Harry, Louis is talking about everything, flings, relationships, one night stands.

"Nobody could ever compare to you" Louis whispers, avoiding eye contact with Harry.

Harry nods slightly, being this close to Louis again makes him all the more guilty, but he's selfish. He doesn't want to sacrifice this moment. "God i missed you like mad, Lou". Their faces are extremely close together and Harry can't take his eyes off the older lad.

This time Louis ignores the nickname, it sounds so natural from Harry's lips. His breath hitches at their close proximity and he breathes in, his head hazy. He doesn't even think about what he's doing.

It's the same with Harry.

Both boys miss each other like crazy, and they crave each other. But both of them are too scared to take the leap of faith

Louis' heart pounds so loud he can hear it ringing through his ears, he's so close to Harry that he can't put a coherent thought together, it's like he's caught in the eye of the storm, and it's got a iron grip on him in it's crazy whirlwind.

"Fuck it" Harry whispers, leaning forward and capturing Louis' soft lips between his own.

Louis stays still as Harry's lips mould to his own, fitting so perfectly. He's frozen.

He wants so badly to kiss Harry back, but his body won't allow him, he's protecting himself. He can't let Harry in no matter how much he want's to.

Harry continues to kiss him slowly and softly, dying for Louis to reciprocate the gesture, almost begging as he gently places a hand on Louis' cheek. He doesn't want to believe it's really over, that Louis didn't want this as much as him.

Louis' heart flutters in his chest as he feels warmth flooding his whole body, and for the first time in a long time he feels.

He feels everything, every emotion, every touch. And it makes him cry. Salty tears roll down his cheeks and a choked sob escapes between the twos lips.

Harry pulls back as he notices Louis' tears and looks at him shocked. "Lou, what's wrong love?".

Inside Harry is panicking, terrified that he's got it wrong. That's he's well and truly fucked up again. Louis' never going to talk to him after this, any change they had at friendship is gone. He's fucked it.

"I-I don't know" Louis replies, wiping his eyes. "I just... I don't know". Another sob escapes him and he sits up, shoving Harry off of him, before making a dash towards the bathroom.

...

Louis doesn't know how long he's shut in the bathroom, only that during this time he's questioning everything. He ignores Harry's soft pleas, begging him to open the door until they finally cease.

He grips the ceramic sink tightly, knuckles going white from his grip. He looks up into the mirror, noticing his sweaty hair leaning over the basin, and his pale face looks like death. He places a hand on his chest as tries to pull himself together, trying to maintain a regular heart and breathing rate.

He feels like the wind has been knocked out of him and he's just ran a marathon as he pushes off the panic attack that's approaching. Questions whiz through his brain almost at the speed of light.

Why did Harry kiss him? Was it spur of the moment, a mistake? Did he still love him?

No, he couldn't.

Louis' mind swirls with thoughts and he feels his wrists itching. All he wants to do right now is to feel his blade against his skin, feel some sort of relief. He's an addict, and when the going gets tough his addiction is his angel, saving him from the depths of hell he manages to drag himself into.

"Louis!" He's pulled back to reality by the sound of Liams voice at the door, shouting. "Louis come on mate, open the door, please".

"Louis stop running away".

Louis slumps down the bathroom wall, leaning his head against the door as he feels panic overwhelm him, Liam's protests only scaring him more.

His chest feels heavy and his windpipe small, as he scratches his scabbed wrists with vigour, opening a few recently healed cuts. Blood smears over his wrist but it's not the same, he doesn't feel the same pain, or relief.

He buries his head in his crossed arms, salty tears soaking the fabric of his hoodie.

He just wants his mum.