you are half of me (and I am all for you) - larry stylinson

eleven

They made ridiculous, annoying small talk all the way through the grass of Zayn's back yard and during the first five minutes on the trail riddled with roots and rocks to trip over.

Harry almost tripped a million times, the risk so much that Louis ended up keeping a hand twisted in the back of his sunny yellow parka, so he could yank him back if necessary. It was necessary at least a dozen times in five minutes.

Then Harry tripped really badly and the rain-slick material of his jacket slipped between Louis' fingers. He ended up skidding on his hands and knees, nearly bashing his forehead into a rock. It was exactly the kind of sad, humiliating thing neither of them needed right now.

A laugh slipped out of Louis' mouth before he could filter it, a product of hysteria rather than amusement.

"Christ. Fuck. Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. This isn't funny. This was a bad idea. I'm so sorry. I just wanted somewhere we could talk in private, fuck, this is horrible. You're shivering. Your palms are bleeding, fuck. We should go back. Harry..."

Harry eased himself into a steady position and scooted his butt back to lean against the thick trunk of a big tree. He tipped his head back against the trunk and closed his eyes, appearing surprisingly zenlike in the misfortunate turn of events.

Louis knelt down beside him, taking his hands. "I'm so sorry. This is the worst day ever."

Harry laughed a little. Louis could barely make out his face in the dull light of the solar-powered lantern he brought with them, in the hopes that it would help them not trip over roots and scrape their palms up on rocks. But he could see that his eyes were still closed and his face was wet with rain. Louis squeezed his hands tighter.

"You know, this isn't even the worst time I cried over you. Nor is it the stupidest. Which is saying something."

Louis' heart shattered. It had been cracking all night, but Harry confirming his worst fear was the hammer that broke it to pieces.

"I'm an idiot," Louis said, feeling Harry try to pull his hands away.

He held on tighter, too chicken to let go. Chicken. Coward. Louis was a coward.

He said it out loud. "I'm a coward. I'm really stupid and selfish and I've been hurting you for so long. I didn't even realize it. I'm so sorry, Harry."

Free solo climber. Bandmember, musician, artist. Mechanic, in love with his stupid fucking personified van. Big brother of five younger sisters. The guy who loved to take risks for the thrill of it, climbed enormous rock structures without any gear because he was confident and brave, started a band with his best friends because even though it was uncertain he had faith that they would make it big if they just took the leap, basically acted as the father-figure for his siblings because their dad just wasn't around.

Best friend of the boy he loved. The boy he was too afraid to tell he loved.

Risk taker, but only sometimes. Only when it was convenient, only when he was confident. Coward.

"You don't have to apologize, Louis. This is all on me."

He wanted to take Harry's face in his hands, hold it closely and softly, but that would've been crossing a line. Instead, he squeezed Harry's hand again, which had gone limp since he tried to pull away, long, delicate fingers resting lightly in Louis' grasp.

"No. It's not your fault. It's definitely mine. I have to tell you something, something I never told you before. It might not make sense at first but I promise it swings back around to the point I'm trying to make."

Harry stayed quiet, and it was enough permission for him to dive into it.

"The details aren't important, so I'll just try to sum it up, but. I had a childhood best friend. Neighbors, grew up together, all that. Realized we were gay together. I mean, kinda. It felt like he was always one step ahead of me, but I digress. When we were in high school, I realized I was falling in love with him. Or maybe I already had. I don't know."

"I'd really rather not hear about this-"

"I swear it's important, Harry, please. I was in love with him and I was braver back then about love, so I told him. And it turns out he was kinda in love with me too, so we started dating, or like, we were in a relationship. It lasted for three years. It was great, until it wasn't. I won't bore you with the details, but we fell apart, right before college. Our breakup was horrible. It ruined our friendship. Totally obliterated it. We despised each other, never wanted to see each other again."

Louis remembered it clear as day, the feeling of loss, the feeling of bereavement. He knew it like the back of his hand now, a feeling that clung to him like the Washington mist. Cold, wet, harsh. Being left alone. Being left lonely. It was petty and dramatic but it hurt so fucking bad, losing the person he had relied on his entire life. Having to carry on, feeling lost and confused, feeling so fucking alone.

"I'm not trying to make this into some sob story. And I know it was a stupid, fickle high school relationship, that it doesn't matter, that it was never meant to last, but it really- It was really important to me. It messed me up so bad, Harry. Losing my best friend, the one person I could count on and trust, the one person I really, really loved. We had been friends our entire lives, we grew up together, we loved each other, and then nothing. It was over. Hate, disgust, trying to forget each other, trying to move on. It fucked me up so bad."

"Lou, I get it. It's okay."

Harry's blood was smearing onto Louis' palms. They really needed to go inside.

"What I did to you isn't okay, though," he argued, looking into Harry's eyes now.

He had to be brave about this, not for himself, but for Harry. Because he had been hurting him for years now and that was the last thing he wanted to do, to end something before it even began and hurt them all the same.

In the end, it was easier to say than he expected. The words flowed out easily, as a promise, as an apology.

"I love you so much, Harry. More than just platonically. More than just romantically, too. Like, it's not just friendship, or lust, or romance. It's so, so much deeper than that. Which is fucking crazy but I don't care-"

"Lou-"

Misting down on them was the unforgiving rain, wetting their pale skin with dewdrops that glistened in the lantern's unnatural blue glow. They were cold and shaking, wrought with spilled blood and fresh tears. So many tears, dripping down their faces and mixing with the rain.

"I don't want to be scared of it anymore. I just want to love you."

The clouds above them were comforting, a blanket to muffle the impact. The trees around them listened with soft, loving consciences.

"We should get inside," Harry whispered, gentle enough to not break the spell. "You're shaking like a leaf."

"So are you." It wasn't from the cold.

Louis helped him up. Harry wrapped his arm around his shoulder, maybe as a gesture of comfort, more likely to support himself from falling again.

Aside from the roots and rocks, the trail was soft, littered with pine needles that muffled their messy footfalls. They moved slowly, methodically, and didn't speak.

"Will you go sit in the bathroom? I want to get a fire started in the fireplace, and then I'll meet you there."

Harry smiled. It was small, but it was there.

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