SOLITUDE

Chapter Sixteen

When Harry woke up the next morning, he could still feel Louis' lips on his forehead from the previous night, he could feel the strong hand in his own, and he could hear Louis' words echoing over and over again inside of his head.

I love you.

But he could also sense that something was wrong, because it's just one of those things. So instead of simply lying still and listening to the bird song outside of the living room window and fantasizing about the older boy who saved him from his own life, he pulled the thick duvet off his body and with a huff, hung his legs over the edge of the sofa, looking around him, trying to blink the sleepiness out of his tired eyes.

The flat was unusually quiet, and with people like Niall and Louis around, that was something new. Harry tried to recall the previous night - Niall going home after one or two or maybe three drinks and two boxes of chicken pizza, himself falling asleep on the sofa, Louis locking himself in his own bedroom after that wonderful kiss on his forehead.

Yeah, something was definitely unusual.

"Louis?" Harry called out blindly, blinking a few more times, expecting the older boy to come shuffling in with a grin on his face and a mug of warm tea for them both like every morning. Except nothing happened, and Harry eventually pulled his eyes away from the doorframe.

Sniffling a little, the wooden floor cold under his feet, he trailed out of the room, wrapping the duvet over his shoulders. There were no signs of life in the whole flat which made Harry wonder a lot and too much, which naturally led him towards Louis' bedroom doors.

Now, he wasn't intruding. He was simply checking for where the boy was, and that was why he let his hand push the wooden doors open, a small whisper of a 'Lou?' coming from his lips, before he pushed the doors opened fully.

The room was empty, just like the rest of the flat. The thought of Louis being in danger flew through Harry's mind, but he quickly shook it away - because he wasn't, right? He let his eyes roam over the room, realising that he'd never even seen it - a nice deep blue colour on the walls, some Coldplay and Westlife and The Script posters stuck on quite neatly here and there, a single bed tucked to one side, a wardrobe and a desk to the other, and a big window.

Harry liked the window, he decided, as he let himself walk into the room. There was an actual seat, with soft plush cushions, and he felt himself grin a little. He had a window seat before, that is at his old house. He remembered the days when his mum, Anne, sat with him, telling him endless stories of Peter Pan and The Beauty and The Beast, with orange juice on a summer day and hot chocolate in the winter, gazing out into the beautiful forest behind his house.

Except what happened there wasn't necessarily beautiful.

He felt himself breathe in a little, tears pinching at his eyes as he sat himself down on the soft cushion, images of Anne packing her bags and planting kisses on his cheeks through tears as she exited the house flashed through his mind. He was happy for her, actually. To be getting away from her abusive husband. It was better than anything, and even if it meant that he was all by himself with no one to support him, he was happy for his mum. He knew that she couldn't take him with her, not on his father's watch.

He heard a distant voice, somewhere in the back of his head, telling him to stay strong, please Harry, I'll come back for you and I'm sorry. It was his mum, he knew, but he let the thought drift away.

Snapping away from the horrible thoughts, he let his eyes linger on a book that was left abandoned on Louis' desk. Now, that was intruding. But Louis wouldn't mind, would he? He surely wouldn't. Harry lifted himself up from the window seat, hearing someone making their way up the staircase in the flat hallway, as he came to a stop in front of the desk. His fingered lingered on the hard black cover of the book, Louis' name ingraved in gold ink in beautiful handwriting. He had no idea what it was, and if was allowed to touch it, but he sat himself down on the spinning chair and took the book in his hands.