(A/N:

sending the utmost love, respect and strength to all PoC during this time.

I am with you. I hear and see your pain, and I stand with you. You matter. You've always mattered, and even on the other side of the world, I will fight for justice. To those protesting, protect yourselves. Stay hydrated, have your phone fully charged. Keep warm, wear your masks & goggles. Thank you for taking a stand. I am with you.

To my readers near & far if you want justice, here's how you can help:

Keep on protesting (safely)! Donate. If you can't donate, sign petitions. Educate those around you and take a stand for justice.

https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/ <<< this link is a great way to start ! )))

-

Before Harry can really register the weight of the situation, he finds himself intertwined with Louis once again. Louis' back is pressed against the headboard, and Harry lays with his head on Louis' chest. He's found comfort in the sound of Louis' heart still hammering against his ribcage. It had slowly returned back to it's normal rate, and he hadn't even thought of the silence in the room until Louis clears his throat. He finds himself tilting his head upwards and take in the sight as Louis musters up the courage to speak.

Up close his skin is glowing, and Harry isn't sure if it's that post-sex glow, or he's just golden in general. He watches in awe as Louis' thick lashes brush against his high-set cheekbones with each blink. The colour of his eyes is that of the clear summer sky; a bright cerulean colour, glimmering with a thin layer of tears. He also notes that Louis is clenching his jaw on and off as if he's trying to force the emotions back down. He is fighting a losing battle, and very quickly. Harry can't help the frown forming when he notices the way Louis' lips quiver, and he swears his heart leaps into his throat. Before he can speak, Louis looks down at Harry and uses a hand to brush against Harry's left collarbone. His fingertips are light as a feather, tracing small circles. Harry doesn't want to break the moment, and he doesn't want to look at the pained look on Louis' face, so he closes his eyes. He focuses purely on the feeling of Louis' touch, and the gentle circles he continues tracing for a few moments. Each movement is slow, calculated, and gentle and Harry counts each circle as he feels his own tears rising. Three circles before Louis' voice fills the silence.

"I'm sorry, for what I've done. You don't deserve any of the pain I've caused," His voice is low, wavering. He's moved his hand away, and back to running it through his unkempt hair that still sticks to his forehead with sweat.

"It's okay," Harry barely whispers and watches Louis' pained expression closely. He considers for a moment to just kiss him again and show him that it really is okay.

"S'not. Don't say it's okay because you should know your own self-worth. You deserve the world and I simply can't give that to you. You're so open, and I am not. I'm broken, hopeless if you will. You're everything I am not and I'm sorry that I let it get this far. Sometimes I get a bit out of my head and do stupid things,"

Louis' voice breaks at the end, and his body shifts off the bed and Harry is suddenly hyper-alert to the absence of his warmth. He sits up as Louis sits on the edge of the bed, with his back to Harry. He has his elbows resting on his knee's and face buried in his hands. It doesn't take a genius to see the way his breathing is laboured, and it certainly doesn't take a rocket scientist to know there's high levels of mental anguish occurring inside Louis' brain. Harry finds himself between a rock and a hard place; too afraid to move. He fixates on the way Louis' back muscles are tensing through his tight shirt, and the way his shoulders remain rigid and square. There's only a few more moments of the tenseness that Harry can physically bare before he finds himself crawling and kneeling behind Louis, and he notices Louis' head turn slightly as if to monitor exactly what he's about to do.

"Are you okay?" Harry's voice is almost inaudible, and he knows it's a dumb question because he knows the answer. He hesitantly places a hand on each of Louis' shoulders, gently kneading into the tense muscles. Louis remains deathly quiet but quickly rolls his shoulders, signalling for Harry to get off him.

"I should have asked first, 'm sorry. I can see you're stressed. Can I?" Harry goes to reach forward again but is cut off when Louis quickly responds.

Louis scoffs and abruptly stands up to turn and face Harry. There's a flickering moment of weakness as Louis takes in the full sight of Harry on his bed, with his post-fuck hair, blowjob lips and radiant skin. He has to force himself to squeeze his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, taking a long moment to inhale and exhale. He's experiencing the utmost conflict because physically he wants nothing more than to crawl back onto the bed and kiss Harry on his big, stupid mouth. But he can't escape the sound of the voice that causes so much trauma over the years. Even to this day, it is the voice that instils the fear of god deep in his veins.

Louis forces himself to look back at Harry, swallowing the lump in his throat as he forces words out.

"Yeah, I am a bit stressed. Do you not feel, even for the slightest second, a bit concerned about what just happened?" He refuses to look at Harry as he speaks because he knows damn well it will not take much convincing before it's game over and he's back in his arms.

"Right now I'm not...The only thing on my mind is that I have to leave now after this. I don't really know where to go from here, and what it means for us,"

Us.

The word reverberates inside Louis' mind, loudly echoing as it bounces off every corner of his brain. The word that causes Louis to completely temporarily freeze, as he lets the weight of it sink in. The very same word that makes his chest feel as if it is being torn apart. He has to keep it together, has to keep a charade...just until Harry leaves. Then he can scream, he can cry. But he can't fall apart in front of this boy. Not after everything he's already been through.

"Us?" He forces the word out, his voice flat and emotionless. He watches as Harry anxiously chews on his bottom lip, stammering to explain himself. Louis can feel himself quickly becoming choked up and tries to focus on the internal panic quickly rising.

"Harry...just stop. Take a breath, before you give yourself a brain aneurysm. Whatever this is-was...it's over with. It's done. Truly. My actions have been beyond deplorable. This whole moving situation is really the best thing to happen to you. You can start over, and most importantly forget about me. It's easy stuff really," Louis' own voice is sounding foreign, it's filled with pain and sadness but he's trying so fucking hard to keep it together.

Louis can feel the physical pang of pain inside his chest as he forces the sentence out and forces himself towards the door to lean against. The distance between them growing, in an attempt to not see the desperation on Harry's face. He wants this whole interaction over with, and he also quite literally wants to die. He crosses his arms tightly against his chest, focusing on keeping himself together, and tilts his head backwards. The first tear spills over, and he knows the rest are quickly coming. It's a race against time here. All he needs to do is wait until he's alone to fall apart again.

"I can't keep up with you. One minute you're all over me, next minute you're just accepting the fact I'm moving away. You just needed a quick fix and you're back to your normal cunt-y self? Is that what that all was? A quick fix?" Harry's voice is harsh, also on the verge of breaking. Louis has to blink repeatedly through quickly forming tears, as the words wedge themselves deep.

"It wasn't. It really wasn't Harry. It was a mistake, but it wasn't just a quick fix," Louis keeps his eyes closed, squeezing them tightly. He doesn't want Harry to see him cry, but he's long gone now.

"In another universe, things might've been different. But we are in this universe and in this universe, we don't get the things we want. This universe has us destined for other things," He adds, and hugs himself tighter, forcing himself to look at the boy on the other side of the room.

The same boy who's eyes are filled to the brim with tears, and puffed red lips quivering with heartbreak. The very same boy whose virginity was just taken and thrown back in his face. Louis cannot speak, and he can't look at Harry's face for a second longer. He forces his gaze at the collarbone he was tracing and focuses on the three love-bites that are strategically placed along it. The one is that Harry is yet to notice himself.

Harry is quickly reaching for his shirt and slides it over his head and over his body.

"You don't deserve to look at me like that... like I'm some sort of treasure. I thought, for one fucking second, that things could be different. That maybe, just maybe we could work this out. One year...One year and I graduate. No one is going to make me feel the way you do,"

"It's not as easy as that!" Louis can't help the frustrated yell that escapes his mouth, as throws his hands in the air. Tears burning into his cheeks.

"Why isn't it easy? It's only difficult because you make it complicated!"

"It is complicated!"

The tension is so thick, one could cut it with a knife. The way that Louis' face is starting to redden with anger and the way that Harry's chest is heaving is enough for them both to start to lose their cool. They can't control the way their voices rise to match one another.

"You make it sound like you're impossible to love!? And you aren't!"

"How the hell are you supposed to know? You wouldn't know what love is! I'm not capable of loving...not anyone like you," Louis spits, his sanity teetering over the edge of a cliff.

"Anyone like me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?! Because of the fact I'm so young and naïve or is it the fact I'm a guy? Because you clearly didn't give a shit 15 minutes ago!" Harry's tears have now quickly dried up, and the feeling of heartbreak quickly replaced with fiery rage.

"I couldn't love another man. I can't. You don't understand!" Louis' voice is flat, and no longer raised. His voice is the definition of defeat.

The words slap Harry, and hard. He must take a breath and let the words sink in. He gives himself a few moments to ensure he heard it right.

"Another? There's another?" He stammers

"Wouldn't you like to know? The greatest mystery of all time. Who was the man that Louis Tomlinson once loved? – it doesn't matter. I made mistakes and I've learnt from them,"

"What exactly have you learnt Louis?" Harry pushes, walking towards Louis. His eyes focused on Louis'.

"I have learnt that loving another man may be the end of me. And that's it. That's all you need to know. This universe isn't made for us. So, if you don't mind... You need to go, now," Louis looks down the hallway.

It takes about 5 seconds of Louis' mind to catch up with his own body and the way Harry is in his arms. A painful goodbye. He didn't think he was going to get this hug and he didn't know if he wanted it. Harry's warmth is overwhelming, and Louis is suddenly aware of how cold he is. He is aware of the way his body shakes with fear and the way the anger has left his body and left him ice cold. Louis can't see properly through the tears and he lets out a weak sob before gently patting Harry on the back. He turns his head slightly and buries his face into the warmth of Harry's neck, and noticing the way his curls tickle his skin. He places three gentle kisses against Harry's neck and then he forces himself to detach.

"I hope the other universes are as heartbroken as I am because this universe is a piece of shit,"

And that's Harry's last words before he disappears. There's a few more seconds, and they pass achingly slow before Louis hears the front door slam shut.

"Fuck...Fuck..." He heaves, tears falling out of control. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, as he knees give out. The feeling of dejection crashed over him as he sinks to the floor.

If you ever tell another man you love them, I'll find you and I will kill you. And that's a promise.

Louis' father's voice plays on repeat, and it is deafening. Louis feels as if the words are strangling him, just like his father's hands had once done. He knows that this is the start of the end for him. All these years of forcing himself to be different were gone out the window. He was the same scared, confused, and broken boy he once was.