(A/N: guess who's back. back again? um anyway- sorry for the extremely late chapter. I feel really guilty but university is extremely difficult. I'm working on multiple assignments, doing daily classes, juggling single motherhood and also preparing for upcoming clinical placement. I'm no superhuman, unfortunately. thnx for your unwavering patience and love. i love y'all)  

Harry wasn't completely heartbroken when the idea of living with Niall was shut down. It was starting to really feel like a completely fresh start wasn't a bad idea at all. Everything in this godforsaken place just radiated toxic energy and left Harry feeling more drained than ever. Of course, leaving Niall and Ed behind was going to be painful but he knew that they'd still remain close even with the distance.

"I'm really sorry Harry, I know this is a big thing to spring on you and I know that you have your friends here but the purpose of us moving is to give you a fresh start. If I were to move and leave you to stay behind then that defeats the purpose of it," Anne's eyes are filled with a sense of deep sadness as she watches Harry slump back into his chair. She reaches over and gently runs her hands through his hair in a silent bid of comfort. "You're going to make wonderful friends you know. This school is going to be excellent."

"Yeah, I know. I just...I just want to finish the year here at least. I don't want to move in the middle of the year. You're probably right in saying that things here aren't the best for me. And there's a lot of evidence to back that claim but you also have to trust that I am okay," Harry can't help but sound like he's starting to beg, when in fact, it's the opposite. The pain of moving was starting to subside, and he was coming to terms with it.

"I understand honey,"

"You're such a bright, intelligent young man. You know that, right? I know I told you that your school sent in letters of support and recommending you as a student, but you have no idea about the wonderful things they've said about you. Your teachers really appreciate you,"

"I don't believe that. I'm not the receiving the top grades out of the cohort and I've missed quite a bit of class with everything that's happened...I'm not...Whoever they were, they were probably just doing it because they had to," Harry winces at the thought, crossing his arms and tilting his head back. He closes his eyes and forces a deep breath, a coping mechanism for his growing anxiety.

"One of them actually put their hands up to do it without being asked," Anne's voice is filled with newfound warmth and excitement, and Harry opens one eye and watches as she walks over to her filing cabinet. Her brunette hair is pulled into a neat bun and Harry can't help but notice the tiredness of her face and he starts to feel immensely guilty because through all of this, he hasn't really thought about the impact it's had on her.

"I love you," The words leave Harry's mouth before he can stop himself, but he's thankful in the end because he watches as his mother's tired face turns up into a warm smile again and she looks like some sort of life has been breathed back into her. He watches cautiously as she flicks through papers and then pulls one out on its own.

"Aha! I just want you to read it and understand what you are capable of, okay?" Anne waves the paper in the air as she quickly makes her way back over to Harry's slumped figure in the chair and she reaches out to pass it to him.

Harry hesitantly takes the paper out of her hands and the first thing he notices is the school's logo in the top right corner and all the details about it. His eyes slowly scan the wording and there is a feeling of recognition that flutters in the depths of his stomach. It leaves him feeling warm, excited, and proud. All his life he has heard snide comments made about him, or just flying under the radar but to be noticed and recognised in such a manner leaves a feeling of accomplishment in his veins.

To Whom It May Concern,

I'm writing this letter of support to assist Harry Styles with his application and hopefully assist in his chances of being offered a place at your facility. Harry has shown immense bravery and commitment to education whilst he's been a student of mine. Although he's experienced a series of unfortunate events, not once did he falter in his academic achievements. He took up extra tutoring lessons, and always studied extra content to ensure that he was kept up to date. Not once have I felt that he's been inadequate. I believe that the utmost potential to be a budding academic scholar, and by allowing a switch into a healthier environment I believe he will grow into his full potential. This student has shown a level of intelligence and strength that I've not witnessed before and he is unparalleled in comparison to his peers.

There would be no mistakes or regrets if you decide to accept his application. I can guarantee that.

Yours Sincerely,

Mr Louis W. Tomlinson (Head of Drama)

It is right when Harry reads the who wrote it, that he feels every particle of oxygen knock out of his lungs. It's as if Mike Tyson has punched him directly in his sternum and he's left winded. Harry can't even control the fact his hands start to shake so much that the words on the paper start to blur. He also can feel his mother's presence closer than before.

"Are you alright, love? Harry?"

"It wasn't him. He didn't write this without being asked, right?" Harry's eyes widen as he turns frantically towards his mother, who's green eyes are widened with confusion. He watches as her browns pull into a frown and she blinks before shaking her head slightly. "Tell me...Tell me this is a joke?" Harry's voice breaks, and he can feel the familiar burning of the corner of his eyes.

He's not going to cry because then it would be beyond suspicious. He diverts his attention to the searing burning that is spreading through his chest, and it's enough for his brain to forget to form tears for a second. He shakes his head and rubs his hands against his jeans before his eyes flicker back towards Anne.

"He was actually the one that put his hand up straight away. He's really fond of you Harry,"

Harry's mind is working overtime and his body shakes harder as he holds in his breath. Before he completely loses it, he forces himself to stand up and forces a smile on his face. He turns back towards his mother and hands her the paper and runs his hands anxiously through his hair. A habit that he can't break.

"Excellent. He never mentioned it at all," Harry shifts weight between each foot and shoves his hands in his pocket. He feels like he is surely about to spontaneously combust. "Not even once. No head's up. Nothing. Nada. Zilch,"

"You look like you're about to have a nervous breakdown," Anne focuses on speaking gently and carefully. She's becoming increasingly aware of the fragility of her son and doesn't want him to have an outburst.

"Maybe because I am? All of this shit was happening when I had absolutely no clue. I've been lied to and betrayed. I'm supposed to just pack up shop and start over in a blink of an eye. The school really knew...L-Mr Tomlinson knew? I just... I just need some air. I need space," Harry starts off with his voice raised and hands shooting in different directions dramatically as he hits a breaking point, and as he continues he softens into a mutter and forces himself to move out of the room.

"It isn't my fault. I've thought about every option here,"

Harry reaches out and grips the door frame, hunching slightly and trying to keep his air intake up so he does not faint. He shakes his head with finality and turns his head to lock gazes with his mother again.

"You thought about every option, but you didn't think about giving me enough time to process and prepare to uproot and start all over. I want space. I might go stay at Niall's for a few days. Might go enjoy my limited time left while I can,"

Harry can't even prevent the way his words drip in vicious anger that makes his mother automatically recoil, and he automatically feels the guilt flooding his system. There are too many emotions happening at once and he needs to breathe fresh air and think this through. He needs to make sense of it all. His legs feel weighted down as he forces them out the backdoor and he stumbles down the few steps until he sits down at the very bottom. He buries his face in his hands and lets out a weak noise as he feels the tears surging like tidal waves.

Louis knew. Louis knew all along. He helped orchestrate it.

Harry's brain automatically starts to replay the events of him breaking the news to Louis. The way he barely flinched. He recalls the moment that Louis winced slightly and played it off as the tea he was drinking was too hot. In fact, Louis seemed to be in control at all moments until after...until after they were in bed. Harry feels his chest constrict and it's like a boulder is crushing him, and the ability to get air in is becoming impossible. The surge of true panic and realisation has him gripping his hair and sucking in air rapidly.

Harry forces his eyes closed, trying his best to push it all away but his brain is too busy reliving every moment of their intimate moments. He can physically remember the way Louis' fingers gently pressed into his skin, and his lips pressed against his neck. It's like as if it's a snowball effect. It starts off with Louis' eyes and how they softened when they looked at Harry after the kiss, and then it's feeling of Louis' stubble and the way his body felt pressed against him. It's no longer a snowball, but a full-blown avalanche.

He knew.

Louis knew and he really was trying to say goodbye.

"How dare you," Harry mutters to himself, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. He can feel the tears burning his cheeks and tries to stop the way his lips start to tremble. He knows he's talking to himself, but he's really just saying it out loud as if Louis was right there.

Harry considers for a moment to confront Louis and force him to explain himself. Harry wants to scream and ask him why he would do that to him? Why would he do that to them? But Louis made it abundantly clear that there is no 'them'. Which makes Harry's tears increase further. His spiralling thoughts, however, are quickly paused when he begins to feel his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He takes another deep breath and wipes his face on the sleeve of his shirt and sniffles, a weak attempt at pulling himself together. He doesn't even look at the name as he presses the phone to his ear.

"Hello," He mumbles, careful to conceal the sound of him crying. He focuses hard on keeping his voice from wavering and speaks slowly. He opens his eyes and blinks through the last of the tears, eyes readjusting to the bright outside area.

The voice on the other end leaves Harry in complete shock, and unable to form words.

++++

"I wasn't supposed to say anything,"

That was all Louis could keep muttering to himself the following afternoon when he was in a fit enough shape to properly communicate with the woman sitting across from him. She wasn't looking at him with judgement, but rather with soft hazel eyes that were filled with genuine concern.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd stop looking at me like you're a psychologist. This isn't a session. I've already had enough of those. Can you just be...yourself? Eleanor...seriously," Louis' eyes narrow and he clenches his jaw, as he massages his temples and breathes in a slow and controlled manner.

"I'm not trying to be a psychologist here. I'm trying to be a friend and someone who you can trust to confide in. This is your life and there's no use in pushing it to the side. Talk about it,"

Louis takes a calculated sip of the iced coffee that Eleanor arrived with earlier, and he's thankful for the caffeine because he truly needs it. He doesn't know how to explain himself because there's no decent way of explaining it. He's sick. He swallows the mouthful of the bitter drink and rolls his eyes.

"Well. I guess I already said it. Didn't I?" He watches as Eleanor doesn't say a word nor flinches and it makes Louis' anger start to flare. "If you didn't hear me say it before, I'll repeat it. I let my emotions get the better of me and I lost my sense of control and I fucked a student. Okay? Is that what you needed to hear Eleanor?!"

"Well, it's not exactly what I was expecting to hear. But I guess now that you're admitting it sober that's one thing. Let's talk about it,"

"How about we don't talk about it," Louis cuts her off by raising his hand in an abrupt manner. Eleanor straightens up and her eyes widen immediately. Louis' whole body is tense and looks the most uncomfortable he has in his life.

"Well, you can't ignore it. What are you going to do? Pretend it never happened?! You can't-,"

"I actually can, and I will. He's literally leaving like he's skipping town and starting over, and I won't have to see him again. It's the best outcome possible,"

"You see it as the best outcome but there's also going to be a lot of mental anguish, Louis. It's not a simple thing that you can get over. This is actually a massive deal like you're in love with him. That doesn't just go away with distance,"

Louis scoffs and considers telling Eleanor to leave because there's absolutely no way in hell is he doing to discuss the idea of love. There's a very big difference between loving someone and being in love with someone.

"This person is a fucking minor Eleanor. I need to be executed. Nothing about this is normal and I'm sure as hell not in love with him. It's impossible,"

"Let me put it this way," Eleanor leans forward and gently holds Louis' hand. Her hands radiate warmth, which in turn immediately warms Louis' cold ones. "If this was different and he wasn't a minor nor a student, what would you do?"

"This shouldn't even be a topic of conversation. There is no "what if" or "imagine this". This is a real person, who is an actual student and I am an adult. Who also happens to be his teacher? This is every level of disgusting Eleanor. There's nothing to be discussed," Louis rips his hand out from Eleanor's and slams his coffee down on the table. He can't take it anymore.

"Remember who you're talking to. I'm not the police. I'm here as someone who has loved you for a long time and you can trust. I don't agree at all with the actions that have taken place but I think it's healthy to talk about it and make rational decisions here," Eleanor shoots back, her voice suddenly nowhere near as soft as it usually is.

"I'm aware of all of this. I am not manufactured to fall in love. Love isn't real," Louis mumbles, and for the first time, he's sounding more broken than ever.

"Love isn't real? You can't fall in love? What the fuck was I then? I know you loved me at some point. You can't lie to yourself. You are so capable of love, warmth and happiness. You deserve it. You deserve to be happy," Eleanor retorts and suddenly she's moving closer to Louis, forcing him to maintain eye contact with her.

Louis doesn't even realise he's crying until her fingers brush softly underneath his eyes and remove the tears that are flowing. He's already hiccupping.

"I don't deserve it," The voice that comes out of his mouth is that of a completely broken man. The same man that endured countless beatings and a lifetime of trauma. "He doesn't deserve it. He's just a teenager. What the fuck have I done?"

It's a tidal wave and he leans forward and hides his face in his hands. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs as the guilt and pain renders him useless. It's when he feels Eleanor's arms wrap around him in a comforting embrace, he lets out a loud sob. All those minor cracks that had been starting to form in his shell were now completely shattered. There was nothing holding back the agony anymore.

"Why him? Out of anyone in the fucking world...why did it have to be him?" Louis yells in anguish, chest heaving as tears burn his cheeks.

"You can't help who you love,"

"It's not supposed to be like this. It's supposed to be simple. Nothing is fair. I don't want to do this anymore. When is life going to be fair to me?" Louis mumbles, tears falling at a rapid rate and chest aching with a newfound heartbreak. He feels himself being pulled back into the chair and Eleanor's tightens her grip whilst rubbing his back in a soothing manner.

The room surrounding him is filled with the sound of his broken cries, anguished screams and him begging for a way out of this. There was nothing more painful than watching the person you loved fall apart in front of your eyes. The worst part being there was nothing you could physically do to help but to be there and hold them tight.