Harry and Louis.
It doesn't happen how everyone expects it to. and everyone does expect it to; Harry and Louis are in love, unconditionally, truly, in love, the type of love that sings a melody on the perfect summers day; the type of love that lofted you up off of your feet, soaring high above the clouds, through clear blue sky. That was their love, and one day they'll realise and get together and the world would finally be at peace because Harry&Louis are in love. It should really happen, because honestly - the heart eyes, the lingering touches, soft breaths on trembling skin, a faint murmur, a whisper, a secret perhaps. It really should happen, but it doesn't, and maybe that's why Harry is the way he is.
Broken beyond repair.
--
"You need to eat Harry!" Louis insists, shoving a plateful of food towards the boy sat opposite him, who only ducks his head, pushing the plate away once more, sighing heavily. He hates having to see the glint of the gold engagement ring on Louis wedding finger, hates how it catches the light so perfectly. He doesn't know why though.
"'M not hungry Lou," he replies, and his voice sounds as tired as he looks. Rough, worn and stretched out. His vacant eyes are hooded, cheek-bones no longer natural looking, hollow and empty of colour. His hair is limp and lifeless as it sits in coarse curls on his head, hanging loosely above his ears. Louis groans in frustration, because his best mate hasn't eaten anything more than a sandwich a day for six weeks and that can't be healthy can it? Still, when Harry's not not eating, he's the same lively kid, maybe just a little - Louis can't put a finger on what's wrong with Harry, but something is definitely missing. Like a puzzle piece lost at the back of a closet perhaps.
"Wanna watch a film then Haz?" Louis suggests, and the younger of the two nods, smiling. Even that looks wrong, somehow.
They sit together on the sofa, Harry's head resting on Louis shoulder as they lounge together, limbs sprawled over one another as the film begins to play. Neither pay attention, both are deep in thought. Halfway through the film, Harry's head falls right onto Louis lap, and the older boy unthinkingly begins to thread his digits through the curly hair, soothingly. They stay like that for a while, silent except for the buzz of the film and the loud thump of their hearts (Harry&LouHarry&Lou&Harry&Lou) Because they're the same person. One soul trapped into two seperate bodies, but they feel everything the other feels and it hurts so much because right now Harry is hurting and Louis can feel that, it pulses through his body, like blood drumming in his head and he wants it to stop, he knows how to, but it's forbidden, he isn't allowed to tread in those waters weeks before his wedding to Eleanor.
Then a stray lock of Harry's hair catches on his gold wedding ring and Harry sits up, walking into his room without another word.
--
Wedding planning was the most stressful thing that had ever occurred to Louis, especially seeing as he was touring during most of it. Inbetween shows and interviews and signings, he was on and off the phone to venues, caterers, his mother, Eleanor's father, nearly everyone he knew kept his mobile off the hook as they rang up with question after question.
The media as well seemed highly interested in The biggest wedding of the century after Miley Hemsworth. Somehow (And it was a big somehow because even Louis was still unsure, he'd stayed so quiet) The media had gotten hold of the fact he'd proposed to Eleanor and it was the only topic that seemed to discuss.
Even the boys - barring Harry- were eager to know minor details, all congratulating Louis;
"Danielle looked so beautiful walking down the aisle, it really is the best feeling in the world Lou," Liam tells him earnestly and Louis nods, but can't help but think
('Can't be true, the best feeling in the world is sat up on the sofa on a friday night with Harry, not doing anything in particular, just being...Being...Louis&Harry.')
The only person who shows the least amount of interest in the wedding is Harry, and the older boy's grateful for that because he needs someone to talk to about normal things, but Harry's not so normal anymore.
Louis catches sight of him naked one day - a usual occurrence- but the sight of Harry's body causes Louis to draw in a sharp intake of breath. His skin is translucent almost, and Louis can count the bumps and ridges of his spine as clearly as he can the ridges of Harry's ribcage, which sticks out so eerily. He is all bone and no skin, no nothing. Without thinking, Louis stumbles forward, hand ghosting over pallid skin, both men holding their breaths. His fingers run down the dents of his spine, turning Harry around so they can cast over his jutting out collar bones. All the while Harry stands rigidly, barely breathing, jaw clenched so tightly Louis is scared he'l break it into two, or maybe he'll simply waft away - carried by the wind. Ormaybemaybemaybe he'll stop being, and then what will Louis do?
"Harry,Harry,Harry what are you doing to yourself?" Louis whispers, his breathing soft and gentle above Harry's bony figure, as if speaking too loudly will cause him to snap in half. Harry doesn't answer, instead he hugs Louis fiercely, pleadingly, but Louis can't hug back, he's too scared of breaking the fragile boy. Too scared of breaking himself. Because they are Harry&Louis.
--
"I'm worried about him too, he looks so much skinnier don't he?" Zayn's on the phone to Anne, who's just as anxious about her son, even more so. Louis looks up, and sighs, twiddling with the band on his finger.
"He's gone out, smoking - yeah he smokes now, I-Shit, maybe I wasn't meant to tell you that," Zayn rubs a hand tiredly over his face whilst Louis head snaps up. Harry smoking? He leaves the room wordlessly, until he's outside, eyes scanning the deserted road - almost deserted.
Harry's leaning against a brick wall, cigarette stuck between plump cherry lips, smoke swirling above him in a reckless cloud. The grey makes him look so ghost like it's frightening; he's so painfully beautiful it physically hurts to take in. He's like paper, thin and torn and crumpled round the edges.
"Didn't know you smoke," Louis says and Harry shrugs, letting the cigarette fall to the pavement.
"Want one?" He asks, smirking cruelly.
"Don't really wanna die thanks, besides, aren't you too young to smoke? You're like eleven, a baby," Louis says, half jokingly half truthfully.
"'M twenty Lou, hardly a kid thank you very much." Harry replies, but he's smiling slightly. Louis sighs. It's true, Harry's grown up, outwards, upwards, inwards, he's older and you can tell. But Louis wishes he wasn't, wishes the lines on Harry's forehead weren't there; lines that you only get once your innocence has been completely and utterly destroyed.
"You'll always be a baby to me Hazza," Louis tells him, reaching out to ruffle his curls.
"Hey, Lou's gonna kill me, took her an age to style this you knob," Harry protests and Louis pokes his tongue out.
"Took you an age, but me a lifetime, I know it hurts to have as sexy hair as mine H, but you're getting there, almost." Harry rolls his eyes, but doesn't reach for another cigarette so Louis breaths out, relieved.
"I'll have you know, it's my hair they all die for, sorry Lou, but grey doesn't take nicely with the ladies,"
"Grey hair is very sexy actually. But I don't have any! I'm twenty three Harry, not sixty, besides, you're the one who looks like a ghost, I can't have my bestman looking grey at my wedding." He means it as a joke, but as soon as the words leave his mouth, the light atmosphere vanishes, replaced by a dark ominous shadow. It falls over Harry too, and when he looks up, meeting Louis eyes again, he looks so lost.
"Best man?" He whispers, and then shakes his head.
"I was kidding, you're - you'r not grey,"
"I am,"
"I am."
--
As his wedding fast approaches, Louis spends more and more time with the curly haired lad. They'd sort of drifted, and now, the prospect of being married seemed to, in Louis mind, mean his time with Harry was limited, and was to be spent in the best of ways. Te two were not to be apart - they slept on the same bed, sat next to each other, ate together, they were, truly as one.
"I don't think it's such a good idea," Liam had warned but Louis was never one to have good ideas and threw off Liams comment as he takes Harry's cheeks, pinching them until they're finally red.
Niall watches them with wide eyes, laughing and occasionally joining in their banter.
"Irish people are my favourite you know Harry,"
"I'm not Irish though, so don't think they are Lou."
"I know, but Niall is, and he's my favourite."
"Aw tanks Lou,"
"Erm. He isn;t your best man, I am," Harry points out, the word 'bestman' said bitterly. But said all the same.
"Oh well, i could always change. Niall looks so much better in black anyway dollface, you can be my bridesmaid though?"
"I do have an affinity for bows and ribbons, so I shall take you up on that - when do we go shopping for my dress?"
"Pink really suits ya Harry,"
"Thanks Niall."
It's time like that, when Zayn groans at them for being idiotic and they all end up wrestling in a heap, even Liam, does Harry finally look alive and so Louis feels alive. But then Eleanor rings, and Louis goes red and excuses himself and Harry's smile vanishes, and all the colour drains from his face, leaving him open and transparent, and cold.
--
Larry Stylinson, a topic that once came up more times than necessary, is at it's peak in the papers. Everyone wants to know about Louis and Harry, the two so called straight men who may have feelings towards one another. But with a wedding - Louis- in the works, people are speculating more than ever. It's ridiculous, but somehow people say that Harry's distant and miserable looks are all down the fact that 'The love of his life is slipping from his fingers, why is Louis marrying her, she's wrong for him.'
Louis often skims through these posts, with a heavy heart and heavier lids as he reads through dozens of fans thoughts on him and Harry. They'd be shocked to know the truth - the two hadn't ever kissed, not even on a drunken escapade. Louis wonders if he wants them too - but shakes the thought off quickly. He's marrying Eleanor for fucks sake. It's one night before the wedding, and everyone's at their respective homes, sleeping soundly before the big day. Except, Louis can't. Instead he's up at 3am, stumbling through old photo's - way back before Eleanor, of he and the boys he and Harry. Waves of nostalgia and longing roll through him, and he longs for the soft touch of the curly hair and dimples. But Harry's fast alseep - that is until Louis hears muffled sobs through the closed bedroom door. It's Harry, Louis can feel the cries, they pull at his heart strings, claw at his stomach until he finds himself slowly opening the younger mans bedroom door and tiptoeing in.
The sobs cease.
"Harry?" Louis whispers, sitting down tentatively on the edge of the bed. Harry doesn't reply. the only sounds are his harsh breaths.
Louis tries again.
"Harry, love?" He fumbles for the light switch, and suddenly the room is dully lit by the flickering night lamp. Harry's face is buried in his pillow and Louis rubs at his back, a lump in his own throat.
"Don't Louis, d-d-don't make this harder okay," Harry whispers, his voice croaky and uneven.
"I-I don't get it Haz," Louis replies, but he stops rubbing what he thought were comforting circles on Harry's shaking shoulders.
"You're leaving tomorrow, living with her, leaving me," Louis sighs heavily because it's true and he gets it- partially. He and Harry have depended on one another for years and years and years, like an unsaid routine, a heartbreaking song, birds of a feather, everything and anything, Harry and Louis always were. And it never made sense to anyone, but it was true. You didn't get Harry without Louis hanging off the end, nor did you get Louis without Harry being somewhere close by. Only now he is leaving, and he suddenly doesn't want to because who's going to fix this broken boy? Instead of replying, Louis crawls in under the covers, and wraps his arms around Harry, who does the same, legs tangling and suddenly their holding onto to each other for dear life, for the last time.
--
When Louis wakes up bright and early the next day, there are no wedding bells in the air, only the blissful sound of Harry breathing, soft and gently into the crook of his neck, curls tickling his cheek, heart beating steadily.
--
Everyone is waiting behind the double doors. His whole family, all of his friends, famous and non famous, Eleanor's family and mutual friends. The boys; Niall, Zayn and Liam are all waiting for him and Harry, the best man at the altar. He only has about five minutes before he'll be a married man.
"Did you ever think their could of been an us?" Harry asks suddenly, and Louis heart clenches. He can't have this conversation. not here, not now, and now not ever.
But when he turns, a 'no' on his lips, and see's Harry, so heartbreakingly beautiful in his black sleek suit, and curls and lost green eyes he can no longer lie. So instead, he shrugs, sadly. He doesn't miss the hurt flash on Harry's tired features.
"I did, I mean- I always thought we were, we would, end up together," Harry laughs quietly, a broken sound, like a broken melody.
Louis feels it vibrating through him, and he bites his lip, almost tasting the metallic taste of blood.
"I'm sorry," Louis wants to say more, but instead trails off, eyes never leaving the green orbs. Harry nods, understandingly. Of course he understands, he understands Louis better than Louis understands himself for christ sake.
"Everyone else thought so too - my mum even had a talk with me, a gay talk, but I guess...We were wrong. I was wrong," His voice breaks and Louis clenches his eyes shut. Their silent for a moment, the only sound is their hearts, broken hearts
(Harry and Louis, Louis and Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry)
But then, an organ begins to play and this is Louis que and he needs this to stop so he opens his eyes and turns to Harry, jaw trembling.
"There could never be an Us Hazza," he says softly, and he hates himself as Harry's whole face crumbles.
"I'm marrying El, and you're my best man, my best friend, forever, and I love you so much, but there can't be Harry&Louis anymore, alright? I need you- I need you to take me through those doors and be strong Harry." He waits for the sob, but it never comes. Instead, nimble fingers tuck a bright red rose in his pocket, and then the doors open, and Louis strides out, Harry behind, at the altar. There are applauds and then silence as Eleanor enters and Louis heart stammers for a moment - stammers, not stops- because she is beautiful. A flower on a hot summers day, and he loves her so, so, so, much but this isn't the best feeling in the world.
No, the best feeling is being next to Harry, but even that's not feeling right. The best feeling, he concludes, as Eleanor takes her place next to him and the vicar begins to speak, is when he's at his flat, old flat, lying with Harry, just them and no one else. But he can't have that pleasure anymore, as he takes Eleanor's hand in one of his own. Harry hands him the rings and for a second their fingers brush and Louis almost lets go of Eleanor, almost. But then they're taking their vows and the crowd is cheering and he and Eleanor are kissing but out of the corner of his eye he can see Niall, Liam and Zayn hugging Harry tightly. He doesn't hate them for it - he thanks them, because he can't be there for Harry anymore.
It's not Harry&Lou like the world thought they'd end up. It's just Harry. and Just Lou. And Louis can feel their so called unbreakable bond slowly breaking, as the threads unravel the longer he kisses Eleanor he can physically feel himself being hurled away from Harry and he can't think, can't breath, can only listen, to the sounds around him and the unmistakable beat of Harry- No, Eleanor's heart beat wildly beneath his palm.
It beats LouisLouisLouis and Louis only hopes that one day his heart will stop playing Harry's song, and finally beat Eleanor.
Because Harry and Louis were no more.