Call Me Baby: Chapter 11
“No, get that thing away from me-no,” Louis scrambled hastily away from the doctor, scooting down the bench and pressing back against Harry, who chuckled at his friend’s reaction, “Last time that made me pass out-do you want a repeat performance?”
“Louis, calm down,” Harry said, grinning down at his distraught friend, “Honestly, those things can’t cut skin.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Louis hissed, glaring up at Harry, but turning more into his embrace nonetheless, “He’s not actually going to remove my cast, he just wants to make me think he is, and then he’s going to cut off my arm and use it for scientific experimentation!”
“Loony, you’re being a bit paranoid, don’t you think?” Harry asked, stroking Louis’ left side gently, “I’ll prove it to you, look.” Harry nodded at the doctor, who shrugged, turning on the small saw. Harry stuck his arm out and Louis shrieked, yanking Harry’s arm back and clinging to it.
“No,” Louis yelped hysterically, “You’re not hurting him!”
“No, you’re right, Lou,” Harry smiled, leaning down to revert Louis’ attention from the doctor, to him, “He’s not hurting me. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t know for sure it wouldn’t hurt me. Let me show you, Louis.”
Hesitantly, Louis let go of Harry’s arm. Harry reached out again, holding it palm up, as the doctor switched the saw back on. Louis watched in utter horror as the machine neared Harry’s skin, wincing as at the blade touched down. Where he expected blood and naked flesh, he found nothing out of the ordinary. Harry looked down at Louis as he slowly sat up, eyes never leaving Harry’s arm.
“How did-I mean-how does that even make sense?” Louis asked, finally turning to face Harry, his face a mask of confusion, “How-I don’t understand.”
“The saw is made so it only cuts certain things. How else would they remove casts without injuring people further?” Harry gave Louis a pointed look, “Will you let him take your cast off, now?”
“I-I suppose…” Louis mumbled, “But-can you-I mean, will you-uh… Hold my hand?”
Harry smiled softly at him, reaching around to grasp his good hand. Louis took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and holding out his casted arm. The doctor moved forward, turning the saw on for the third time. Louis clutched at Harry’s hand, whimpering slightly and pressing his face into Harry’s shirt as he felt the machine come in contact with his cast. He heard Harry hiss beneath him as his grip tightened, his nails pinching the skin of Harry’s hand.
Then, suddenly, the pressure stopped. His arm was cold, and felt wet. He grimaced, turning further into Harry’s embrace, unwilling to look at his, presumably, mangled arm.
“Louis,” Harry whispered into his friend’s hair, “It’s okay, look-you’re a free man!”
Louis slowly turned, creaking an eyelid open to gaze down at his now castless arm. There was a scar running up the side of it, from the shattered window, but he was otherwise unharmed. His grip on Harry’s hand slowly loosened, and he looked up at his smiling friend.
“Told you it wouldn’t hurt,” Harry smirked, earning a light smack on the chest from Louis’ newly freed arm, “And now you can do that! Don’t you regret not letting them do it last time?”
“It was hardly my choice,” Louis retorted, glaring, “I fainted-and that burst my stiches and blah blah blah you know the story. I probably wouldn’t have fainted if you had been there.”
“Hey, I offered to take you! But Zayn really wanted to, and you were perfectly willing to let him-don’t blame this on me, Loony,” Harry told him teasingly. Louis rolled his eyes, turning to the doctor who was waiting patiently for their attention to return to him.
“I’ll need to see you again in a few weeks to make sure everything’s alright, and if you feel any pain you should come back in immediately,” the doctor gave him a stern look, “Do you have any questions?”
Louis shook his head, eyes wide as he looked at the doctor’s slightly severe face. He heard Harry answer in the negative above him, and then he was being helped off the bench. Harry bid the doctor good-bye, as it seemed Louis was incapable of doing, and pulled him out the door by their still joined hands. Louis let himself be pulled along, examining his newly freed arm. The skin was paler than that of the rest of his arm, and the hair had turned dark. It was quite surreal for him, looking down and seeing his bare arm, where for the passed eight weeks he’d had a bright orange cast. He turned his arm over, inspecting the length of the scar. It began on the top of his forearm, trailing thickly over the skin until it curled under his arm, ending faintly just beneath his elbow.
He looked up as they exited the building, broken out of the contemplation of his skin by the harsh sunlight. Harry still hadn’t let go of his hand, although he wasn’t pulling him along as much anymore. He fought back a flush, peaking up at Harry through his eyelashes. Harry noticed his gaze, turning to look at his friend and smiling.
“When do you start work again?” Harry asked, noticing Louis’ suddenly awkward expression. Louis looked startled at the unexpected question, but smiled once he realized that Harry was just making conversation.
“Monday,” Louis answered cheerily, “I have the rest of the week off, because Simon wants to make sure I’m completely healed before I go back. Plus, I need to build up the strength in my wrist again.”
“’Course,” Harry agreed, “Mum’s leaving on-what’s tomorrow, Tuesday? She’s leaving on Tuesday.”
“Oh, okay,” Louis scuffed his foot along the tarmac a bit as he walked, “Shame. I liked having her around.”
“Me too,” Harry smiled, pleased, “The girls are going to be devastated.”
“Oh no,” Louis groaned, “I hadn’t even thought about that-Georgia’s going to flip a shit.”
“Well, I mean, it’s not like she’s that far away,” Harry reasoned, “She lives on the other side of town.”
“Yeah, but the girls aren’t going to see it that way,” Louis explained, rubbing this forehead wearily, “It’s going to be like she’s leaving forever.”
“We’ll deal with it,” Harry told him, reaching into his pockets for his keys as they neared the car, “And she can always come back to visit, or something.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Louis sighed, watching as Harry unlocked the car, “It’ll be a lot easier explaining this than it was to tell them my mum and dad weren’t coming back.”
“Louis,” Harry stopped, turning around to look at his friend sadly. Louis smiled a bit, shaking his head.
“It’s fine, Harry,” he gave him a reassuring smile, “I’m fine. Sometimes things just slip out, you know? You’re not always aware that you’re thinking them, but then the words are on your tongue and it’s too late to stop them.”
He released Harry’s hand, turning quickly and getting into the passenger’s seat, effectively ending the conversation. Harry sighed at his friend’s actions, frustrated that he was so unwilling to talk about his feelings. He knew, however, that pushing him would only lead to Louis shutting him out entirely-and he wouldn’t risk that. Louis would come to him in his own time.
With that thought safely tucked into his heart, he opened the driver’s side door and clambered into the car.
*~*~*~*
“Ew, it looks weird,” Daisy wrinkled her nose, eying her brother’s arm, “Why is it all small and pale?”
“Because it’s been in a cast for weeks, Daisy,” Louis chuckled, “It hasn’t been used properly, nor has it seen the sun at all-that’s what happens.”
“Will it go back to normal, ever?” Phoebe piped up, wide-eyed. Louis grinned, tweaking her nose affectionately.
“Of course it will,” he answered, “It probably won’t even take that long, either.”
“Does this mean you’re going back to work soon?” Georgia asked, her face slightly forlorn, “I like having you home all the time.”
“I do have to go to work, Georgia,” Louis told her, “Because we need the money. But it’s not like I’m never home-most of the time that I’m out, you’re at school.”
“Except for on weekends when you leave Lottie in charge,” Georgia mumbled petulantly. Louis sighed, tapping her knee to get her attention.
“Well, now that Harry’s living with us-”
“What do you mean ‘now that Harry’s living with us’?” Louis looked up to see Lottie standing in the doorway, a hesitantly hopeful look on her face. Louis wincecd.
“Did we not tell you guys?” His question was met with blank stares, “No? Well, Harry’s moved in.”
“Wait, ‘moved’? Like, past tense? Like, he’s already moved in?” A grin bloomed on Lottie’s face, and Louis nodded.
“Yeah, his stuff’s in our bedroom,” Louis said, unable to contain a small smile at his sister’s evident glee.
“Our? You’re sharing the bedroom?” Lottie squealed happily, “I knew it! I knew you were together!”
“I-Lottie, no, we’re not-” Louis shook his head, fighting back a blush that threatened to color his cheeks, “We’re not together. We just decided that, since he’s wormed his way into our life, he should just come live here. I could use the help, yeah? And he likes being around you guys, so…”
“Aw, is Loony embarrassed?” Lottie teased, “It’s alright, Lou, we don’t mind that you and Harry want to be together.”
“I-Lottie, no, that’s not how it is, okay?” Louis sighed, “Harry doesn’t want to be with me, we’re just friends.”
“But you want to be with him, then?” Lottie asked carefully, aware that she was treading on thin ice. Louis winced at his slip up.
“I-uh-never said that,” he tried. Lottie gave him a pointed look, wordlessly telling him what she thought of that response. He sighed again, “I… I wouldn’t say ‘no’, if he asked.”
“I knew it!” Lottie laughed brilliantly, “I absolutely knew it!”
“Lottie,” Louis hushed her frantically, “can you not announce it to the entire world, please?”
“Why not?” Lottie asked, still grinning, “Now you can be together!”
“Well, no, we can’t,” Louis told her, “Harry doesn’t want me-I’m pretty sure he’s straight, anyway.”
“Straight?” Lottie let out a derisive snort, “Lou, what heterosexual male do you know who willingly shares a bed with his best friend for extended periods of time?”
“Liam and Zayn!” Louis exclaimed triumphantly, “They share a bed all the time!”
“They’re together, Louis,” Lottie informed him exasperatedly, “I think you knew that, to be honest.”
“A little,” Louis admitted, “But that doesn’t change the fact that Harry obviously isn’t interested in me, okay?”
“Wow,” Lottie shook her head incredulously, “You-you really are oblivious.”
“What? How?”
“Louis, honestly, if you can’t tell by now that Harry is hopelessly in love with you, and has been pretty much since you met, then I don’t know how to show you that he is,” Lottie explained, “Other than him telling you outright, of course. But it doesn’t look like he’s going to do that, so… You’re gonna have to make the first move, here.”
“I can’t,” Louis told her desperately, “I can’t risk it.”
“Why?” Lottie asked, getting a bit angry, “Why can’t you? Broken hearts heal, Louis, you’d get over it!”
“It’s not just that!” Louis cried, “It’s alsot the fact that if I tell him I’m in love with him, and he rejects me, then he won’t want to be my friend anymore-at the very least he won’t want to live here, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t lose him, Lottie.”
“Lose who?” Louis’ head shot up as Harry came into the living room, a confused smile on his face.
“No one, Harry-just forget you heard that,” Louis smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, but he felt numb. If Harry had walked in a few moments earlier, he would have heard everything, and that thought scared Louis. Harry frowned, coming over to sit next to him on the couch, arm automatically going to rest around Louis’ shoulders.
“Are you sure, Louis?” He asked, “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I’m sure, thank you,” Louis nodded, “Were you talking to your mum?”
“Yeah,” Harry sighed a little bit, “What’re we doing about dinner?”
“We could go out,” Louis suggested, “Since it’s your mum’s last night with us, and I just got my cast off-good way to celebrate and thank her for her help, yeah?”
“Sure, sounds good,” Harry agreed tiredly, “I don’t think any of us feel much like cooking, to be honest.”
*~*~*~*
“Alright, ladies, time for bed,” Louis ordered as he untied Daisy’s shoe, Harry helping Phoebe with her coat. He was met with groans all around, and he grinned a little bit, “If you ask nicely, Grandma Annemay agree to read you a story.”
Anne fought to hide a smile as she pretended to consider it, the girls all clamoring for her to “please, please, please read us a story!”. In the end, she nodded, herding the girls upstairs into Harry and Louis’ room, where the all piled onto the bed around her as she read.
Harry and Louis, on the other hand, moved to the kitchen, where Louis pulled out two glasses of wine. He gestured in offering, and Harry nodded gratefully.
“All I’ve got is white,” Louis informed him, but Harry shook his head.
“That’s fine, I’m good with whatever,” Harry sighed. Louis pulled out the bottle, uncorking it swiftly and pouring liberal amounts of the alcohol into the two glasses. He handed one to Harry, before sitting down heavily next to his friend on a stool.
“To your mum,” Louis said, raising his glass with a tired smirk, “May she live forever. Bless her.”
“Amen to that,” Harry grinned, taking a sip of his wine in tadem with Louis. They sat in comfortable silence after that, casually sipping their wine as they lost themselves in their own thoughts. They were startled out of their thoughts as Anne walked into the kitchen. She smiled at them, gesturing behind her.
“’Send Daddy and Louis up to say ‘goodnight’, please’,” Anne said, “I’ve distributed them to their respective beds, but they want their goodnight kisses.”
“I’ll go first,” Louis said, knocking back the last of his wine before standing up and patting Harry’s knee as he passed him, “You stay and finish that at your own pace, love.”
“Thanks, Lou,” Harry smiled gratefully, turning back to his mum as his friend exited the room, “What’s that look for?”
“You two are so domestic,” Anne told him exasperatedly, “Speaking of, we never finished that conversation the other day.”
“What conversation?” Harry asked innocently, ducking behind his wine glass as he took another sip. Anne rolled her eyes.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Harry,” Anne told him sternly, “I’m your mother, I know things. So, tell me: are you or aren’t you in love with Louis?”
“I-” Harry began to protest, before sighing, staring into his wine glass as though it held the secrets to the universe, “Yeah, I am.”
“So, then, are you together, or what?” Anne asked gleefully. Harry laughed bitterly.
“No,” he answered, “Because he’s not in love with me, so, that’s not happening.”
“You’re frustrating,” Anne told him flatly, “He is in love with you, okay? Please, end all of our misery, and tell the lad before I lock you two in a closet.”
“I would, mum, but I can’t risk scaring him off,” Harry shook his head, “I’m happy, okay? I’m happy being his friend. I don’t need more from him.”
“You will,” Anne said sadly, “You may think you’re fine now, but eventually, it won’t be enough. I don’t want you to reach that point, Harry. I want you to be happy. If you reach that point, you won’t be happy, and it won’t be fixable.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Louis said carefully, entering the kitchen slowly, “But they’re ready for you.”
“Oh, okay,” Harry left quickly, not making eye contact with his friend. Anne watched Louis watch Harry. Once Harry was out of earshot, Anne turned to Louis.
“You heard, didn’t you,” she asked, although it wasn’t a question, and they both knew it. Louis sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Make good use of this information, Louis,” Anne instructed, “Don’t waste this.”
Continued here