In My Veins - Chapter 10
pairing: arry/Louis
rating: ature
summary: arry Styles is an arrogant pop star who has fallen into a black hole of drugs and self-loathing. Dr. Louis Tomlinson is hired to fix the unfixable; but not if Harry has any say in it. Coauthored wit onedirection5 she writes even numbered chapters, I write odd).
This chapter written by Shea.
Quiet moans escalating to louder cries, rough hands touching smooth skin, hearts beating louder than words softly whispered, raw need coursing through veins as the desire to feel and touch outweighed the desire to talk and think. Focus. Harry’s mind screamed as he tried desperately to retain some semblance of self-preservation, even while losing himself completely to the touch of the lean and gentle body of the man above him. Don’t lose control. Harry’s mind warned as he broke apart beneath the man, shattering even while the feeling of wholeness started to creep in.
With a gasp, Harry jolted awake in his empty flat apartment, the desolation of the room nothing compared to the emptiness he felt within his chest.
~
“Louis. Louis. Lou. Lou. Louehhh. Louehhh. Boo Be...”
“What the fuck, Liam?” Louis angrily demanded, cutting off his mate before he could finish uttering the horribly embarrassing nickname given to him long ago by his mother, and only recently discovered by Liam.
“That’s supposed to be my question, actually, mate. You’ve been sitting there staring off into space for about ten minutes now. For God's’ sake, you’ve completely ignored your tea, which never happens. What’s going on, Lou? Lover’s tiff with Harry? You haven’t spoken a word since you came storming into the flat yesterday.”
“It’s nothi...”
“You guys fucked, didn’t you?” Liam interrupted, a smirk creeping onto his face.
“Li...”
“Ohmygodyoutotallyfuckediknewityayforlouis!” Liam squealed, flailing over the fact that his mate and Harry were finally recognizing their already-apparent feelings for each other.
“...no need to look so damn smug about it...” Louis mumbled, burying his head in his hands.
“But...this is great! You guys can finally be together and then you and Harry and me and Niall can double date and then finally we can actually eat some good food because no offense, but you’re terrible in the kitchen and I can’t deal with spoons so this is fantastic, oh wow, have you called your mum...”
“He fucking kicked me out, Liam.”
“Oh.” Liam, for once, was at a loss for words.
“Oh? Oh, is all you have say? Really, Liam? Because I have a lot to say. A fucking lot to say and I’m going to just go for it now, since I have nothing to lose. I’ve already lost it all anyway. This probably breaks all rules of doctor/patient protocol bullshit, but then again, I’m pretty sure I already broke it by fucking my client so why not lay it all out on the table?”
Louis continued without taking a breath. “I have feelings for Harry Styles. My client Harry Styles. The famous fucking singer Harry Styles. The completely dysfunctional Harry Styles who apparently hates me again. And I thought we were making progress. I thought that maybe he was getting his act together and that he was finally on the road to recovery. But then, he goes and fucks everything up by shooting up again. And why, all of a sudden? Has he somehow figured out his therapist’s less-than-honorable intentions towards him and he’s just become so disgusted by it that he wants catharsis in order to avoid the horror of it all? And then, Niall calls me and tells me that Harry needs me, which is the biggest surprise of all because the big bad Harry Styles would never admit to needing anyone. But then I go and he’s been trying, I can tell, truly trying. He’s cut himself off from drugs, but it’s too intense, too abrupt, and he’s a shaking crumbling mess and all I know is that I need to hold him, to protect him. But then, just holding him isn’t enough, and even while it all feels like it’s too much, I push him farther, past the prying eyes of the public where this kind of relationship is frowned upon, because all I want to do is help. But then, it’s just all Harry everywhere and I feel like breaking, but he’s already done enough of that, so instead I try focusing on this perfect person I’m holding in my arms and then I’m falling. But, not really, because I fell the first time he smiled and I saw those stupid dimples. And when I wake up, he’s there. Only, not really. He’s scared and defensive and he asks if this was all part of the “therapy” and I feel so disgusted because god no it was never that. And I want to hold him, but he won’t let me. He’s already drawing away, closing off, and I barely got the chance to show him how I feel. So, I walk away. Because Harry thinks he doesn’t need anyone. Even that worked so fucking well for him in the past.”
Louis trailed off while the tears slowly tracked their way down his crumpled face. Utter despair etched its way into his features as his shoulders slumped, and he once again buried his face in his hands.
“Wow.” Was all Liam could manage to say, not very eloquent, but the words seemed to have all been taken up by Louis’ grand speech. Wordlessly, he got up from his seat at the table and gripped the older lad’s shoulder, drawing him into a tight embrace, hoping to relieve his mate of all the hurt that he was so clearly feeling.
Louis allowed himself for one minute to melt into the warm and welcome and friendly embrace, before quietly whispering, “Thanks, Li.”
~
Harry was recovering.
Oh, not from the broken heart. No, that would take years, maybe forever, to get over that. But, the drugs were gone. Alcohol was taken in moderation, and rarely. The long stream of girls, and the occasional lad, had stopped making their way way in and out of his flat.
The 19 year-olds’ skin had taken on a more healthy shade, leaving behind the horrid grey tone that had long marked it. His voice had returned to its’ former tone, deep and strong; in fact, it had taken on an even greater pitch, displayed a new haunting note, a reflection into his heart that only showed when he sang. Harry’s relationship with Niall grew, as the two lads returned to their old habits of playful banter, of stupid arguments over meaningless subjects, and of collaborating on a new sound of music, a new sound of Harry. He found himself writing much of the lyrics for his songs completely on his own, ignoring the fact that much of his inspiration came from a certain person whom he hadn’t seen for a week now, since he had convinced Syco to drop his sessions with Dr. Tomlinson.
Harry ignored the pang in his heart even while he realized that none of this progress would have been achieved had it not been for Louis.
~
“Dr. Tomlinson? It’s Syco Music Industry. We are calling on behalf of our client, Harry Styles. We would like to thank you very much for all your contribution towards his recovery and to inform you that Mr. Styles no longer requires the use of you and your services. We have sent your final paycheck along with our sincerest appreciation for your help with our client. Have a good day.”
Louis replayed his conversation from a week ago over and over in his head. Mr. Styles no longer requires the use of your services. Mr. Styles no longer requires the use of you. Mr. Styles no longer requires you.
Harry may have been “fixed” but Louis felt like he was breaking.
~
“Hey Niall?” Harry tentatively called to his mate, who was currently lounging on the sofa of his flat, guitar in hand, lazily strumming along.
“Yeh, mate?” Niall called, distractedly playing a few chords.
“I’m writing a song.”
“Really?” Niall eagerly broke out of his reverie, amazed by Harry’s admission.
“Yeah. And I went to Simon and asked him if we could book a venue, so he found a small club where I can perform, you know, baby steps...and I was just wondering...”
“Spit it out, man!”
“Could you help me?”
~
Two weeks. Two weeks since Harry had seen Louis. Two weeks since Harry had watched the older lad walk out of his flat. Two weeks since Harry had watched his own heart go with the doctor.
“Harry? Alright, mate?” Niall’s voice sounded from the couch in the studio, where they were currently working on Harry’s newest song. He had written it himself and it had the most meaning to him of all the songs he had ever sung.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine, mate.”
“Great. Then let’s hurry up and get this song worked out. I need to get out of here by 6 to meet Liam at Nando’s.”
~
Liam quietly entered the apartment, hoping not to disturb Louis, seeing as the lad had already not had enough sleep these past two weeks as it was.
“Li?” Louis’ voice called from the sofa in the living room.
“Hey, Lou. How are ya feeling? You look like right shit. Better get your act together by the time Harry performs tomorrow night.”
“Wait, what did you just say?” Louis’ words were long and drawn, matching the expression of hurt on his face.
“I said, Harry’s performing tomorrow night, and you’d better be there. Now, go to sleep right now while I work out your schedule for tomorrow. You need to get a haircut, maybe head to the gym, for god’s sake, they have these things called showers, Lou...” Liam trailed off, while Louis remained frozen in place, reflecting on what Liam had just remarked.
“...Harry’s...performing? On stage? Wha...Whe...How?”
“Seems to me like a certain therapist may have helped him get back on the right track...hmmm? Niall mentioned it to me at dinner tonight. He said that this performance would be Harry’s best yet, and Harry would want you to be there, even if he won’t admit it. Niall even gave me a pass to give to you so that you would be able to get in.”
Louis’ mouth was agape, as he tried to process everything that Liam was throwing out at him.
All he managed was, “You and Niall...?”
Liam burst out a laugh, deciding to forgive his friend on account of the boy being stupidly blinded by his misery, and his heart lifted at the thought that maybe Louis could begin to heal.
rating: ature
summary: arry Styles is an arrogant pop star who has fallen into a black hole of drugs and self-loathing. Dr. Louis Tomlinson is hired to fix the unfixable; but not if Harry has any say in it. Coauthored wit onedirection5 she writes even numbered chapters, I write odd).
This chapter written by Shea.
Quiet moans escalating to louder cries, rough hands touching smooth skin, hearts beating louder than words softly whispered, raw need coursing through veins as the desire to feel and touch outweighed the desire to talk and think. Focus. Harry’s mind screamed as he tried desperately to retain some semblance of self-preservation, even while losing himself completely to the touch of the lean and gentle body of the man above him. Don’t lose control. Harry’s mind warned as he broke apart beneath the man, shattering even while the feeling of wholeness started to creep in.
With a gasp, Harry jolted awake in his empty flat apartment, the desolation of the room nothing compared to the emptiness he felt within his chest.
~
“Louis. Louis. Lou. Lou. Louehhh. Louehhh. Boo Be...”
“What the fuck, Liam?” Louis angrily demanded, cutting off his mate before he could finish uttering the horribly embarrassing nickname given to him long ago by his mother, and only recently discovered by Liam.
“That’s supposed to be my question, actually, mate. You’ve been sitting there staring off into space for about ten minutes now. For God's’ sake, you’ve completely ignored your tea, which never happens. What’s going on, Lou? Lover’s tiff with Harry? You haven’t spoken a word since you came storming into the flat yesterday.”
“It’s nothi...”
“You guys fucked, didn’t you?” Liam interrupted, a smirk creeping onto his face.
“Li...”
“Ohmygodyoutotallyfuckediknewityayforlouis!” Liam squealed, flailing over the fact that his mate and Harry were finally recognizing their already-apparent feelings for each other.
“...no need to look so damn smug about it...” Louis mumbled, burying his head in his hands.
“But...this is great! You guys can finally be together and then you and Harry and me and Niall can double date and then finally we can actually eat some good food because no offense, but you’re terrible in the kitchen and I can’t deal with spoons so this is fantastic, oh wow, have you called your mum...”
“He fucking kicked me out, Liam.”
“Oh.” Liam, for once, was at a loss for words.
“Oh? Oh, is all you have say? Really, Liam? Because I have a lot to say. A fucking lot to say and I’m going to just go for it now, since I have nothing to lose. I’ve already lost it all anyway. This probably breaks all rules of doctor/patient protocol bullshit, but then again, I’m pretty sure I already broke it by fucking my client so why not lay it all out on the table?”
Louis continued without taking a breath. “I have feelings for Harry Styles. My client Harry Styles. The famous fucking singer Harry Styles. The completely dysfunctional Harry Styles who apparently hates me again. And I thought we were making progress. I thought that maybe he was getting his act together and that he was finally on the road to recovery. But then, he goes and fucks everything up by shooting up again. And why, all of a sudden? Has he somehow figured out his therapist’s less-than-honorable intentions towards him and he’s just become so disgusted by it that he wants catharsis in order to avoid the horror of it all? And then, Niall calls me and tells me that Harry needs me, which is the biggest surprise of all because the big bad Harry Styles would never admit to needing anyone. But then I go and he’s been trying, I can tell, truly trying. He’s cut himself off from drugs, but it’s too intense, too abrupt, and he’s a shaking crumbling mess and all I know is that I need to hold him, to protect him. But then, just holding him isn’t enough, and even while it all feels like it’s too much, I push him farther, past the prying eyes of the public where this kind of relationship is frowned upon, because all I want to do is help. But then, it’s just all Harry everywhere and I feel like breaking, but he’s already done enough of that, so instead I try focusing on this perfect person I’m holding in my arms and then I’m falling. But, not really, because I fell the first time he smiled and I saw those stupid dimples. And when I wake up, he’s there. Only, not really. He’s scared and defensive and he asks if this was all part of the “therapy” and I feel so disgusted because god no it was never that. And I want to hold him, but he won’t let me. He’s already drawing away, closing off, and I barely got the chance to show him how I feel. So, I walk away. Because Harry thinks he doesn’t need anyone. Even that worked so fucking well for him in the past.”
Louis trailed off while the tears slowly tracked their way down his crumpled face. Utter despair etched its way into his features as his shoulders slumped, and he once again buried his face in his hands.
“Wow.” Was all Liam could manage to say, not very eloquent, but the words seemed to have all been taken up by Louis’ grand speech. Wordlessly, he got up from his seat at the table and gripped the older lad’s shoulder, drawing him into a tight embrace, hoping to relieve his mate of all the hurt that he was so clearly feeling.
Louis allowed himself for one minute to melt into the warm and welcome and friendly embrace, before quietly whispering, “Thanks, Li.”
~
Harry was recovering.
Oh, not from the broken heart. No, that would take years, maybe forever, to get over that. But, the drugs were gone. Alcohol was taken in moderation, and rarely. The long stream of girls, and the occasional lad, had stopped making their way way in and out of his flat.
The 19 year-olds’ skin had taken on a more healthy shade, leaving behind the horrid grey tone that had long marked it. His voice had returned to its’ former tone, deep and strong; in fact, it had taken on an even greater pitch, displayed a new haunting note, a reflection into his heart that only showed when he sang. Harry’s relationship with Niall grew, as the two lads returned to their old habits of playful banter, of stupid arguments over meaningless subjects, and of collaborating on a new sound of music, a new sound of Harry. He found himself writing much of the lyrics for his songs completely on his own, ignoring the fact that much of his inspiration came from a certain person whom he hadn’t seen for a week now, since he had convinced Syco to drop his sessions with Dr. Tomlinson.
Harry ignored the pang in his heart even while he realized that none of this progress would have been achieved had it not been for Louis.
~
“Dr. Tomlinson? It’s Syco Music Industry. We are calling on behalf of our client, Harry Styles. We would like to thank you very much for all your contribution towards his recovery and to inform you that Mr. Styles no longer requires the use of you and your services. We have sent your final paycheck along with our sincerest appreciation for your help with our client. Have a good day.”
Louis replayed his conversation from a week ago over and over in his head. Mr. Styles no longer requires the use of your services. Mr. Styles no longer requires the use of you. Mr. Styles no longer requires you.
Harry may have been “fixed” but Louis felt like he was breaking.
~
“Hey Niall?” Harry tentatively called to his mate, who was currently lounging on the sofa of his flat, guitar in hand, lazily strumming along.
“Yeh, mate?” Niall called, distractedly playing a few chords.
“I’m writing a song.”
“Really?” Niall eagerly broke out of his reverie, amazed by Harry’s admission.
“Yeah. And I went to Simon and asked him if we could book a venue, so he found a small club where I can perform, you know, baby steps...and I was just wondering...”
“Spit it out, man!”
“Could you help me?”
~
Two weeks. Two weeks since Harry had seen Louis. Two weeks since Harry had watched the older lad walk out of his flat. Two weeks since Harry had watched his own heart go with the doctor.
“Harry? Alright, mate?” Niall’s voice sounded from the couch in the studio, where they were currently working on Harry’s newest song. He had written it himself and it had the most meaning to him of all the songs he had ever sung.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine, mate.”
“Great. Then let’s hurry up and get this song worked out. I need to get out of here by 6 to meet Liam at Nando’s.”
~
Liam quietly entered the apartment, hoping not to disturb Louis, seeing as the lad had already not had enough sleep these past two weeks as it was.
“Li?” Louis’ voice called from the sofa in the living room.
“Hey, Lou. How are ya feeling? You look like right shit. Better get your act together by the time Harry performs tomorrow night.”
“Wait, what did you just say?” Louis’ words were long and drawn, matching the expression of hurt on his face.
“I said, Harry’s performing tomorrow night, and you’d better be there. Now, go to sleep right now while I work out your schedule for tomorrow. You need to get a haircut, maybe head to the gym, for god’s sake, they have these things called showers, Lou...” Liam trailed off, while Louis remained frozen in place, reflecting on what Liam had just remarked.
“...Harry’s...performing? On stage? Wha...Whe...How?”
“Seems to me like a certain therapist may have helped him get back on the right track...hmmm? Niall mentioned it to me at dinner tonight. He said that this performance would be Harry’s best yet, and Harry would want you to be there, even if he won’t admit it. Niall even gave me a pass to give to you so that you would be able to get in.”
Louis’ mouth was agape, as he tried to process everything that Liam was throwing out at him.
All he managed was, “You and Niall...?”
Liam burst out a laugh, deciding to forgive his friend on account of the boy being stupidly blinded by his misery, and his heart lifted at the thought that maybe Louis could begin to heal.