***Harry Styles***
Tuesday, April 10th, 2012 – North London, England

I ran over to Louis as he banged his fist on the back of the door once his mom walked out. I put my hand on his shoulder and tried to spin him into me, but he shook his head and shrugged out of my grip, falling to the floor on his knees, sobbing, his face in his hands.

“Lou,” I said gently, then bent down behind him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, my chest pressed against his back.

“I hate her!” he cried. “I’ve never hated anyone before but I hate her, Harry, I do!”

“I know you do,” I soothed. “You have every right to.” I worried about Louis sometimes – he just thought everyone in the world was a good person, almost to a point of naivety. I had a feeling this wasn’t the first time he’d gotten burned because of it, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. I hated that I wasn’t able to protect him from it. I couldn’t bear to see him in a heap on the floor like that, but I knew he didn’t quite have the strength to stand, so I pulled him to his feet under his arms and helped him over to the couch. He sat down, his face still in his hands, and I sat down next to him, my arm around his shoulders, and he teetered over, burying his face against my chest. I stroked the back of his head. “Shh, Love, it’s alright,” I said. We both knew it wasn’t alright, though – Louis’s heart had been ripped out and stomped on by his own family for the second time in just a few months, and there was nothing I could do about it. I just hoped he wasn’t mad at me for sticking up to his mom the way I had – but it’s what I would’ve wanted him to do if the roles had been reversed.

We sat there like that for awhile, me just holding him and stroking his hair, as he gradually began to calm down. He was holding tightly onto his stomach, though, as though he’d physically fall apart if he let go of it.

“Come on,” I said, kissing the top of his head. “Let me make you some dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said, quietly.

“You’ll feel better if you eat,” I told him, and made to stand up, but he pulled me back down on the couch.

“Just, don’t leave me alone yet,” he pleaded. I loved that he needed me but I hated the reason for why he did.

“Okay,” I nodded, and sat back down, this time putting my arm around him and he tucked his head between my neck and shoulder. After awhile, he fell asleep – probably exhausted from crying so hard – so I carefully stood up and stuck a pillow under Louis’s head as I guided him to lay down. I put a blanket over him then went into the kitchen to make some dinner.

I remembered how much my mom had helped Louis’s through this last time, and while I knew we couldn’t very well drive to her house and be back in time for the flight in the morning, I did know that Louis responded well to being surrounded by people who loved him. As confident as he came off, he needed the reassurance and attention of those he admired, which happened to be our band mates. I sent a text to the three of them, telling them a brief version of what had happened, and then asked if they could come over, promising I’d have dinner for them. All three of them replied saying they were on their way, so I got to cooking. I saw them pull up and went to the door before they rang the bell so they didn’t wake Louis, and I quietly ushered them into the kitchen while dinner was in the oven. I told them what had happened with Louis’s mom, and how broken Louis was over it. Zayn was pissed when he heard the story – they all were, but Zayn was visibly shaking his head and gritting his teeth.

“I worry about him,” I told the guys once I was done explaining the story. “He’s so naïve, so trusting, and then he gets his heart broken like this.”

“We’re gonna take care of him,” Liam promised me. “He knows he has us.”

“Yeah, Harry, he’s gonna be alright,” Zayn added. “Louis’s tough.” I nodded. I knew they were right, but it was still hard to see Louis – the oldest, the most stable of us – like that.

The timer on the oven went off, and I pulled out the lasagna. Niall set the table, and I went into the living room, where my gorgeous boyfriend was still sleeping on the couch. I knelt down in front of him and kissed him on the lips. His eyes opened after a minute, and then he kissed me back. I stroked his hair.

“The guys all came over for dinner,” I told him in a gentle tone. “You hungry yet?” Louis nodded and sat up. “I hope you don’t mind, but, I told them what happened.” As I said that, the guys all walked in the room, solemn looks on their faces. Louis looked at them.

“We’re so sorry, Lou,” Liam said, and walked over to where Louis and I were. Louis stood up, and Liam hugged him, then Zayn and Niall took turns hugging him as well.

“We’re all here for you,” Niall reminded him as he let go.

“Thanks, guys, that means a lot,” Louis said. I could tell he was trying really hard to stay upbeat and positive. I wanted to remind him that he didn’t have to put on an act – these guys would understand if he needed to have a bad day once in awhile. But he was Louis, and having a bad day to him meant showing signs of vulnerability, and that meant feelings were involved. And if anyone hated feelings, it was Louis Tomlinson.