(Harry’s POV)
The next two weeks fly by. Louis and I are closer than ever, kisses cuter, sex better, everything more intimate. Our tour goes amazingly, each show better than the last. Louis and I dance on stage together, serenade each other, goof off each time. I get my shirt torn off at one point but I just turn to Louis and sing to him, running my hands over my abs and everyone freaks out. I change the lyrics to things a little more…mature just because Lou dares me too, and I’m not one to back down, even with Liam getting a little angry. Our interviews are better as well, switching between talking about our relationship and the usual One Direction questions. We curl up together on couches and even share an on camera kiss, more of a peck, as a little rebellion from management, who have been breathing down our backs. Each place we go to is an adventure for us, going to Niagra Falls together, then Detroit and Chicago. All in all, we just couldn’t be happier with the way we’re always happy, smiling at each other sweetly from across the room as according to Niall our ‘eyes light up like you just saw a fucking unicorn or something’.
And now we’re backstage after our latest gig, Louis giggling as Niall and him wrestle around the room, Liam videotaping it on his phone and Zayn nodding off on the other couch as I watch with an amused smile.
“Oi!” Niall shouts when Louis manages to pin him to the ground, straddling his stomach.
My possessiveness bubbles up and with the new knowledge that Louis likes that, likes me being like that, I smirk.
“Hey babe? Only person who gets to be under you like that is me, get your ass over here.” I half-tease-half-command.
Louis whips his head around and his bright blue eyes meet mine, something deep stirring within his, and he immediately clambers off Niall to scamper over to me, face alight with an emotion I can’t define. He pounces on me, straddling my lap now, connecting our lips as Liam mutters something crude.
“Possessive enough for you?” I murmur against his mouth, gripping his hips and scraping my nails in.
“Mm, yes, I think so.” Louis chuckles, pressing more kisses to my lips, slow and warm.
I lose myself in him a little, and I’ll admit that. His gorgeous vanilla scent is too much for me to handle and my fingers start to massage his waist, his own hands pulling at my curls as our lips move together, tongues occasionally reaching out to tangle.
“How’s your self harm, Lou?” Liam asks suddenly and we pull apart. I start to worry but Louis just smiles.
“Better. Haven’t had the urge to do anything since that night.” He grins proudly and I kiss his cheek.
“Really?” Niall asks happily, eyes lighting up.
“Mhm. Just that stuff on my hips before we came out publicly. Now I don’t really want it so much, cause I have Harry and he makes me happy.” Louis says fondly and turns back to me, eyes bright, and kisses me once more.
“That’s great, Lou, really.” Liam tells him and I nod. I couldn’t be happier with his progress, he really is the most amazing person in the world.
“Yeah, I guess.” Louis says with a small smile.
“Nuh-uh, no guessing. We’re proud of you, LouLou.” I say, rubbing our noses together in an eskimo kiss.
“Yeah, really Louis.” Niall assures from his spot on the floor, and Liam sits down beside him to ruffle his blond hair.
“Thanks guys.” He chuckles, but I see the proud light in his eyes, threatening to make him grin.
So instead I press our lips together again, feeling him respond immediately as my eyes flutter shut. His mouth moves with mine in a practiced fashion, tongue swiping my upper lip cheekily as he tugs on my curls in such a way that I nearly moan. As a response I open my mouth and let him in, but only after biting down on his bottom lip with just enough pressure to have him silently keening.
“Would you ever consider telling the fans?” Says Zayn out of nowhere, and we jerk apart, surprised that he’s even awake.
“About…about my self harm?” Louis stutters and I feel my stomach drop. I see it on his face clear as day; the thought terrifies him. And me.
“Yeah.” Zayn says simply, and I realize the rest of us have all frozen, staring at him in various states of surprise and anger.
“I…well..I mean, not…I guess I just…I…” Louis stumbles, and I notice his hands start to shake where they’re buried in my hair.
“Shh, relax, it was a question.” I soothe, kissing down from his cheek to his neck softly. “You never have to.”
“I’m sorry, mate. I was just curious.” Zayn says, but it’s too late.
Louis’ gone to that place in his mind where he hates himself, that place I’ve tried so utterly hard to keep him away from (and succeeded, for quite a while) and there’s no going back. His cerulean eyes go distant and his fingers clench in my hair. I squeeze his waist softly but he doesn’t look away from where he’s zoned out, staring at the couch. Fuck.
“Babe? You don’t ever have to tell anyone, you know that right? Honey?” I ask, bumping our noses together.
That draws his attention (or about half of it, but I’ll take what I can get) to me and I smile reassuringly.
“I know.” He says simply, but there’s such a platonic tone to his voice that I have to stop myself from getting up and punching Zayn in the face.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked, that was stupid of me.” Zayn says and we both turn to look at him, seeing the way his face crinkles in sympathy and regret.
“Why did you?” Louis asks, this time curious. “Ask, I mean.”
Zayn hesitates, almost like he shouldn’t be saying what he’s about to. But again, it’s too late.
“There’s this girl on twitter. A fan. She was tweeting about how much your relationship, your coming out, has helped her. So I followed her to see more of her tweets and after she finished freaking out that The Zayn Malik followed her, she DMed me.” He explains.
By now Niall and Liam seem fully interested, leaning forwards from where they’re sat on the ground. Even Louis seems to have gotten his attention back to the present, moving so he can instead curl up on my lap, hands holding my shirt. I wrap my arms around him, hoping it feels like the protection he needs. And deserves.
“And?” Louis asks meekly.
“And she went on some super long thing about her life and all and I was busy so I skimmed it, but she talked about how she’s gay and she gets bullied at school all the time, and her family disowned her,” At this both Louis and I wince. “and she said that she self harms. Like, she’s been doing it for over a year and she said that when she gets shoved into lockers and such she often has the urge to cut but listening to our music helps, and all that. But then she said that people are nicer to her now cause you guys are out and proud and so people don’t push her around anymore at school. And she thinks she might be able to stop self harming because of it. Cause of you, I guess. So she asked me to tell you guys that. So…yeah that’s the only reason I asked.” Zayn finishes.
I take a second just to let it sink in. We helped someone. We helped someone who’s life was a pile of crap and we, just by coming out, changed that. The thought of someone, anyone, cutting themselves like Louis makes me stomach clench and I have the undeniable urge to protect her in any way I can. Our fans are great, but sometimes there’s so many that I forget that each fan, each person, has their own life and problems and story and apparently, sometimes self harm.
“Wow.” I breathe, and look to see Louis in a similar state, fingers clenched around his wrist in a death grip. I’ve been so used to not seeing them there that it makes my heart drop.
Carefully I reach out and take his fingers in mine, moving them away as he latches onto me.
“That’s really great.” Liam says, smiling at Zayn, who nods.
“Yeah, man. Who is she? We should follow her as well. You know, the more I think about it, I keep remembering fans who have had tons of bracelets on, and sometimes at signings they’d slip down and there’d be a flash of red. I never really got to see what it was, cause security moved them along so fast, but I think there’s a lot more of them who cut as well. I don’t think it’s that uncommon anymore.” Niall explains, leaning against Liam.
It’s clear that the thought affects him, maybe more than it should. It weighs us all down, as I see Zayn slump, Liam wrap his arm around Niall and I feel Louis nuzzle further into my neck. Niall’s the worst, probably because like I’ve said, he feeds off other people. His eyes drop to the floor and with a heavy heart, I see him rub at his wrist.
“Niall, don’t.” Louis says, and his voice is so cold and dejected that it makes my breath hitch.
“I wasn’t. I was just wondering. I mean. If so many people do it, it’s like…I dunno. Starts to seem okay, I guess. I wasn’t though.” Niall answers, explanation choppy as he avoids our eyes. His hand stays on his wrist. I start to worry.
“Yeah you were. That’s how it starts, y’know.” Louis explains. He shifts to sit up in my lap.
It hits me that he’s going to open up, to someone other than me, and that has me wrapping my arms around his waist in a show of solidarity and support. He inhales a shaky breath when the others just stare, catching on as well.
“You figure it could help. Figure it might…might help you with your life. Everyone has a different reason. I’ve read that some people feel numb, and the physical pain is the only thing that they can feel. Depression, probably. Others use it as a distraction, an outlet. But for me, and I suppose a lot of people, it’s…Well, at first you just think ‘Maybe this once, just this one time.’ But it’s never that one time. It starts slow, and the first time you do it is usually really stupid, like somewhere visible because that’s what you heard about. And it’s barely deep at all because you have no fucking idea what you’re doing.” Louis says, and even though I’d figured this all out, it’s the first time he’s said it out loud and his voice wavers.
“And it’s scary because you know it’s bad and you’re so fucking ashamed of yourself because, what the fuck, you just cut yourself, you’re not supposed to do that. But you know others have, so you justify it in your head however you want, and move on. Promise yourself you won’t do it again. Cause at that point you don’t even really want to do it again or anything.” Louis says, and tears start to well up in those beautiful eyes. I nod and tightly intertwine out fingers. He squeezes back like it’s a lifeline.
The other boys are in various states of, well, I don’t even know. Niall’s still holding his wrist, looking at the floor as if it could hold the answers to life or something. Liam’s making eye contact with Lou and occasionally me, worry emanating from him. And Zayn is picking at a loose string on his jumper, trying to make it look like it’s not affecting him as deeply as it is. I’d know. Because my heart is beating erratically and I just…ugh.
“But then shit happens, life goes on and gets worse and you figure, ‘Hey, maybe if I do it again, it will really work this time and help like it’s supposed to.’ Like, you just wanna get better, ironic really, so you try again. Some people research beforehand like I did. I mean, when you’re 15, you don’t know what the fuck to do. So you try again and it hurts, but it’s a good hurt. And the blood kind of shocks you but at that point it’s not even that much, not that you’d know then. Cause you still think it’s a onetime thing. But it kind of mesmerises you, the way the pain blocks out anything else, and it builds, like, a bubble around you, walls or something, and nothing else can even cross your mind because you just slice and slice until everything hurts but it’s better than before and the blood somehow makes it better because it just shows that you can do something, accomplish something, even if it’s just hurting yourself. It makes you feel so…in control.” Louis says, and then lets a sob escape him, walls falling down. Tears escape his eyes and I reach up to wipe them away, a touch he leans into.
“You don’t have to keep going.” Liam says, reassures, ever the papa bear. But Louis shakes his head, sniffling.
“Need to.” He says, and I understand. If he wants to get better, fully recover with the help of all of us, he needs this out. Needs to say it out loud.
Zayn and Niall both look up and they’re near tears as well, whereas I’m past that, crying silently and rubbing my thumb across Louis’ shaky palm.
“But then…” Louis sighs. “Then you get lost. You get lost in how crazily bad you need to feel it again, need to rip into your skin and tear it apart because you hate it, you hate your life and your situation and yourself. You hate everything. You even hate the blade. But at the same time you don’t. You fucking worship it because at that point, after walking around trying to hide it, trying to cope, even trying to stop, you’re just…so done trying. Done with everything because by then you can’t feel anything. Well, you can. You can feel happy or angry or sad. Usually sad. Hopeless. But…none of it even feels real compared to the physical pain of ruining yourself. And soon it becomes what you love most, and you love the pain and the blood and the way the slices look against your skin, not even badly anymore, somewhat beautiful but you could never say that or tell anyone that because they’d judge so you stay in that bubble, as often as you can.”
Louis sobs again and I kiss his cheek, wet with both his tears and mine. Liam is crying to, wiping at his eyes stupidly. Zayn’s managed to keep himself in check, only a few tears slipping out now. Niall on the other hand will not, absolutely will not, look up from the floor, and I can’t even see what he looks like but I know he’s imagining Louis. Because we all are. We’re all imagining our perfect amazing Louis feeling all these things, some we can relate to, others we can’t imagine and…it’s fucking heartbreaking.
“And so it becomes a secret. A dark secret that you can’t tell anybody. And some days you hate that secret so much that, once again; ironic, you cut even more. And some days you love that secret and once again, you cut like crazy. You get good at hiding it, too. You learn where it’s best for summer when you wear shorts and t-shirts, which is to cut on your hips. In winter you have free reign, really, and you, well, I, cut on my wrists a lot then. Cause that’s my favorite. Was. You learn about that too, where it’s different. On your legs it stings more. Hips is a sharper pain cause it’s near the bone. Stomach isn’t as good, for me at least. Biceps are good if you want a lot of blood. But wrists…yeah they’re better. Cause it hurts the right way and it feels like home and the blood is the best there cause it goes into little beads and it’s beautiful.” Louis explains, going into a bit of a trance and I start to worry that he’s going somewhere dangerous but then he snaps out of it, and smile through his tears.
“But if you’re lucky you finally tell someone or get caught and you have amazing friends and an even more amazing boyfriend and you start to feel loved, and you start to feel happy, so you get determined and decide for yourself, and maybe for your friends too, that you’ll stop. It’s hard, no shocker there, but things change. And though you still want to, you don’t need to, and you forget about it eventually. And that’s even more beautiful.” Louis says, grinning a little.
He turns to me and I sniff a little, overwhelmed. Yet he just beams, eyes crinkling beautifully, and I tug him in for a fierce kiss, lips sloppy but it doesn’t even matter.
Then we pull away to see the others smiling too, blinking back more tears. Liam and Zayn are both the same, looking at Louis with a deeper understanding than ever before, but still a little fond and cutesie about our relationship. Niall has finally moved his hand away from his wrist, grinning proudly at Louis.
“So yeah. Just don’t.” Louis finishes and Niall chuckles sadly, looking at the ceiling to will away his tears.
“Wont. I promise.” Niall says and I wink at him, wrapping myself around Louis even more, inhaling his vanilla cologne and just being incredibly grateful that he’s here, on my lap, as mine, alive.
“Pinky promise?” Louis asks and just like that he’s brought us all to laughter, the witty Tommo returned, walls back up.
To everyone but me, I notice, as he squeezes my fingers once before crossing the room to actually pinky promise with Niall. Though, that quickly turns into a hug, which turns into a group hug, and then all of us collapsing into giggles at something Niall says that I don’t even hear, but laugh anyways.
Because I’m fucking happy, that’s why. And from the look Louis gives me before he crushes our mouths together, eyes bright and lips quirked, I can tell he is too.