(Louis’ POV)
~2 years later~
I pace back and forth in the small room, trying to stop my hands from shaking and my breathing from hitching all over again. Zayn’s watching me with an unamused expression and somehow I manage to shoot him a glare before fixing my fringe obsessively, because what the hell. I’m more nervous than I’ve been in all my life, and it shouldn’t be a surprise.
I’m getting married today.
And I’m freaking out. What if it goes wrong? What if I forget my vows? What if I trip down the aisle? What if, what if, what if? And god, I’m marrying Harry. Perfect, amazing Harry and what if I ruin this all for him? He deserves it all, really.
Over the years, we grew impossibly closer. We went from Harry and Louis, to HarryandLouis, and the world was along for the ride. We became the power couple, the one in the news nonstop. I’m not gonna lie, it was quite lovely to be able to kiss my boyfriend at a red carpet premiere and have everyone cheer for us. About a year ago we moved into a house together, saying it was for the future and leaving out the bit about us maybe wanting it for kids, as not to jinx it. And the next thing I knew, Harry was on his knee and oh fuck, I’m freaking out again.
Okay, breathe. We’ll be fine, of course we will. Always are. Well, no. We’d broken up twice, in the last two years. Once back in the end of 2012 because of some stupid, stupid argument that got blown out of proportions and the ‘break up’, if it could even be called that, lasted all of a week before we snapped broke down, kissing on the front step of our building desperately. The second break up was public, unfortunately. The fans went nuts. It was in 2013 and because Harry wanted us to be a more private couple, and I wanted to be the next Brangelina, and then things were said and tears were cried and Harry left. It lasted three weeks, and I don’t like to think about them because they were hell. I tried so, so hard to cope, but then seeing him every day for band things (we told the fans that we were still best friends, even though it was so awkward I couldn’t breathe) just broke me and somehow I ended up on the bathroom floor with a razor in my hand and blood on my skin. It continued like that for a week before Harry found out.
*
Backstage at the concert, I grab my braces off the chair and fasten them on, getting ready for our performance. It’s awkward now, sadly. It’s not like I can help it. I can’t be around him without wanting to break into tears. I’m not even angry anymore, no, that lasted all of a few nights. Now, I’m just heartbroken and lost and so fucking sad. So that’s where my little secret comes in. I’m not causing any harm, I swear. Just. When I think about Harry too much or miss him too much or love him too much, I slice into my skin and I can breathe again. It’s not that bad, it’s only been happening a week or two. I know I shouldn’t relapse, I’m very aware. But I can’t help it.
So now I avoid looking at Harry like I want to and start pulling my shoes on, also purposefully ignoring Liam’s pitying stare, Niall’s inquisitive one and Zayn’s sad eyes. I can’t deal with that shit right now.
I’m so focused on tying my shoes that I don’t realize my sleeve has ridden up, exposing my wrist that’s newly decorated with cuts, until an all too familiar hand reaches out to touch. I jump in shock, wrenching my arm away and gasping as my eyes meet green ones pooled with regret and guilt and- no.
I manage to realize that the others have ushered themselves out of the room, probably thinking we need this moment but I don’t want it, I can’t handle this. Tears start forming and I can’t stop them.
“Oh Louis…” Harry trails off and shit, that’s it. I break.
A sob escapes my lips and I fall into him, crying into his shirt. Harry wraps his arms around me, holding me tighter than he ever has and I cry more because I miss this, I miss us. So much.
“Shh, I’m right here, right here baby.” Harry soothes but I shake my head into his neck.
“You’re not though.” I sniffle, punching his chest pathetically. “You’re supposed to be and you’re not.”
“Yes I am, I’m right here, I’ll never leave again, oh god Boo. I’m so sorry, I love you honey.” Harry says, and I never have a chance to reply because his lips are on mine while his fingers trace over the newly scarred skin and god.
I kiss back harder.
*
We were back together after that and never to be separated again (much to the fans’ excitement), even on the rocky nights through the next month when I was craving that stupid pain so much I snapped at everything. But Harry held me through it all, kissing me until I couldn’t remember anything else. And that was perfect, really.
“Hey Louis?” Comes Colin’s voice and I snap out of it to see him leaning in the doorway and scanning over my outfit. (White dress shirt, nice black pants, fancy green braces that match the theme of the wedding and black dress shoes.) “It’s time.”
Oh fuck.
I start to panic again, my breathing going crazy. Zayn walks over and pulls me into a tight hug, whispering “Relax, you’re in love with him and now you get to marry him, that’s all that matters.”
And then I’m calming down, my breathing slowing. I think about Harry as we walk down the hall, Zayn’s hand on my back calmingly. I think about his eyes, and the way they shined with pride when he proposed.
*
I smile across the stage at Harry, singing the words to our new hit single. We’re on our fourth album now, and though One Direction isn’t as popular as we used to be, we still have thousands of fans in the audience, singing along and filming with their phones.
We finish on a high note, and I’m about to turn around for us to leave and change outfits, until Zayn spins me around and forces me back to where Harry is standing in the spotlight, eyes bright. My stomach flip-flops.
“Hello everybody! I’d like to change things up a bit, yeah? Hope you don’t mind. In fact, I’m sure you won’t.” Harry says, and winks at me, though I’m confused. “As you know, Louis and I have been dating for about two years now, and I love him with all my heart.”
The screams increase and I blush furiously, smiling at my feet. I notice Zayn, Liam and Niall are standing to the left, as if waiting for something…
“So I wanted to ask him something, and I wanted to do it in front of all of you, because you’ve supported us from day one.” Harry goes on, and my heart freezes. No. No, he can’t be.
Harry beckons me with a flick of his fingers and I walk closer, numb from head to toe. He grins at me reassuringly and my breath catches.
Harry takes both my hands in his, holding his microphone between us. “So, Louis. I love you so, so much. Do you remember that day with our families, when we came out to them? And Daisy asked if we were gonna get married?” He asks, and I start to tear up.
“Course I do.” I say quickly, smiling.
“Right. Well you said yes. And I knew from that point on that we would, we would absolutely get married. Even when we were broken up, I knew somehow we’d get back to that, to this. So. I’ve had you waiting for two years. It’s about time I ask you a certain question, yeah?” Harry goes on, and I’m freaking out now, heart beating erratically and breathing out of control.
I meet his green eyes and nod shakily. He smiles and gets down on one knee, and I squeak as tears spring to my eyes. Oh fuck. I look down at him as the fans scream so loud I can’t hear a thing, and I notice Liam, Zayn and Niall staring on with bright grins.
“So BooBear.” Harry says into his mic, before pulling out a box that makes my head spin. He opens it to reveal a plain silver band and starts crying too. “I promise to love you for the rest of my life. I’ll carry you around on my hips whenever you want, kiss you every chance I get, and hold you when you’re sad. I’ll try my best to keep you happy, protected, and loved for as long as I can.”
I hastily wipe away my tears and smile at him, heart fluttering nervously.
“So will you marry me?” He asks, green eyes shining, before he smirks cheekily. “Cause I’d like that a lot, y’know.”
“Yes!” I sob, giggling. “Yes I’ll marry you, you idiot.”
Harry grins and slides the band onto my finger, a cool weight that feels just right.
He stands back up and we just stare at each other for a moment, before I lose control and kiss him fiercely, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him close, lips wet with both our tears. He reaches up and pulls one of my hands down (and I’m brought back to all that time ago, swaying on the rooftop to Ed Sheeran) to rub his thumb over the nearly gone scars, leaning close and whispering “And I promise to never, ever let you fall.”
I nod quickly and pull him back in, connecting our lips again.
*
After that (well, after some mind-blowing sex and a whole lot of ‘we’re engaged oh my god’s) our mums and sisters took over, planning almost everything. We put in our special touches, obviously. The theme is blue and green for our eyes, I’m wearing green like Harry’s and he’s wearing blue like mine. We wrote our own vows, and decided on having Niall marry us just like he’d wanted to all those years ago. Zayn’s my best man, and I have Stan as a groomsman and my sisters as groomsmaids/flower-girls. Harry has Liam as his best man and Colin for a groomsman as well as Gemma and Danielle as groomsmaids. It was a little unbalanced, so we switched one of the twins to his side. The way it’s set up, we both walk down two aisles and meet in the middle, as we didn’t want one of us to do the traditional bride’s walk. Other than that, the girls picked all the flowers, decorations, venue. We really weren’t picky about all that. Just happy to get married.
And now Colin and Zayn lead me to where I’m supposed to wait, my head spinning. This is happening, oh god. My mum meets me there and pulls me into a tight hug, sensing my worry.
“Oh, love. It’ll be just fine, you know that!” She coos in my ear, and I feel more of my worry vanish. “You’re about to marry the love of your life, just enjoy the moment, yeah? It’s only gonna happen once.”
I giggle and pull away with wet eyes, noticing Colin link arms with Zayn (They’ll walk each other down opposite Danielle and Liam, Stan walking Gemma, and the older girls walking each other, the twins as flower girls following).
I calm my breathing, thinking about Harry and how incredible it is that we made it this far. And soon everyone will know about all of it, thanks to my vows. I’m not even nervous about that, surprisingly.
Zayn pulls me into one more hug, knowing it’s his time to get ready. “This is your guys’ moment.” He whispers, and then winks and walks away, saying goodbye to my mum.
And then the music starts and I start to freak the fuck out. Lottie and Fizz appear beside me hair done up perfectly, one in a blue dress, one in a green. Daisy appears as well, blue dress and green flower petals in her basket. They look perfect and I nearly start crying again, overwhelmed.
“Oh relax, you sap.” Lottie teases, slapping my bum.
Zayn and Colin start to walk down our aisle, as Liam and Danielle are probably doing on theirs, and the girls line up here as Gemma and Stan probably do over there. Daisy bounces anxiously, and I have a feeling Phoebe is doing the same over there. God, this is happening, isn’t it?
And then the older girls start going and my mum links arms with me on my left, saying “I love you sweetie, and I’m so proud of you.”
Well fuck, I’m gonna start sobbing now, aren’t I? Trying to calm down, I think of last night as Daisy starts to spread petals down the aisle.
*
“Hey Louis.” Harry says, tracing up and down my bare chest. My eyes stay shut as I breathe slowly, still coming down from my high.
“Mm?”
“We’re getting married tomorrow.” He tells me, and my stomach dips with the realization.
“We are.” I mumble, eyes opening to see him smiling at me giddily.
“I’m gonna make you cry with my vows.” He challenges, and I bark out a laugh.
“You’d cry with or without mine. But don’t worry, they’re up to sappy standards.” I tell him, smirking.
Harry kisses me softly then, and I sigh happily into it. He pulls back and rests our foreheads together, one hand stroking that still sensitive spot behind my ear.
“I love you so much. I can’t wait to call you my husband.” Harry says, eyes becoming watery.
I would laugh, except I’m just as emotional. “Me neither.”
“But I suppose for now, I could always fuck my fiancée into the mattress.” Harry says headily, and my skin prickles with arousal.
“Three times in one day, really Haz?” I ask, but as he rolls to straddle me, I grin up into his eyes.
“Hey, unless you’re not up for it.” He teases. “Everyone knows you’re a lazy arse, I’m sure- mpph!”
*
It’s my time to go now, my mum and I lining up and I can see everything (gorgeous, so gorgeous, light blues and greens everywhere, flower petals, everyone seated to my right, a camera man filming this for our tv special (Colin’s idea), Niall at the front grinning like a madman, everyone lined up beside him) but my eyes go straight to Harry on the other side, facing me, arm in arm with Anne and looking…fuck. He’s got on a white dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, dress pants, nice shoes and there’s the blue bowtie, the exact color of my eyes. And he’s clearly emotional, of course he is, but he’s got on the biggest grin and all my nerves just vanish, gone.
I smile back at him as the music starts and everyone rises, and we start walking in time, staring and grinning and so, so in love. A third of the way there he sticks his tongue out at me, and I giggle and do the same back, unable to believe this is happening. Both our mums elbow us in the ribs at the same time, and both of us roll our eyes at the same time. Halfway there and he cocks his head in the direction of the camera, before making a face right into the lens. I stifle my snort and do the same once it turns on me, glad that I’m no longer panicking, but in fact having fun.
When we make it to the middle, our mums let go, kiss us on the cheeks and go to sit down in the white chairs as everyone else sits. Harry grins at me before saying “Hi.”
“Hi.” I say back, and then we’re hugging each other tight, everyone in the room ‘aww’ing along. I breathe in his cinnamon cologne and kiss the side of his neck.
“Alright, alright, you’ll have time for that later, you gits.” Niall interrupts and we break apart laughing. “C’mon, let me marry you.”
Harry takes my hand and we step up to where Niall stands, looking far too happy. He winks at me before beginning. “So we’re all here today because these two idiots are in love with each other, and want to get married. I decided to shirk the traditional speech and say my own.”
I roll my eyes but let him go on, keeping eye contact with Harry, who can’t stop smiling, dimples deep with happiness.
“Harry and Louis…are ridiculous. Only people that would have the wedding colors because of their eyes, so cheesy. They’re also overdramatic and pissy and obnoxious. They have no concept of PDA, and I if I have to hear them through the hotel walls one more time I might bash my head in.” Niall says, and I blush along with Harry. “But, they’re also soul mates. They’re made for each other. I’ve never seen two people have such an understanding of each other. Harry knows if Louis’ upset just by the way he sits, and Louis knows Harry’s angry just by the way he moves. They’re perfectly in sync, and they love each other so, so much. They trust each other with absolutely everything, and they can disappear into their own world easily, something I’m sure everyone in this room has experienced. You’re talking to them one moment, and the next they’re staring into each other’s eyes in a sickeningly cute way, and they can’t even hear you anymore because they’re having a silent conversation.”
And we’re doing that as he speaks, Harry raising an eyebrow to say he’s taking this seriously isn’t he? and me smirking to say let him have his fun, darling.
“And I’m pretty sure they’re doing that now.” Niall adds, annoyed. He snaps his fingers and we jerk our eyes up to him, earning laughter from everyone in the room. “Pay attention, twits.”
“Now, I just want to say one more thing. I knew these two would be together from the start, and it’s been amazing to watch it happen, be along for the journey. And I know they’ll have an even longer one, and it’ll be filled with happiness, no doubt. So we’re here to see them get married, something that I’m sure was written in the stars.” Niall finishes, and I get teary-eyed.
Niall gestures to Harry, who grins at me and fishes his vows out of his pocket. He clears his throat and winks at the camera before starting.
“Louis. I know these vows are supposed to be poetic and romantic, and they’re supposed to make you fall in love all over again. But somehow, I don’t want you to do that. Our story is perfect the way it is, and the way we fell in love was perfect in itself. So these instead are going to be rambly and not very well written, and you’ll have to put up with them just like you put up with me.” He says with a cheeky grin. “I wish I could say this was love at first sight, that I loved you the second I saw you. But in fact, that’s not true. You didn’t even catch my eye at first, and we went past each other many times without anything. But when we met before your audition and talked in the bathroom, I got caught in your eyes, and the way you flicked your hair, and your stupidly gorgeous smile.”
I feel a lump in my throat, and struggle to remain composed.
“And so when we got put in a band together, and you jumped into my arms even though we barely knew each other…I knew even then there was a level to us that would go much deeper than with the other boys. And I was damn right. It may have taken us a while to come to terms with the way we felt, and it may have taken me a lot of mistakes, and you a lot of hurt, but in the end we snogged in the back of a tour bus and it was better than the most romantic stories. Sure, we’ve fought, and broken up, and cried enough tears to drown each other. But we always end up back with each other, we always end up in love again. Actually, I shouldn’t say that. We’re always in love, that never stops.” Harry goes on, grinning at me even though there are tears on his cheeks. I reach up to wipe them away with my thumbs, ignoring the distinct ‘aww’ that comes from Colin.
“I love every bit of you. Your gorgeous blue eyes that are prettier than the sky. Your lips, your hair, even your bed-head. Your bum.” He adds, and I bark out a laugh. “The way you laugh. The way you teach me something new every day. The way you tickle me to end a fight, or kiss me mid-sentence to shut me up. The way you beam when you’re happy, all smile lines and crinkly eyes. You just. You’re beautiful, everything with you is beautiful. And I’m not naive, I won’t say you’re flawless. Because you’re not, you have many flaws. You always leave the milk out, forcing me to go buy more. You leave your shoes everywhere, you have a short temper, you jump to conclusions, doubt yourself, doubt us. But I love all those things about you, because they give me the chance to tease you, reassure you, and kiss you breathless. And if I could kiss you for the rest of my life, I would. So without sounding overly sappy, I’ll end this by saying I’d go through anything for you, I’ll protect you for the rest of my life, and I love you to the moon and back, BooBear.”
I let out a sob and nod, covering my mouth with my hand because that stupid camera is focused on us. I’m so utterly in love with Harry in this moment, in his teary eyes, his blotchy cheeks, shaking fingers. I can’t help but stare.
“Um. Louis. Your turn.” Niall prompts, and the room collectively laughs as I fish out my own, sheepishly rolling my eyes.
“Right.” I mutter. “Okay.”
My hands shake as I hold my paper in front of me, reading my messy scrawl.
“Harry. I couldn’t decide how I wanted these to go, actually. Half of me wanted it to be like a romantic fairytale, and half of me wanted it to be a bit more realistic. But in the end, I’ve decided to be honest. And I’ve decided to tell our story like it is.” I say, and Harry raises an eyebrow, catching on to where I’m going with this. Good. I turn a little so I can talk to the room, and therefore the camera.
“Very few people know my deepest secret. The first was Zayn, and then Niall and Liam. I didn’t want Harry to know, because I loved him far too much to cause him the sadness of it. But he found out and…I owe everything to him. I owe my recovery to him. Very few people know that for a long time, I’ve had a self harm problem. It was something that started long before X Factor, and continued through. I used to feel so, so alone and…I just. I resorted to it.” I admit, tearing up and ignoring the looks of surprise on my family’s faces. Harry ignores the rules and leans across to press a kiss to my forehead, taking one of my hands as he pulls away. I look into his eyes and blink back the wetness in mine.
“But you found out, and. It was a long struggle, but you promised me you’d be there through it all and you were. You held me when I broke down crying, stopped me when I wanted so, so badly to just…” I trail off with a sigh. “You put up with my shouting and my craving and absolutely everything. And along the way somewhere, we started a relationship, and you healed me with kisses, and we fell in love. And you’re everything that cutting myself isn’t. You’re protection, and care, and love. You’re happiness, and midnight snacks, movie marathons, laughing over nothing. You’re a smile brighter than the sun, eyes deeper than the ocean and dimples so cute they rival your laugh. You just. You saved my life Hazza. And I owe you everything. But at the same time, I don’t. Because I know that with you, it’s not a question of owing you anything.”
Harry reaches over and wipes away my tears the same way I did, and I catch a glimpse of the entire wedding party crying.
“It’s a question of seeing who can love the other more, even when we both know neither of us can win. It’s a question of supporting you when you have a bout of insecurity, holding you tight and telling you just how perfect you are. It’s a question of laying in bed all day, doing nothing but play with our fingers. Or doing a lot more than that.” I say dryly, and Harry snorts. “With you, I can be myself. And that means that when I relapsed, I told you right away and knew you wouldn’t be angry. What did you do? Serenaded me and kissed me onstage. And when I relapsed again when we broke up, you held me and apologized even though it wasn’t your fault-”
“It was, though.” Harry interrupts with his voice cracking, and I roll my teary eyes.
“You know it wasn’t.” I shake my head firmly. “It was mine, I gave in, me and me alone, Harry.”
He’s clearly unconvinced but stays silent, and I go back to my paper.
“And you kissed me and we got back together even though you were still angry with me for how stupid I acted during that fight. You kept me backstage and we started the concert half an hour late because I couldn’t stop crying, I was so ashamed that I resorted to it again, and even though Paul was knocking on the door and demanding we get the show started, you didn’t even move from your spot on the floor with me. You put me first. You still do. And that’s how I know that no matter what happens in the future, we’ll push through it. Because I put you first, and we’ll support each other and.” I break off because I’m crying too much, wiping away my tears with the sleeve of my shirt because I don’t care anymore. “I just love you. I love you so much.”
“Oh, honey.” Harry says, pulling me into his chest, hugging me tight. “I promise to never, ever let you feel so sad that you do that again. You’re so strong, you’re stronger than all of this. And even if I’m wrong, even if you do relapse again, I’ll hold you and cry with you and love you every bit as much as I do now, and I’ll kiss every scar just like I’ve always done. But I promise to try my absolute hardest to make you so happy the thought of hurting yourself won’t even cross your mind.”
I feel warmth bloom in my heart and I pull away to smile at him, his green eyes brighter than I’ve ever seen them.
“Jesus, guys.” Niall mutters, sniffling. “Well, can I please have the rings?”
Daisy and Phoebe step forward and pass us each a ring, bright smiles on their faces. I kiss them both on the head and then turn back to Harry, taking a deep breath.
“Alright. Do you, Harry, take Louis as your lawfully wedded husband, as long as you both shall live?” Niall asks.
“I do.” Harry says, nodding. I slide the ring onto his finger with shaky hands.
“And do you, Louis, take Harry as your lawfully wedded husband, as long as you both shall live?” Niall questions, and I blink rapidly.
“I do.” I breathe, and Harry slides the ring onto my finger.
“And by the power invested in me, by the internet actually, I now pronounce you husband and husband. Actually, that sounds weird. I now pronounce you Hazza and BooBear. For the love of Larry Stylinson, please just kiss already.” Niall says eagerly.
Both of us are laughing when I link my arms behind Harry’s neck and tug him close, connecting our lips in a soft kiss that might just be our best yet, Harry’s hands on the small of my back. Everyone erupts into applause and I pull back only to have Harry follow the movement with his lips, making me giggle into his mouth, kissing him again.
When we finally do break apart, Harry rests our foreheads together, reaching up to pull my wrist down and run his fingers over the skin there like he’s done so many times before. We don’t need to say anything at all, because when green meets blue, the words go unspoken.
I love you.
~End~

Louis and Harry get in a fight, and some old feelings come back.
Trigger warning for mentions of self harm.
Title from Lego House by Ed Sheeran, obviously.

It’s not like we’ve never fought before. Of course we have. Harry and I are defensive people and when we butt heads, the arguments are for the history books. But this…this is just different. I’m not sure how, but. It is.
“I just feel like I never see you anymore!” I complain, and it’s true. With Harry’s new job as a judge on X Factor, he’s around half as much as before, and I miss our lazy days.
“It’s work, Louis, I don’t have a choice! And we live together, we’re married, all our free time is spent together! How can you possibly miss me?” Harry asks exasperatedly as he washes the dishes, scrubbing away soap suds.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but there’s a spark of anger in my chest and I know I can’t stop my next words. “Because I love you and I fucking want to spend proper time with you! Time that isn’t sex or breakfast in bed! I want real time with you!” And, okay, not the best way to phrase it.
“Real time? Oh, so now us sleeping together isn’t real time to you? And breakfast isn’t either? Fine then, no more sex, no more waking up early and spending a good half a fucking hour to make you your stupid pancakes!” Harry yells, throwing a plate into the water.
“You know that’s not what I meant! I just want to be like we used to, fuck, but now you have your stupid X Factor and it’s more important than me!” I counter, hopping off the counter to stand with my arms crossed.
“How dare you! You fucking know you’re more important to me than anything! It’s my job, Louis, we’re not stars like we used to be, we don’t go on sold out tours, we have to have money in the bank, okay! Excuse me for trying to get that!” Harry argues, and wow, okay. I can play that game too.
“Oh really? And what’s my job, hm? Didn’t realize my talk show wasn’t a job! Oh that’s right, it is, but you always seem to forget that!” I jab loudly, offended.
“Louis, your talk show is once a week, that’s not enough!”
“Is so!”
“Isn’t! And even if it was, that makes you a fucking hypocrite, because you spend tons of time with your work friends!” Harry accuses, voice cracking with frustration.
“When you’re at work!” I shout.
“Oh fuck off, it’s not my fault my job requires actual effort.” Harry replies haughtily, knowing exactly what he’s doing.
“Excuse me?”
“That’s right, I fucking said it! Your stupid show is written by other people, Louis, all you do is read off the jokes and interview a celebrity from a script!” He yells.
Now he’s crossed a line. This is just….no.
“Fuck you! I worked hard to get that show, and I still do, not like you’d know! Novelty wore off after your first fucking visit! Half the people there forget I even have a husband because you’re never around!” I push, pushpushpush.
“I’m not around because I have actual work to do, at an actual job, that I actually have to fucking contribute to!” Harry fumes, stepping closer.
My jaw actually drops at that one, because how fucking dare he? He encouraged me to get my job, told me it’d be amazing for me, such good work, and now he’s the only one who does anything? Fuck him.
I shove him back with forceful hands and seethe “You’re just jealous I got popular again! That’s the only reason you even went for X Factor judge! It’s got nothing to do with money!”
“Of course it does, do you really think I’m that petty?” He spits, shoving me back as well.
I stumble, but right myself and fight back with “I don’t know, I barely see you anymore, maybe you’ve changed!”
“Well obviously you have too!”
Seriously? Fuck him. I clench my fists and reply “Sure, go ahead, put the blame on me once again. I forgot, everything’s my fault!”
He rolls his eyes immediately. “Oh, do not try and play that card again-”
“What card?” I interrupt. “You’re Harry Styles and you’re perfect and never make mistakes and I’m just Louis who screws everything up-”
“Oh woe is me, my life is horrible, pity me!” He mocks.
“You don’t have enough time in your schedule to even feel pity!” I scream.
And then we glare at each other for a moment, breathing heavily, before Harry shakes his head.
“You’re fucking terrible.” He mutters, before throwing down his dish rag and storming out of the kitchen.
I’m left alone and the fight crashes down on me, and shit. Shit. What the hell just happened? We haven’t fought like that in months, fuck, maybe even a year. Since the honeymoon. And everything had been going wonderfully, really, we’d been smitten and our days were filled with kisses and cuddles and smiles and it was all goddamn perfect and then Harry’d gotten that stupid job and now- Well. Now this.
I scrub at my eyes, which are starting to grow wet, and I hear a crash from the other room, probably Harry throwing something in anger. I don’t even care. He can throw whatever he wants, it’s not going to change this. Maybe nothing will change this. Maybe we’ve gone and fucked it all up. Maybe I have.
Because this was my fault. I brought it up, I started the argument, I added fuel to the fire. Harry was an absolute twat, yes, but. I started it. My fault.
And it’s like I’m frozen as shame and guilt and self hatred washes over me, and then my stomach drops, because my eyes catch on a knife on the counter, silver and shining, and. I want it. I want it to slice through my skin and make me numb and take away all of this because I’ve ruined everything.
And it’s right there, shit, all I’d have to do is grab it, and I’d feel okay again, I would, and there’d be more scars, and I never missed them, but now I do, now I want more, want to fall back down into that pit because maybe it would fix this. Fix it all.
My fingers reach out to play with the handle, twisting the blade on the counter top, watching the light reflect off it, and I’m in a trance like I used to be, when I needed it, craved it so bad it hurt, and it’s scary but settling, in a sense, and.
I nearly pick it up. I nearly bring it to my wrist and cut across, nearly make myself bleed red. But I don’t. I startle out of it with a gasp and slide it away from myself forcefully, real tears now brimming over. I thought that was over? I thought I was okay, I thought I’d never feel like this again, feel broken and dependent and conflicted, but here I am, and.
I want Harry. I know we’ve just fought like hell, and I know he’s furious, but. I want him. He always knew what to say, always knew how to bring me out of it, and I feel so fucking alone right now, I. I take a shaking breath and back away from the knife as fast as I can, not letting myself make the mistake.
Instead, I spin and walk down the hall, padding across the carpet to where I know Harry will be, in our room, probably with a pillow over his face. I pass the bathroom and have to steel myself before I do something idiotic like go in there and pry out one of those gloriously thin razor blades-
Wow, fuck, what is even happening? I hurry past and reach our bedroom door, which is firmly shut. By now I’m crying, pathetically scared, so I knock timidly on the door and wait, holding in a sniffle.
“What.” Comes Harry’s voice, deadpan.
“Can I, um. Can I come in please?” I ask, voice thick. I don’t have to see him to know he’s thinking it over, brooding.
“I’d rather you not.” He says.
I stifle an upcoming sob and hug my torso, not knowing what to do. “Please.” I whimper stupidly, a last ditch attempt.
I hear a deep sigh, and then Harry’s calling out “Fine.”
I sag and open the door, seeing the room dimply lit, Harry sitting on his side of the bed, facing me with a pillow hugged to his chest, visible anger from earlier remaining. Alright, then. I tentatively come closer and I know the exact moment he notices that I’m crying, because his glare falters slightly. I climb onto the bed and sit cross legged, distance still between us.
Neither of us speak for a moment, because I don’t know how to put any of it into words. That’s scary, just like the rest of this, making me cry more silent tears, staring at my hands, which fidget at the bedspread, unsure.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asks after a little while, more of a statement than a question. I glance up to see him trying hard to remain cold.
I still don’t know what to say, so I shrug weakly, choking on my breath a little. I feel myself revert back to how I used to be, and my fingers travel to my wrist, pinching harshly at the skin there, and the pain is still familiar, and.
And then Harry’s tugging my arm away, stammering “Oh, Lou. Are you. Is it. Back?”
All I can do is nod as a sob finally escapes. Harry is quick to get rid of the space between us, pulling me in close, cradling me to his chest. I nestle into his neck and cling to him tight, still feeling lost.
“I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry.” Harry murmurs, kissing my hair and holding my wrist.
I cry into him and shake my head, mussing my hair. “No, it’s. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.”
“We were both stupid, shh, it’s okay, we’re okay, Boo.” Harry soothes. I sob again and he holds me tighter.
“We’re okay?” I ask, because I ruined it all, didn’t I? I ruined us.
“We’re alright, I promise, everything’s alright.” He tells me, and I sag in relief, deflating into him.
He lays us down gently, enveloping me so I feel small, which is what I always needed, when I used to crave for the blade. His lips find my forehead and he strokes my neck as more tears brim over with a wobbly noise.
“Shhh.” He coos, holding me tighter. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and struggle to explain. “I just. I want to cut and bleed and hurt and I don’t know why, fuck, I thought I was better.”
I curl into him at the admission, shame making my cheeks flush. But he settles his head beside mine to kiss my chin, saying “You are better, sweetheart, you don’t give in anymore.”
“I almost did.” I whimper. “There was the knife on the counter, and, shit.”
“Oh, Louis, it’s okay.” He assures me, despite the sudden sadness in his eyes. “You didn’t cut, you didn’t fall again, you’re fine, you’re perfectly fine.”
“I don’t feel it. Wanting to slice into my skin because we fought isn’t normal, that isn’t fine.” I growl, no longer angry at him, but myself instead.
“Well, maybe it’s been lying under the surface, you know? Maybe it lingers. Maybe it’s gonna come back sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t fight through it.” Harry says slowly, reaching up to wipe away some of my tears with his thumb.
“Y-Yeah?” I choke, unsure.
“Yes, baby, we’ll fight through it together like we did before, like we’ve always done. I’m here, I’ll get you through it, I swear.” Harry tells me with kisses to both cheeks.
“You’re not mad at me?” I ask.
“For this, or for before?”
“Before.”
“I’m. Yeah, still mad. But this overrides that, alright? You’re more important than my stupid bitterness. That whole fight, all of it, it’s over, done, pointless, okay? Let’s forget it. This comes first.” Harry answers.
I feel a bit lighter, sounding a small “Really?”
Harry nods. “Of course. When has it ever not?”
I just shrug a shoulder, before cuddling into him, nosing at the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar cologne.
“Thank you. I just really need you, and. Thank you.” I choke out, emotions swirling once more. I feel off balance.
“I need you too. More than any dumb fight, you got that?” Harry says firmly, and it’s my turn to nod.
“Mhm.” I hum unevenly.
“Good.” He murmurs.
We fall quiet for a little while, listening to each other’s breathing, Harry rubbing my back, me pressing the occasional kiss to his neck in thanks. But I know one of us needs to apologize, so I speak up first. My fault, after all.
“For the record, um.” I clear my throat. “I didn’t mean what I said, earlier. All that shit. I know your job is important, and I know I was being unfair. I’m sorry.”
Harry sighs and touches his lips to my hair. “It’s okay.” He replies. “I was being a dick. Your job is perfect, and you do really well, and you do put a lot of effort in. I shouldn’t have said any of what I did. I’m sorry too.”
I shrug again, voice muted when I admit “I just miss you a lot, and. I worry about losing you.”
“Why would you ever lose me?” He questions, sounding utterly confused.
I keep my face tucked into him in order to hide my obvious upset. “Because your schedule is so busy now, and you still need to find time for friends and stuff, and. That’s gotta come out of somewhere.”
“Lou…you think I’m going to stop spending time with you because of other people? Because of my job?” He asks ludicrously. But…it is true.
“S’already happening.” I mutter into him. “S’fine, I know it’s not your fault. I’ll deal.”
“No, it’s.” He struggles, shaking his head. “No. Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t even. I thought you knew I’d rather be with you? All the time? God, I’m sorry, I’ll, um, I’ll talk to the producers and see if I can move some of the shooting and meetings to, like, one day? That way I won’t have to leave so often, and we can have more of our lounge about days?”
“We don’t do much lounging about.” I snort. We both know I’m using it to cover up how emotional and grateful I am. Neither of us mention it.
“True. But does that sound good, love?” He clarifies, pulling apart slightly to meet my eyes.
“Yes.” I smile sadly.
“Good.” He breathes, before kissing me, soft and slow. I let my eyes flutter closed, and move with him in practiced movements, content. When he breaks away, he nudges our noses together and adds “I love you, husband. Don’t go forgetting that again, okay?”
I look away sheepishly. “I didn’t forget, I. Worried.”
“You do that too much.” He comments knowingly.
“I know.” I sigh.
He kisses me again, shorter this time, and I let my head fall back down onto the pillow once more.
“I love you too, Hazza. Don’t forget that either.” I tell him sternly.
“Never.” He swears, green eyes honest.
I nod and turn into his bicep, nuzzling into his collage of tattoos, determinedly keeping my eyes shut to fend off more tears. It’s just, I feel so fucking stupid, so needy, weak, even. I just. I really thought I was over all of this, really thought I was better and recovered and all that, and yet here I am, wishing I had something sharp in my fingers instead of Harry’s shirt, wishing I was bleeding instead of crying. It’s so pathetic, I don’t even-
I’m broken out of it by Harry cupping my cheek, making my look at him blurrily, breath hitching.
“Let me make it all better, yeah?” He murmurs gently, stroking away wetness.
“Yeah.” I shudder.
He sends me a smile for my benefit and rolls on top of me, trapping me there. He mouths up my neck and across my jaw, before capturing my lips with his own. I sigh into the kiss and tangle my fingers in his hair, something we’ve discovered will never not be thing of his. I feel him smirk as he deepens it, tongue flicking out to lick into my mouth slickly.
And from there on out, it’s a lot of kissing, and not so much breathing, but my brain is too dizzy to think about anything but Harry.
Maybe I’ll be okay.