I Think I l Love You Better Now (Larry Stylinson)(Rated R for a reason)

(Louis’ POV)

Harry’s fingertips are cold when they make contact, giving me goose bumps. My breath catches in my throat as he slides his skin over mine. His finger run over one healing cut, slowly going over the rough line. Then over another, more pressure this time. It doesn’t hurt. It should, but it doesn’t. His thumb finds its way to one of the damaged burn marks, pushing down and making me wince. Now that hurt a little.

But soon his fingers move to the thin part of my wrist, much more sensitive than the others. There, he drags his fingernail over a particular slice, and I unwillingly whimper. Instantly his hands are gone, eyes wide and scared.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes. It sounds as if he’s worried he’s crossed a line or something. And really, I should feel the same. He’s gone farther than he should have. He’s long past the boundaries. But…he’s not. At the same time, he’s not. I’m comfortable with Haz. More comfortable than with anyone in the world. And he needs to know that.

“No. It’s…it’s okay.” I whisper, moving my wrist back towards him. My heart is beating in my ears and I feel as if I’m close to a panic attack.

“This is hard for you.” Harry says, scooting closer to me, to the point where he’s nearly half on my lap.

I exhale, the air coming out in a partial sob as I nod. I can feel my walls cracking and my panic rises. But then Harry leans down, takes my wrist, and kisses it. His lips linger there and I feel my heart skip. Butterflies dance in my stomach and it’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful. But then all too soon his face pulls back, and he looks up at me.

“I’m here. I’m not leaving you.” He promises, and there he goes punching another hole in my wall, making my tears speed up.

“Thank you.” I cry.

“You know, people always say we’re alike, but we’re really different in some ways.” Harry says out of nowhere. It catches me off guard so much that I nearly laugh.

“How?” I ask. In most respects Haz and I are very much the same. We have the same sense of humor, the same double level of immaturity and maturity. We’re both cuddly and ridiculous, both crazy and hyper.

“You don’t like to think about things. You hurt yourself so you don’t have to. And then there’s me. I over think everything. When something overwhelms me I run away from it so I can turn it over in my head for like…hours. That’s why I jumped out of the limo and then ran out yesterday morning. I just…I needed to think, just by myself. I know it’s stupid, but it helps.” Harry says, and I find that I’m smiling. Harry doesn’t open up much, so it’s sweet to see him do so.

“That’s not stupid.” I say. “It’s smarter than what I’ve been doing.”

He chuckles sadly, fingers ghosting over each imperfection.

“That’s for sure. But self harm isn’t that stupid either. I mean, it is, yeah. But now that I know why you do it, it doesn’t seem that ridiculous. You know?” Harry tells me, tapping an unknown rhythm on my inner wrist.

“Yeah.”

It’s silent for a few moments while he continues to touch each scar, cut, burn and mark. Everything.

“How come there’s only two of these?” He asks, pointing to a burn mark. It’s fairly healed by now, but still stands out.

“Uh, I’d never tried it until a few days ago. I didn’t have my razors so I had to resort to uh, other methods. You remember, when I stormed out of the room when you guys were teasing me about who I liked?” I remind him, and my heart stops when I realize I’ve just given away that I do like someone. But he says nothing, and just frowns.

“What other methods?” Harry questions. I could lie. I could specifically say anything other than the truth. But no, I tell him.

“Burning.” I admit, and he looks up at me in shock, his green eyes widening. “I um, read about it online years ago. You get something metal and heat it up with a lighter.”

“You…god.” My Haz says, a strange sob escaping him. I hate that he’s crying because of me. This is all my fault.

“That’s when Liam and Niall found me. If they hadn’t, I probably would have burned myself more.” I tell him, hoping the small amount of reassurance will make him feel better. I don’t think it does.

“So they’ve known since then.” Harry confirms, almost to himself. “What about Zayn?”

“He’s…” Embarrassment and self hatred washes over me. “He’s known for a week.”

“A week?” Harry asks, sounding betrayed. “All this happened in a week?”

“Yeah. Wow. Actually, wow.” I mumble in disbelief. “Funny…I spend years covering it up and being careful and then I open up and tell one person and then a week later, my life falls apart.”

“Open up?” Harry asks, hands falling away from my arms. I miss the contact. “You told him? He didn’t catch you?”

“I…”

This is it. This is the moment you come to in life when you’re at the fork in the road. Do I lie and keep my terrifying thoughts a secret like I’ve been doing up until now? Or do I take a leap of faith and tell him? Do I actually take that risk? It could break his heart. It could hurt him more than he already is. But look where lying has got me so far. I can’t do that again. So, trying not to have a panic attack, I take a deep breath.

“I told him because I was scaring myself. I was cutting and I was thinking about what it would be like…if I…ifIwenttoodeep.” I say quickly, so mumbled that it barely sounds human.

Haz seems like he understood, but it’s clear he’s hoping he didn’t. “What?”

“I was…thinking about what it would be like if I went too deep. I mean, god I do not want to die. I don’t, I’d never want that. But I was just thinking about what would happen if I cut through a vein or an artery, and when I came back to my senses I was terrified so I basically just ran and told Zayn. So…yeah.” I finish.

Harry is completely silent. He looks as if he’s having an argument in his head, and I start to worry he’s going to flee.

“Don’t go running away from me and over thinking. I’m trying to be honest. That’s a good thing, right?” I ask timidly.

Harry snaps out of his trance and flips his hair, using his fingers to mold it to his forehead perfectly. God, what I wouldn’t do to have my fingers in those curls, mouth on his, feeling his hands on my waist- whoa. Stop it.

“Yeah, it is. We’ll work through this together. I meant it when I said I’m not leaving you.” Haz whispers.

And then he’s leaning in close and I start to freak out, but stay frozen in place. His lips are getting closer and then he…kisses me on the nose.

Ugh. I know I should expect the disappointment by now, but it still hurts. My Hazza will never love me the way I love him. I care about him in ways he just doesn’t about me, and that thought alone feels like it wants to rip my heart apart.

“I’m not going anywhere either.” I assure him.

He topples forwards on his knees to crawl into my lap, curling up there. His mop of hair bounces as he lays his head on my shoulder, arms snaking around my waist. I grin when I feel him sigh happily, nuzzling closer as I wrap my arms around him protectively.

It’s not perfect and it’s certainly flawed, but the next few hours (filled with laughter, cuddles, reassurance and lovebites) have a mood of calm that feels like a new start.

****************************************

(Harry’s POV)

Three days later we’re on the tour bus, mindless banter filling the air. Niall is cuddled up with Liam, talking about food, no freaking surprise. Zayn is speaking to Louis about a YouTube fan video or something, and I’m quite happy to just sit and relax. There’s a movie playing on the tv, but nobody is watching it. In fact, it’s nearing the end and I haven’t spared it a glance.

Truth be told, my eyes have been trained on Lou. After opening up to me the other day, he’s been so much more relaxed. It’s amazing, really. And I can’t stop raking my eyes over him. His adorable nose, his strong arms, his infectious smile. It’s just too much.

“So are you going to give that Colin guy a shout?” Zayn asks out of nowhere.

I freeze, jealousy writhing around in my stomach. I shouldn’t feel like that but I do, and seeing the blush on Louis’ face just makes it worse.

“I, uh, hadn’t thought about it. Maybe, maybe not.” He answers, face reddening further.

“Come on, you guys were cute together! You could be the new ‘it couple’.” Zayn winks, but I can see discomfort on Lou’s face.

“I dunno if I’ll even see him again, I mean-”

“Dude, you can’t back down now! He was cute, he thought you were cute, he was chill and from the thirty seconds that I talked to him, he was pretty damn funny.” Zayn pushes.

By now Louis looks fully embarrassed, almost as if he’s overwhelmed. I know for a fact he has anxiety and from the new information he’s shared with me about his self harm, I know this conversation is going to a bad place. His breathing starts to speed up and I’m pretty sure only I would have noticed such a small change. But I do, and protective instinct takes over.

“Leave him alone, Zayn.” I say calmly, the tone low and surprisingly harsh.

Zayn turns to look at me out of surprise, seeing as though I hadn’t joined in the conversation till now.

“I was just saying….” He mutters.

“Yeah, well maybe you shouldn’t. Lou can make his own choices, stop trying to influence him.” I nearly growl. And damn, that was harsh.

I see Louis look up at me with a mix of appreciation, gratitude and is that….no. It can’t be lust. There’s no way. I’m seeing things again, great.

“Geez, wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Harry?” Zayn teased, but I wasn’t in the mood.

I was so sick of these stupid feelings swimming through my head, never leaving me alone. The constant need to be around Louis, to feel his fingers on me, his lips on my forehead, his breath on my neck. But then…I want more. I have this indescribable need for more. Need for his fingers really on me, his lips on my lips, his breath on my neck all shuddery because of me. And god, those thoughts are scaring me.

“Fuck off.” I mumble. It’s not teasing like usual, and even I cringe at how rude I sound.

“You okay, Haz?” Lou asks, and god I just hate how concerned he is. I’m not even in control of myself anymore, and I don’t know why. Yes, you do.

“No.” I admit. I’m just too exhausted to lie.

I see his eyes darken with concern, bright blue turning to a stormy mess. I try to ignore the way he’s looking at me; like finding out what’s wrong is the most important thing on earth. Like I’m the most important thing on earth. No, I’m seeing things again. I must be.

“What’s wrong?” He asks immediately.

I think about answering. Really, for just a second, I do. But then I look around to see Zayn staring at me with a hurt expression on his face, and Liam glancing over worriedly, and Niall giving me a clear, pointed quirk of his eyebrow. And then I think about how Louis has been hurting himself all this time, being too overwhelmed. If I told him, it would ruin him. It would add so much pressure to his life, and there is no goddamn way he’d ever feel the same. Who knows, he might try and do something idiotic. And god, it would change my world. Everyone’s world. I’m just adjusting to this new reality, I can’t go and change it even further.

“Nothing.” I mutter, stand up and walk away from everything.

I find myself in me and Louis’ bunk. Technically we have our own separate ones, but we never use them. I’m always snuggled with him in the bed above Niall’s, ignoring the kicks he’ll give us if we don’t shut up. And trust me, we don’t. Bed time on tour is just a special time for us. We cuddle together and just mumble random things. Ask each other questions and learn new things about each other, which yes, is weird because you’d think we’d know everything, but we don’t. He asks about my favorite Christmas dinner and I ask about his sisters and the games he played with them. Those are my favorite nights. Probably Louis’ too, I assume. And Niall’s worst, I can gather.

So now, lying there in the semi dark room, I feel rather empty. I stare at the ceiling, nearly giggling at the drawings we’ve drawn on with Sharpies, ignoring the fact that this isn’t really our bus despite it feeling so. But the little doodles of carrots and the random phrases (such as ‘Louis loves Harry more than anyone else, suck my dick!’) are just too perfect to ignore.

My finger reaches out and traces a particular scribble; ‘Hazza + Lou Bear’ with a heart around it. Instantly, I start to tear up. Childishly, I continue to run my finger over it, sniffling all the while.

“Curly?” Comes Lou’s voice, and I jump, yanking my hand away. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

There’s something so desperately pleading about his tone that I can’t refuse him. Well, mostly. I scoot over as a silent invitation. Louis crawls up onto the bunk, legs intertwining with mine amazingly. I’m still silent as I take a moment to study his face. He’s chewing on his lip, a tell tale sign that he’s worried, and his eyes are still dark with concern.

“So?” He asks, after I’m still quiet.

And then I don’t know what to say, because what lie can I possibly use to cover this up? He’ll see right through it, he always does. There’s no fooling Louis Tomlinson. There just isn’t.

I shake my head, not knowing what to do.

His hands find mine, bringing them up between our chests. His soft fingers fit between mine perfectly, and I feel electricity spark down my spine. God, the things he does to me. And he doesn’t even know. He can’t know.

“I can’t.” My voice cracks. I sound weak and stupid. But it’s all I can manage.

“Please.” Lou says in that goddamn perfect voice, and I can feel my resolve wearing away. No, stop it, get your shit together.

Lou knows that words won’t be enough. He knows me, he knows how I think. His finger tips reach up away from my own and trace my cheek bone, sending shivers through me. They find my curls and I let my eyelids flutter closed, bliss settling in my soul. He knows just how I like them to be tugged, twirled, pulled at. And that’s just what he does, to the point where I’m biting back a moan.

I open my eyes only to be met with the sight of Louis Tomlinson, an inch or two away from me, staring at my lips. Suddenly I’m self conscious and blush a deep shade of red. But he doesn’t look away, and I start to wonder why he’s looking there. It can’t be because….no. No, I’m being insane. Are you? Yes.

But god, does he not look gorgeous. My willpower is just draining away as I take in every little detail that you can’t see from far away. Little freckles around his nose, a slight stubble on his cheeks. The way that his top lip is smooth but his bottom is rougher from being bit all the time. Exactly how long his eyelashes are: going far enough to touch his cheeks when he blinks. And of course, the way his gorgeous blue orbs have speckled spots, like someone flicked paint into them.

Well, there goes any ounce of self control I have.

“Tell me.” He whispers when he looks up to see me staring. (And did he just blush when he realized I saw him staring at his lips? No, I’m imagining that. Must be.)

“I…I can’t.” I say, my voice breaking. Tears reach my eyes because god, why can’t it be simpler? Why can’t we live in some other world where I could kiss him and love him and make him my boyfriend? Because it hurts to admit it, but that is all I want. That’s it. He’s the most amazing person in the world.

And then he does something that I swear to god might have sent me to heaven. His lips lean in close, and brush against mine. The shock that rushes through me is overwhelming, because since when does Lou go around kissing me? Well, it’s not a kiss, I suppose. His lips simply touch mine, lingering there for a delightful moment, before pulling back with reddened cheeks.

My breath escapes in a shuddery sigh, and I nearly forget where I am. I look back up to his eyes and he’s already staring, making my heart stop. God, those amazing blue eyes.

“Please.” Lou begs again, and that’s it. I’m done. I can’t deny him anymore, because holy shit, I’m in love with everything about him.

“I…I don’t want you seeing Colin.”