Hate is an emotion. Love is a lifelong circumstance, sometimes even after that.

*LOUIS' POV*

I shut off the tap after all the dishes are done. My eyes linger on the sparkling clean dishes that reflect the lightbulb's radiance so inadequately. We really need a dishwasher and I accept no arguments on the matter. I drain the sink and wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, only to leave a large serving of foam on the skin above my eyebrow. I groan in pent-up irritation while using a cloth to wipe it off; my movements are haphazard and the end result is reddened skin.

Everything seems to be fucking with my willpower. My breathing changes from pressed down
and panicked to shaking and panicked.

I love you.

The words seep into my mind like hydrogen as an aftermath and I shake my head in such fervent denial it's astounding. He doesn't love me. Why would he? Okay I know why he would but........but nothing.

It's such a strong word, its definition is the least understood by any generation through centuries of misguided hope, yet the four-lettered syllable is the most powerful. He doesn't grasp its meaning, love is too complicated to use now or when considering our relationship.

I love you.

No. He doesn't love me. It's impossible to. Feelings, he has feelings for me but he can't love me. Feelings could be anything from hate to deceit and beyond into the unknown territory of lusting after companionship.
For the first time, I want to go to work just so that an escape was possible. Space and time to think. I wanted to think about him as well, what must be racing around in his languid mind upstairs. I just couldn't anymore. I wanted to think in my own perspective.

I love you.

His voice won't fuck off from my track of desperate rationale. Can't things go back to how it was? Tears spring to the corners of my eyes involuntarily. Please make it go back to how things were before I met Harry. Everything hurt so much less.

I love you.

Fuck. I need a nap, preferably one that will silence my headache and relentless imagination that keeps thinking up scenarios of Harry and I in the future.
Abandoning the task of scrubbing all kitchen surfaces, I stumble into the bedroom before realizing that the mattress is still in the living room. My lips part far enough to let an ungrateful grumble leave through the space created. I think about how if any outsider were to waltz into this little flat, they'd immediately assume that drug lords lived here. Ten minutes into my indepth mental discussion I fall asleep to the memory of vibrant green eyes and confessions of love on the hard bed.

*NARRATOR'S POV*

Flashback

"I love you."

Harry looks down at his fingers before receiving no response from Louis and glancing up. "Lou? Say something."

Louis swallows thickly, he feels his trachea closing in on itself and he wants to cry. He thinks frantically, vying after any possibility of avoiding this topic of discussion. After a futile attempt at scrambling off Harry's lap and away to a locked room, he finds himself held back-to-chest against Harry's rapidly beating front in his boa-like grip. His own heart beats thrice as fast but none the steadier and his nostrils flare from a strange hot feeling. Not warm. Hot. He has to get away from Harry.

"Louis? Please say something to me."

But Louis is stunned into a silence so strong that it rises as a ball of pain in his throat. Like bile that's leaving a tinge of acid as it moves. He is afraid to speak, knowing it will come out as a disgusting sob. His motions of fidgeting rapidly escalates when he uses all the strength he was born with to remove himself from Harry's lap. The bigger man just holds on tighter, more aggressively around Louis' waist and chest with his face hidden in Louis' neck. He feels the pulse so strained and afraid that he has to kiss it better so he does. It reminds Louis of an overprotective predator that has fallen for his prey, the misinterpreted demeanor and scattered emotions could destroy someone.

"I do love you. Ever since I saw you with your friends so long ago. Please, Lou." Harry rocks them a little, trying to get the smaller man to stop fighting him. "Please."

You see, Louis couldn't see Harry's face and that's why he didn't see what was happening to him. Harry's face was pained and expressive but he had a good reason. Louis was his pacifier and stability in more reasons than one. While Louis' fingers dug into Harry's hands and his teeth bit painfully down on his swollen lip, Harry's back was arching in persistent attempts at escaping the horror that is sure to become of it. Pain, was all Harry seemed to know. Pain is what he understood and that is why he will sacrifice it all to keep pain away from Louis. Red lines, burn marks of an angered entity watching them in contempt was clawing at Harry to get him to stop. Stop saying he loved Louis and stop moving on from her. She shrieked but only Harry could hear, he simply hid in Louis' hesitant neck further like she couldn't touch him there.
Louis didn't know whether being afraid was a permitted thought so he shoved it back. His eyes were screwed shut and sweat trickled down his neck like a village evading attack. His heart hammered in his constricted chest, arms now pinned to his torso with Harry's embrace engulfing him entirely. Harry's own body was clammy and warm but he kept trying to comfort his Louis, planting gentle kisses everywhere that his lips could reach.

She kept at it too and Harry continued to hide but take it because it was better than letting her touch his Louis. Louis was oblivious and nestled between Harry's long legs that seemed to wrap around him as well as his arms. The blanket that surrounded them formed an inpromptu nest that hid everything South of their navels.

When Harry would jolt from a painful shock, Louis didn't know what he was doing or what was the charge. Harry was rigid and draped over Louis like a shield. If only Louis knew how real that metaphor was.

"Harry?" Louis couldn't help himself when Harry started shivering. "Harry!"

But Harry wasn't listening. All he heard was Louis' heartbeat and shut out everything else. It was
a loud strain of thumping, a melodious tune to Harry's abused ears. She was whispering terrible things in Harry's ear, using a vindictive tone that would make anybody scream so it would stop.
Not Harry. He had Louis in his arms keeping him calm, his Louis who had stopped fighting him.
In a moment she's gone and the lights are back. Harry and Louis both hadn't noticed that they'd went out out. Before Louis could ground himself and ask for time, Harry had followed a path to
the attic still naked.

Flashback End

*LOUIS' POV*

My back hurts and I regret every bit of motivation that had lined up to make me sleep on the toughest surface ever. But that's not it exactly, because it usually ever is. I'm nailed to the mattress by a weight of no evenly distributed proportion, my lower half is at least. Sleeping on my front proves a disadvantage so I can't flip over but with the craning of my stiff neck and popping of muscle knots, I can see what the problem is.

Harry is asleep, a second comforter brought up to cover him though his fingers curl tightly into my sheeting. His position is less desirable right now, his turned cheek on my extremely lower back and his chest on my bum. Clever. I roll my eyes before slumping back down to put my head on my folded arms.

I love you.

I felt......conflicted about not following Harry up into the attic last night while he had on his birthday suit. That phenomena was unexplained and I didn't get the chance to ask before dozing off. He must have snuck in last night to sleep here while I was out for the count. I have no way of knowing the time and don't care for once - or twice - in my recent life.

I give our silence ten approximate minutes before deciding that I can't go without knowing the time. I prop myself up on my elbows before delicately pulling myself out from under Harry's massively heavy frame. He notices my absence and makes useless grabby hands at everything. My narrowed eyes land on his back, unhidden and bare for all to see as he snores.
There is anlawful amount of new cuts across the skin. I gasp and reach out for him, swiping my thumb over scabs and still bleeding marks. The first thing I feel is self-hatred and the last is pity. Did he hurt himself? He couldn't have. Why would he? Was it me?

I swallow my inner monster and get the medical alcohol that will undoubtedly cleanse Harry's back so it can be bandaged. The kit needed to be restocked but I also pray that there will be no need for it again.

He stirs when I carefully lift myself onto the bed, sitting on the backs of his thighs so I can complete my task without strain.

My ears twitch at muffled sounds and I freeze. He does not shuffle or make a move while I go about wiping cotton swabs over every injury. Sometimes he flinches or hisses, but his eyes stay shut even in the physical discomfort. I brush his hair out of his eyes, so in the case that he does lift his eyelids he won't be rewarded with several pokes from the tips of his hair strands.
I sigh with my mouth closed, a soft sign of such a fierce loss of words and decisive notions. Quietly like I've been privately hiding out in the CIA's library, I get off him and hurry to have a shower.

I'd be lying if I said that while I'm restocking the tape isle, my heart didn't lurch at every bell sound from the door. I feel miserable for leaving Harry to wake up on his own, an empty bed and no breakfast at hand. My note was simple too.

At work. Didn't want to wake you. - L

With a lengthy sigh and an empty shop, my fingers do the dance across my keypad and dial a familiar number after returning to the counter. My father answers on the fourth ring. "Louis?"

"Hey, Dad. Sorry I couldn't call yesterday." I hastily respond with my reason for letting Phoebe down.

"Here's Phoebe." There's no telling whether he got my greeting when I hear slight shuffling then a frantic small voice. "Louis!"

"Hey, baby girl." I smile into the evenly spaced holes at the bottom of my phone that serve as a receiver and speaker.

"Why didn't you call? You said you'd call!"

"I'm sorry, bub. Yesterday was a busy day." That was only half a lie.

"Oh alright. Is Harry happy?" People's questioning gazes would be endless at this point if they heard her question. It's just Phoebe's way.

"I'll have to ask him." I fake chuckle for her benefit.

"Is he angry?" Her tone is suddenly sad.

"Not sure." The regular but just as annoying bell jingles above the door and I glance up. Perfect.

"You can ask him."

When Harry approaches the counter I hand him the phone I'm using to keep a conversation going with Phoebe on. His brows create a single knot of confusion before taking it. I mouth my sister's name to him and on comes his warm smile.

Good for me on avoiding a positively awkward conversation for the next five minutes.

"Hi, Phoebe......No I'm not angry, love.....Really? He was bluffing then.......How's your new room?......That's great! You love pink...Yes, I know. Not all the pinks, just the one on your lunchbox........Louis' okay. I just came to ask him to lunch.....I don't know where yet.....Alright. Bye, angel."

I skillfully - or not - drop my gaze to the keyboard I have been fake tapping away at while they spoke. Harry's a better brother than I am. During their animated conversation, I found myself laughing at the variety of voices Harry used to amuse my sister or letting my eyebrows be acquainted with my hairline when my name was brought up. He hangs up and hands me back the device that takes me a solid three minutes putting away into my jeans pocket.

"I guess you know why I'm here now." Harry says in a voice so low I think my ears may have failed me.

I don't know how to answer that so I smile and nod cautiously, eyes still glued to my boring computer screen.

"Would you like to? Go to lunch, I mean. When's your break?"

"Not for another twenty minutes." I inform him without consulting with the clock. "But Seth needs
me to stay in and cover for him today."

I refuse to look at him but my restraint is being worn away by the coarse surface of my curiosity.

"Oh. Um...Louis?"

"Hmm?" I chew on the inside of my mouth, tasting just a hint of blood.

"Are you- Are you mad at me?"

A parting sigh leaves my lips before I look up. "No." Truth is, I'm pissed at myself for treating Harry like I did - most of the time. I'm a horrible person. "You don't deserve that."

When he speaks next his eyes are very much attracted to his shoes. "Do I deserve you?"

And pop goes my heart. I stare at all his features with an intense non-verbal command for him to look at me. He doesn't but I suspect he still wants a response. Hopping down from my chair and depressingly lessening my already stunted height, I stride around the counter to be next to him.

"Look at me." I say softly. Only for him to hear.

"I'll move out."

Arguments fly out. "What? Why? Don't be silly, Harry. You can't move out. Where will you go?"

"I'll go back. To Lost Lake. I know I've overstayed my welcome and now I'm just making you upset so-"

"Harry." I halt his babbling firmly. "Don't say that and you aren't moving out."

He grants me a burdened glance that breaks my heart. He may be the biggest and scariest man I know but he's also the most helpless.

"I love you, Louis. You believe me, don't you?" He steps closer to me, but with Harry I have no personal space that he can invade.

"Harry. Not now-"

"No." He shakes his head and takes my hand in his. "I want to die knowing you love me. You have no idea what I'd do for you, Lou." All in my stunned state of mine, Harry takes this chance to press my back against the counter. "I just want you to love me back. Tell me that and I can part with this world a happy man."

I open my mouth to say something, watching his eyes burn into the deepest part of my soul. Love. What a many fucking splendid thing.

"You don't actually plan of leaving me that soon, do you?" I offer up a small smile while my fingers comb through the hair at the nape of his neck.

The grin that spreads on his face is one that could outshine any, I imagine that his cheeks start to hurt and so he zeroes in for an unhurried kiss instead. I didn't even have to admit a thing for him to know. It was an untuitive ability he had for me, or everyone I suppose. He just knew.

"I'm at work, Harry." I warn him with only half a will. "Seth will be walking through that door in a
few seconds."

"Let him see." He mumbles into my neck and shoulder. "Let everyone see. You love me." There's that grin again only now it's accompanied by a blush on my part. "C-Can you say it?"

"Say what?" I keep myself hidden in his mass of limbs.

"That you love me. I need to hear it."

"You love me." I match his grin cheekily.

The not-so subtle pinching of my bum makes me gasp. His voice comes out strained.
"Please?"

"I love you, nut." I succumb to my lust for dimples and kiss them both before he laughs.

"I love you." He tilts my chin up to kiss me again.

"Do you have any idea how much of a field day Seth will have if he catches us?" I motion with my hand in an indicative manner towards our current position of me being hoisted
uncomfortably midway on the counter with Harry between my legs.

He kisses my nose and I frown. "I don't care because you love me."
[A/N: This chapter is more of a filler, really. I apologise for its length. Next Chapter shall be out tonight :) I honestly hope you know how much you mean to me because just those few mornings I wake up to see comments and your lovely words makes me smile so I love you all - Sxx]

Notes

[A/N: This chapter is more of a filler, really. I apologise for its length. Next Chapter shall be out tonight :) I honestly hope you know how much you mean to me because just those few mornings I wake up to see comments and your lovely words makes me smile so I love you all - Sxx]