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He’s watching him walk out the door.
Again
Watching everything fall apart- disintegrate.
Because there would have been a time that Harry would have never left, stayed comfortable in an oversized sweater, curls in shambles and buried his face into the crook of Louis’s neck as he whispered over and over how madly in love he was with him.
And Louis keeps telling himself that he’ll get that back, that it isn’t just some distant memory and he’ll have this blessed domesticity for a life time, a future filled with hope.
All he’s got is bitter words that he wants to say but doesn’t want to snap the ever fraying rope that is their relationship (is it even that anymore? When kisses aren’t even given?)
Nick is everything Louis could never be.
Proud, vibrant, unique and more than anything- brave.
Nick with his charming smile and with a blatant disregard for social constructions sweeps Harry away in a haze of dizzy nightclubs, new music and of course- pride.
Nick won’t shape himself, won’t bend over to the media and wears his personality, his dignity- everything on a blazing symbol on one of those ragged t-shirts with a witty slogan over his chest. Nick grabbed Harry by the hand, told him to ‘let go love, forget about everything’ and now Louis is left behind with a fake girlfriend, fake story and a fake smile, doing his goddamn best to keep himself happy, keep Harry safe. He can’t bear that Harry is losing track of that, leaving this fucking safety net that Louis is now holding with shaky fingers to stop everything from going to hell. Harry’s tired of Eleanor, tired of paparazzi and article after article and Harry wants out.
That’s what breaks Louis.
Harry wants out.
Harry’s done.
With the lies, with the pretense and with fake kisses on the street and desperate ones behind closed doors.
And that was fine, at the beginning.
Harry was happy to pretend, still sharing cheeky smiles and real real hugs for the cameras.
Then it all stopped.
Louis began avoiding his gaze, shying away- keeping clear of any possible mishap that could involve too much scrutiny, too many scandals.
And Harry was hurting.
Louis was hurting.
Louis was doing his best, tears pricking at the corner of cerulean eyes as he pleaded to Harry at night “I’m sorry, I’m- I’m so sorry but this is for the best and I love you so much that I can’t bear to see you taken away, she’s nothing Haz, I swear, I don’t want this, please don’t leave me”
Harry believed- still believes Louis. Louis loves him and he knows that.
But he can’t keep doing this, can’t keep trying and Louis is still holding on to the hope that Harry realizes that it was all for him, all for them, to keep an ‘us’ a ‘we’ rather than you and I.
It’s the Radio 1 Awards that break Louis.
It’s the way Harry’s hand slips from Louis’s shoulder, keenly attuned to Nick’s beck and call and turns back. Louis knows the cameras have captured this (he’ll watch it later on YouTube, grainy videos that can still display the blatant hurt on Louis’s face)
And Harry will stumble through the door at 3:00AM in the morning, stagger drunk into Louis’s (always) waiting arms and whisper about the fun he had with Nick and Louis will give in, because Louis loves and loves and can’t even begin to fathom why he’s broken when Harry’s peppering soft messy kisses down his jaw.
It changes.
So subtle that it slips through the media.
But the change is there, its Germany maybe, or Spain.
It’s the way Louis’s shirts begin to stem from Harry’s wardrobe. The way Harry’s lips are a little redder than usual, right after a bathroom break.
It’s the white paint coated in Harry’s hair, morning after Louis’s Halloween escapade.
It’s the return of the whispers, breathy promises so quiet but glaringly obvious.
It’s change. Harry drifts from Nick, Louis’s touches with Eleanor receding.
It’s the touches that grow, glances that are extending for minutes and minutes.
Its high-collared shirts to hide the truth from what everyone already knows.
And Louis is watching Harry walk back through the door, steaming coffees in large hands that are filled with hope and opportunity.
And Louis may not be broken anymore.