Categories > Original > Romance > Baby, Look What You've Done To Me
Louis' alarm blares in his ears, a horrible reminder that he has to work today. It's not that he doesn't like his job, it's just the people that he has to work with. He pictures his boss to have a shelf in his home reserved just for his Asshole of The Year /awards, and he deserves every single one of them. His co-workers are complete know-it-all's, always thinking that they have a higher power over Louis and that they have a right to tell him what to do and how to do it. It's a fucking medical clinic, Louis thinks that he's pretty capable of sitting at a desk for eight hours a day and filling out paperwork and sending out orders on his own. But, it pays for this apartment and his schooling, so it's worth it. Besides, this year is his last year at school, and after he graduates he'll finally get to become a drama teacher like he's always wanted.
/
Louis rubs at his eyes and yawns loudly before sitting up and getting out of bed. He trudges down the hallway in just his boxers, set on going to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. As he passes through the living room, something moves out of the corner of his eye and he gasps loudly when he sees someone sitting on his couch. And then he remembers, oh yeah, I let a boy I barely know sleep on my couch last night.
"Jesus Christ, Harry." Louis breathes out, bringing a hand up to his chest. "What are you already doing awake?"
"I heard your alarm." He says simply.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep."
"It is okay. I do not need to sleep."
"Okay," Louis shrugs, "I'm just going to make myself a cuppa. You want one?" He asks, continuing his trek to the kitchen.
"No, thank you." Harry shakes his head.
Louis fills up a pot of water and sets it on the stove for it to heat up. As he's waiting, he realizes that he's still only in his boxers and he runs up to his room to quickly pull on a pair of sweatpants. He's pretty sure he's been putting on the same pair of pants everyday, even though they probably haven't been washed for over a week. He should really do some laundry. Louis grabs his phone and runs back to the kitchen to finish making his tea. He slowly drinks it as he looks through his Instagram feed - which he doesn't know why he does. All it does is remind him of how single he is, and how he's probably going to die alone in this apartment, what with all of his friends posting pictures of them and their significant others. Maybe Louis should get a dog.
He finishes his tea just in time for him to start getting ready and hops in the shower, officially beginning his work day. He styles his hair into his normal everyday quiff after he dries his body off and dresses in his work attire. His work doesn't require him to wear a uniform, you can wear just about everything as long as it's not sweatpants - which just so happens to be Louis' favorite article of clothing. But, oh well.
Louis runs back to the kitchen for the last time to grab his cell phone off the counter and tucks it into his pants pocket. He grabs his keys and wallet as well and goes to front door to put his shoes and coat on.
"I'm headed off to work," Louis informs Harry, who is still seated on the couch. "I apologize for not having a tv, but I honestly don't spend enough time here to have one. But, my laptop is in my bedroom, it doesn't have a password on it, so you can just watch Netflix on there. Erm," Louis taps his chin, trying to think of anything else he needs to say. He goes to the kitchen and finds a piece of paper and a pen, writing his phone number down on it and setting it next to the landline. He makes his way back to the front door and opens it. "I left my cell number on the kitchen counter, just in case something happens. You're nineteen, I'm pretty sure you've stayed home alone plenty of times. I'll see you around six tonight." He gives a small wave to Harry, the boy reciprocating the movement, and walks out of the apartment.
--
Harry is sitting on the couch, looking at the wall in front of him. The same walls that he's been staring at for the last ten hours. He was lying when he said that Louis' alarm woke him up, he actually hasn't been to sleep at all. Whether it's the way he is programmed, Harry doesn't know. All he knows is that for the past eight months, all he's done at night is stare at the ceiling, doing absolutely nothing, until someone comes into his room to get him up and ready for the days routine. He doesn't get tired, ever. But, that's probably the way it's supposed to be, so they can use him at anytime of the day that they want.
But, not anymore. Harry has Louis now, right? Louis said that he can stay here if he has nowhere else to go. And Harry sure as hell isn't going back. Never again. Not after what he had to go through.
Harry takes this time alone to explore the apartment a little. He walks into the kitchen and takes in the several contraptions - some of them have buttons on them and some of them have knobs on them, but Harry doesn't understand what any of it means. He's never been in a kitchen before, he's never had a reason to. He doesn't eat. He exits the kitchen and makes his way down the hallway to the bedroom. A queen sized bed sits in the middle of the room, a puffy white comforter spread over it, matched with black pillows and throw blankets. Two nightstands are placed on either side of the bed and a wardrobe is sat in the corner, a desk pushed up against the wall opposite of the bed.
All of the rooms that Harry has been in aren't like this. They're not decorated, they're not furnished. Just a bed, that's it. /They /didn't care if you had all of the finer things in life, as long as you did what you were made to do, that's all that mattered to them.
The laptop that Louis must've been talking about is sitting in the middle of his unmade bed. Harry sits down and it turns on as soon as he opens it. Then all of a sudden, his vision goes white, his ears start ringing and his head starts pounding - equivalent to the feeling of a thousand and one rocks falling on his head all at once. Harry shuts the laptop quickly and scrambles off the bed, falling to his knees and holding his head in his hands.
When the pain finally subsides, he opens his eyes and everything is back to normal.
/What the hell was that? /Harry thinks. That's never happened to him before. It must've been a reaction to the lighting of the screen or something. He isn't sure.
Harry decides to just leave the laptop alone, instead opting for just looking around Louis' room for a bit. He doesn't think that Louis would mind if he looked through his things. He's curious. Can you blame him? He goes over to the desk and sits down in the spinny chair, opening the drawer. There's a bunch of papers carelessly thrown on top of each other, everything from paperclips to candy wrappers tossed inside, almost as if Louis is using this desk as a storage for anything that doesn't have a specific place in his room, rather than an actual desk. Harry pushes the papers to the side, finding nothing of interest. At the bottom of the drawer, underneath all of the trash, is a book. Harry picks it up, opening it up to the first page, and sees that it's not the type of book that you read. Instead, it has writing in it.
November 12, 2009, 5:01 P.M
Mum says that doing this will help, though I'm not exactly sure how right she is. I thought I would just give it a shot anyways. I don't really know how to feel right now it's like my whole body has gone numb to everything. I haven't eaten in almost three days and I know that I probably should but just the thought of food makes me want to vomit.
I finally got tired of my phone ringing every five minutes so I decided that smashing it with a hammer was the best way to go. It probably wasn't but at the moment I honestly couldn't care less. I'm tired of getting pity from everyone I'm tired of hearing the same "i'm so sorry about what happened if you need anything just tell me" shit. I don't /want /anything from anyone I just want to be left alone. I've had nothing but people around me for the past two weeks and all I want is to just have time to myself I don't really think that's too much to ask.
I've never dealt with this kind of pain before I don't really know what to do with myself right now. I just wish I could fall asleep and never wake up again so I won't have to deal with this anymore.
Harry furrows his eyebrows in confusion and skips the next couple of pages.
August 29, 2009, 3:49 A.M
It's been four months and I still can't stop crying. I thought it was supposed to get better but it just seems like that with everyday that goes by it hurts more and more.
For the first month or so Zayn was the sweetest person ever, always coming over and taking care of me when my mum couldn't. Always bringing me my homework and classwork when I didn't feel up for going to school, which was almost everyday for a while.. But then i kinda just... I don't know, I got tired of feeling pathetic and worthless. I got tired of him feeling like he was obligated to wait on my hand and foot just because he was my best friend. I told him to leave and to not come back, that I could take care of myself. And for a while, he refused to leave and told me that I /needed /someone to take care of me, but I kind of just blew up.
Mum says that he still comes over every once in a while to check up on me but I still refuse to see him. I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me.
Harry continues reading every entry, feeling more and more sorry for Louis the further he gets into the book. Louis never really clearly states what happened, just expresses every single emotion he's feeling into writing, but from what Harry reads, he can tell that /someone /died. He just doesn't know who. He sits there for what is probably hours, reading.
August 4, 2011, 2:08 P.M
Today's her birthday. I went to the mall and bought her a necklace and some flowers. I spent a little over eight-hundred dollars, but its okay. She's worth it.
I went and visited her today. I gave her the necklace. I know she would've loved it. I saw her eyeing it every time we passed by the jewelry store. I told her that one day when I saved up enough money that I would buy it for her. I just never thought it would be in front of a gravestone.
November 30, 2011, 8:49 A.M
My therapist prescribed me some medication. I feel like such a freak sometimes. I feel like I should be over this by now.
There are times that I really think that stuffing a whole bottle of pills in my mouth is the best thing to do.
January 5, 2013, 4:25 P.M
I'm just over everything. I'm exhausted. I can't go through another day without her. I feel like there's a gaping hole in my chest and I can't breathe half the time. My life is empty without her. I just can't do this anymore...
January 13, 2013, 7:21 P.M
I've been in the hospital for a couple of days now. Zayn found me in my bedroom, unconscious, apparently. I don't remember anything that happened. My mum said they had to pump my stomach. They said that if Z had found me even one minute later, I would've been dead. And, honestly, I really wish he would've. I /don't /want to be here anymore. Why can't anyone understand that?
As he gets towards the end, the dates become more recent. Up to just a couple of months ago.
October 9, 2015, 9:18 P.M
Today's one of those days. The boys invited me out for a drink but I just... I can't right now. It's coming up to almost six years since. I still think about it. I still cry myself to sleep sometimes. How can I not?
I know that nothing I do is ever going to bring her back. But I just can't help but think that if I try hard enough, /something /will. I miss her so much. There are still days that I refuse to go to work and class, and I shut myself in my room. Zayn, being the saint that he is, brings me my coursework on those days. God bless him. I'm grateful to have such amazing friends, but I can't help but think that-
"What are you doing?"
Harry jumps about ten feet in the air, spinning around when he hears a voice behind him. His eyes widen when he sees who it is.
"I asked you a question." Louis says when Harry doesn't answer.
"Nothing, I was- I was just-"
Louis' eyes harden when he looks down and sees what Harry's holding in his hands. He stomps over to Harry and snatches the journal out of his hands. "Did I tell you that you could go through my shit?" Louis fumes.
"No, but-"
"No. No /buts. /This is a fucking invasion of privacy!" Louis yells, shaking the journal in his hand. "I invite you into my home, I- I give you clothes and a place to sleep, and /this /is what you do to repay me?"
"I'm sorry, I did not mean to make you angry." Harry apologizes.
"Oh yeah? Well, look how well that worked out, because I'm pretty fucking angry."
Harry opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it and looks down at his hands.
"You're lucky my mum raised me right, because if it wasn't for her, you would've already been out the door. /But, /you're no longer welcome in my room. I can't trust you in here by yourself anymore."
Harry nods in understanding. "I'm sorry for going through your things."
"I can't forgive you, but thank you for apologizing."
Harry nods again and scoots past Louis out of the room, back into the living room. He sits on the couch awkwardly and stares at the wall, the only he's ever been used to.
--
It's the weekend, and Louis doesn't have work, so Harry attempts to do something to make up for what happened yesterday. He goes into the kitchen and looks through the refrigerator and the cupboards, not recognizing anything at all. He sees a box on top of the fridge that reads /Froot Loops /and looks in the refrigerator and sees a gallon of milk. He thinks he saw somewhere that these two items go together, so he grabs a bowl and pours them in, bringing it down the hall to Louis' bedroom.
He hesitates, remembering what Louis said about Harry not being welcome in his room anymore. But, then he also stated that he couldn't trust Harry in there by /himself. /If Louis' there too, it's okay, right? He opens the door and sees Louis laying in his bed with a device in his hands, shining light down on his face. Louis looks up and raises his eyebrows.
Harry turns on the light and advances towards Louis' bed, handing him the bowl without a word. Louis takes it with furrowed eyebrows. "What's this?"
"I thought you might be hungry." Harry shrugs.
Louis eyes the bowl, "I need a spoon."
Harry nods and makes his way back to the kitchen. /A spoon? /He opens all the drawers until he finds something that /might /be a spoon..? He doesn't know. He runs back to Louis' room and hands it to him.
Louis bites his lip and closes his eyes. "This is a fork." He whispers, the corners of his lips tilting up.
Harry opens his mouth to apologize, but Louis shakes his head. "It's okay. I'll try."
Harry stands beside Louis' bed and watches him eat - well, /try /to eat. It seems he's having difficulty eating with the fork that Harry gave him. He finally gives up and places the now half full bowl on the bedside table. "What was that for?" Louis asks.
"An apology. For going through your stuff without permission."
"Well, I appreciate the effort. I take it you're not much of a cook?" Louis assumes. Harry shakes his head. "Yeah, me neither."
"Is there, erm- what was all that about?" Harry asks, referring to the book.
"I don't really feel comfortable talking about it."
"It was over six years ago, shouldn't you-"
"That still doesn't change the fact that it still /hurts, /Harry." Louis snaps. "You just- you wouldn't understand."
"You do not know what I have been through." Harry states.
Louis sighs, "I know. It's just not something that I'm ready to talk about. Especially with someone I barely even know. No offense."
"It's okay. I do not mind." Harry waves him off. "I will just- leave you alone. I am sorry, again, about yesterday." He says, backing out of the room, leaving Louis to his thoughts.
--
/
Louis rubs at his eyes and yawns loudly before sitting up and getting out of bed. He trudges down the hallway in just his boxers, set on going to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. As he passes through the living room, something moves out of the corner of his eye and he gasps loudly when he sees someone sitting on his couch. And then he remembers, oh yeah, I let a boy I barely know sleep on my couch last night.
"Jesus Christ, Harry." Louis breathes out, bringing a hand up to his chest. "What are you already doing awake?"
"I heard your alarm." He says simply.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep."
"It is okay. I do not need to sleep."
"Okay," Louis shrugs, "I'm just going to make myself a cuppa. You want one?" He asks, continuing his trek to the kitchen.
"No, thank you." Harry shakes his head.
Louis fills up a pot of water and sets it on the stove for it to heat up. As he's waiting, he realizes that he's still only in his boxers and he runs up to his room to quickly pull on a pair of sweatpants. He's pretty sure he's been putting on the same pair of pants everyday, even though they probably haven't been washed for over a week. He should really do some laundry. Louis grabs his phone and runs back to the kitchen to finish making his tea. He slowly drinks it as he looks through his Instagram feed - which he doesn't know why he does. All it does is remind him of how single he is, and how he's probably going to die alone in this apartment, what with all of his friends posting pictures of them and their significant others. Maybe Louis should get a dog.
He finishes his tea just in time for him to start getting ready and hops in the shower, officially beginning his work day. He styles his hair into his normal everyday quiff after he dries his body off and dresses in his work attire. His work doesn't require him to wear a uniform, you can wear just about everything as long as it's not sweatpants - which just so happens to be Louis' favorite article of clothing. But, oh well.
Louis runs back to the kitchen for the last time to grab his cell phone off the counter and tucks it into his pants pocket. He grabs his keys and wallet as well and goes to front door to put his shoes and coat on.
"I'm headed off to work," Louis informs Harry, who is still seated on the couch. "I apologize for not having a tv, but I honestly don't spend enough time here to have one. But, my laptop is in my bedroom, it doesn't have a password on it, so you can just watch Netflix on there. Erm," Louis taps his chin, trying to think of anything else he needs to say. He goes to the kitchen and finds a piece of paper and a pen, writing his phone number down on it and setting it next to the landline. He makes his way back to the front door and opens it. "I left my cell number on the kitchen counter, just in case something happens. You're nineteen, I'm pretty sure you've stayed home alone plenty of times. I'll see you around six tonight." He gives a small wave to Harry, the boy reciprocating the movement, and walks out of the apartment.
--
Harry is sitting on the couch, looking at the wall in front of him. The same walls that he's been staring at for the last ten hours. He was lying when he said that Louis' alarm woke him up, he actually hasn't been to sleep at all. Whether it's the way he is programmed, Harry doesn't know. All he knows is that for the past eight months, all he's done at night is stare at the ceiling, doing absolutely nothing, until someone comes into his room to get him up and ready for the days routine. He doesn't get tired, ever. But, that's probably the way it's supposed to be, so they can use him at anytime of the day that they want.
But, not anymore. Harry has Louis now, right? Louis said that he can stay here if he has nowhere else to go. And Harry sure as hell isn't going back. Never again. Not after what he had to go through.
Harry takes this time alone to explore the apartment a little. He walks into the kitchen and takes in the several contraptions - some of them have buttons on them and some of them have knobs on them, but Harry doesn't understand what any of it means. He's never been in a kitchen before, he's never had a reason to. He doesn't eat. He exits the kitchen and makes his way down the hallway to the bedroom. A queen sized bed sits in the middle of the room, a puffy white comforter spread over it, matched with black pillows and throw blankets. Two nightstands are placed on either side of the bed and a wardrobe is sat in the corner, a desk pushed up against the wall opposite of the bed.
All of the rooms that Harry has been in aren't like this. They're not decorated, they're not furnished. Just a bed, that's it. /They /didn't care if you had all of the finer things in life, as long as you did what you were made to do, that's all that mattered to them.
The laptop that Louis must've been talking about is sitting in the middle of his unmade bed. Harry sits down and it turns on as soon as he opens it. Then all of a sudden, his vision goes white, his ears start ringing and his head starts pounding - equivalent to the feeling of a thousand and one rocks falling on his head all at once. Harry shuts the laptop quickly and scrambles off the bed, falling to his knees and holding his head in his hands.
When the pain finally subsides, he opens his eyes and everything is back to normal.
/What the hell was that? /Harry thinks. That's never happened to him before. It must've been a reaction to the lighting of the screen or something. He isn't sure.
Harry decides to just leave the laptop alone, instead opting for just looking around Louis' room for a bit. He doesn't think that Louis would mind if he looked through his things. He's curious. Can you blame him? He goes over to the desk and sits down in the spinny chair, opening the drawer. There's a bunch of papers carelessly thrown on top of each other, everything from paperclips to candy wrappers tossed inside, almost as if Louis is using this desk as a storage for anything that doesn't have a specific place in his room, rather than an actual desk. Harry pushes the papers to the side, finding nothing of interest. At the bottom of the drawer, underneath all of the trash, is a book. Harry picks it up, opening it up to the first page, and sees that it's not the type of book that you read. Instead, it has writing in it.
November 12, 2009, 5:01 P.M
Mum says that doing this will help, though I'm not exactly sure how right she is. I thought I would just give it a shot anyways. I don't really know how to feel right now it's like my whole body has gone numb to everything. I haven't eaten in almost three days and I know that I probably should but just the thought of food makes me want to vomit.
I finally got tired of my phone ringing every five minutes so I decided that smashing it with a hammer was the best way to go. It probably wasn't but at the moment I honestly couldn't care less. I'm tired of getting pity from everyone I'm tired of hearing the same "i'm so sorry about what happened if you need anything just tell me" shit. I don't /want /anything from anyone I just want to be left alone. I've had nothing but people around me for the past two weeks and all I want is to just have time to myself I don't really think that's too much to ask.
I've never dealt with this kind of pain before I don't really know what to do with myself right now. I just wish I could fall asleep and never wake up again so I won't have to deal with this anymore.
Harry furrows his eyebrows in confusion and skips the next couple of pages.
August 29, 2009, 3:49 A.M
It's been four months and I still can't stop crying. I thought it was supposed to get better but it just seems like that with everyday that goes by it hurts more and more.
For the first month or so Zayn was the sweetest person ever, always coming over and taking care of me when my mum couldn't. Always bringing me my homework and classwork when I didn't feel up for going to school, which was almost everyday for a while.. But then i kinda just... I don't know, I got tired of feeling pathetic and worthless. I got tired of him feeling like he was obligated to wait on my hand and foot just because he was my best friend. I told him to leave and to not come back, that I could take care of myself. And for a while, he refused to leave and told me that I /needed /someone to take care of me, but I kind of just blew up.
Mum says that he still comes over every once in a while to check up on me but I still refuse to see him. I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me.
Harry continues reading every entry, feeling more and more sorry for Louis the further he gets into the book. Louis never really clearly states what happened, just expresses every single emotion he's feeling into writing, but from what Harry reads, he can tell that /someone /died. He just doesn't know who. He sits there for what is probably hours, reading.
August 4, 2011, 2:08 P.M
Today's her birthday. I went to the mall and bought her a necklace and some flowers. I spent a little over eight-hundred dollars, but its okay. She's worth it.
I went and visited her today. I gave her the necklace. I know she would've loved it. I saw her eyeing it every time we passed by the jewelry store. I told her that one day when I saved up enough money that I would buy it for her. I just never thought it would be in front of a gravestone.
November 30, 2011, 8:49 A.M
My therapist prescribed me some medication. I feel like such a freak sometimes. I feel like I should be over this by now.
There are times that I really think that stuffing a whole bottle of pills in my mouth is the best thing to do.
January 5, 2013, 4:25 P.M
I'm just over everything. I'm exhausted. I can't go through another day without her. I feel like there's a gaping hole in my chest and I can't breathe half the time. My life is empty without her. I just can't do this anymore...
January 13, 2013, 7:21 P.M
I've been in the hospital for a couple of days now. Zayn found me in my bedroom, unconscious, apparently. I don't remember anything that happened. My mum said they had to pump my stomach. They said that if Z had found me even one minute later, I would've been dead. And, honestly, I really wish he would've. I /don't /want to be here anymore. Why can't anyone understand that?
As he gets towards the end, the dates become more recent. Up to just a couple of months ago.
October 9, 2015, 9:18 P.M
Today's one of those days. The boys invited me out for a drink but I just... I can't right now. It's coming up to almost six years since. I still think about it. I still cry myself to sleep sometimes. How can I not?
I know that nothing I do is ever going to bring her back. But I just can't help but think that if I try hard enough, /something /will. I miss her so much. There are still days that I refuse to go to work and class, and I shut myself in my room. Zayn, being the saint that he is, brings me my coursework on those days. God bless him. I'm grateful to have such amazing friends, but I can't help but think that-
"What are you doing?"
Harry jumps about ten feet in the air, spinning around when he hears a voice behind him. His eyes widen when he sees who it is.
"I asked you a question." Louis says when Harry doesn't answer.
"Nothing, I was- I was just-"
Louis' eyes harden when he looks down and sees what Harry's holding in his hands. He stomps over to Harry and snatches the journal out of his hands. "Did I tell you that you could go through my shit?" Louis fumes.
"No, but-"
"No. No /buts. /This is a fucking invasion of privacy!" Louis yells, shaking the journal in his hand. "I invite you into my home, I- I give you clothes and a place to sleep, and /this /is what you do to repay me?"
"I'm sorry, I did not mean to make you angry." Harry apologizes.
"Oh yeah? Well, look how well that worked out, because I'm pretty fucking angry."
Harry opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it and looks down at his hands.
"You're lucky my mum raised me right, because if it wasn't for her, you would've already been out the door. /But, /you're no longer welcome in my room. I can't trust you in here by yourself anymore."
Harry nods in understanding. "I'm sorry for going through your things."
"I can't forgive you, but thank you for apologizing."
Harry nods again and scoots past Louis out of the room, back into the living room. He sits on the couch awkwardly and stares at the wall, the only he's ever been used to.
--
It's the weekend, and Louis doesn't have work, so Harry attempts to do something to make up for what happened yesterday. He goes into the kitchen and looks through the refrigerator and the cupboards, not recognizing anything at all. He sees a box on top of the fridge that reads /Froot Loops /and looks in the refrigerator and sees a gallon of milk. He thinks he saw somewhere that these two items go together, so he grabs a bowl and pours them in, bringing it down the hall to Louis' bedroom.
He hesitates, remembering what Louis said about Harry not being welcome in his room anymore. But, then he also stated that he couldn't trust Harry in there by /himself. /If Louis' there too, it's okay, right? He opens the door and sees Louis laying in his bed with a device in his hands, shining light down on his face. Louis looks up and raises his eyebrows.
Harry turns on the light and advances towards Louis' bed, handing him the bowl without a word. Louis takes it with furrowed eyebrows. "What's this?"
"I thought you might be hungry." Harry shrugs.
Louis eyes the bowl, "I need a spoon."
Harry nods and makes his way back to the kitchen. /A spoon? /He opens all the drawers until he finds something that /might /be a spoon..? He doesn't know. He runs back to Louis' room and hands it to him.
Louis bites his lip and closes his eyes. "This is a fork." He whispers, the corners of his lips tilting up.
Harry opens his mouth to apologize, but Louis shakes his head. "It's okay. I'll try."
Harry stands beside Louis' bed and watches him eat - well, /try /to eat. It seems he's having difficulty eating with the fork that Harry gave him. He finally gives up and places the now half full bowl on the bedside table. "What was that for?" Louis asks.
"An apology. For going through your stuff without permission."
"Well, I appreciate the effort. I take it you're not much of a cook?" Louis assumes. Harry shakes his head. "Yeah, me neither."
"Is there, erm- what was all that about?" Harry asks, referring to the book.
"I don't really feel comfortable talking about it."
"It was over six years ago, shouldn't you-"
"That still doesn't change the fact that it still /hurts, /Harry." Louis snaps. "You just- you wouldn't understand."
"You do not know what I have been through." Harry states.
Louis sighs, "I know. It's just not something that I'm ready to talk about. Especially with someone I barely even know. No offense."
"It's okay. I do not mind." Harry waves him off. "I will just- leave you alone. I am sorry, again, about yesterday." He says, backing out of the room, leaving Louis to his thoughts.
--
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