The Degradation (translation)

We can

William Shakespeare wrote: "I am afraid of your fear, because I can hardly bear my own." Every time I close my eyes, I think Louis is whispering those words. I don't want to scare him with my fears. No one should be afraid of them but me. These are my fears, not his. They must not destroy him as they have destroyed me.

***

Louis' pov

I often imagined my first awakening next to Harry. To be honest, I imagined him every time he wasn't around. And each time I imagined the perfect morning. The one that is shown in the movies, and which everyone dreams about. I would have opened my eyes and he would have been lying there, already awake, watching me sleep. I would say a hoarse "Good morning" to him, and he would answer me in an even hoarser voice and kiss me. We would have had breakfast in each other's arms and stayed in bed for hours. Bastard would have eaten half of our croissants, and I could have knocked over my orange juice. He would smile and kiss me again. Yeah, I know, nothing is more stereotypical and impossible to think, but... That's how I always imagined our first morning. Happy. And nothing else.

But when has fate ever been interested in my wishes? Everything happened exactly the opposite. When I opened my eyes, he wasn't watching me sleep. When I opened my eyes and saw him, my heart didn't start beating hard with joy and happiness. Conversely. It clenched as if it had only been practice last night. The first thing I felt was pride. He was with me. For the first time. But that evaporated in the blink of an eye when I realized he wasn't supposed to be here. This is wrong. It's fake. He didn't want that, he shouldn't be here. He was just too tired to leave before I woke up. It was as if a dream had forced him to stay. There were still traces of tears on his cheeks. Did he cry in his sleep? I wondered for a few seconds if he was really asleep, or if he was just pretending. But no, he's asleep. He's curled up against me, breathing hard. And it's hard to accept. Even in his sleep, he feels bad. Sleep is the only time when you can not think about anything and just... to sleep. But his features are so distorted that it's hard to look at. It's as if pain is his constant job, and he doesn't have the right to take a vacation, or a day off, or even a lunch break. I was afraid. It was painful. It was only then that I realized that staying would be a mistake. That this morning can't be ours because he doesn't want to be here. Because if he could physically wake up and leave, he would. He sleeps in my arms not because he loves me, but because he's in pain. Because it's not ready yet. He just passed out and couldn't wake up in time. I don't know what went through my head, but I panicked. I had a feeling that if I stayed and made him wake up next to me, it would be a betrayal.

Our first morning means even more to him than it does to me, and I don't want to ruin it. It means too much to us, and I don't want to remember this moment as a morning when he just didn't wake up in time to leave. No one has forgotten what happened last night and I only need to look at him to know that the wounds haven't healed yet. That one night can't change everything. That would be too easy. "I never want to see you again." The words were still ringing in my head, and I was afraid. Yes, I'm a coward, but...I don't know what he's thinking, and if he wakes up and says it again, then...I just can't stand it. It hurt me to hear it the first time, and if he says it again now, I'll just die. I'm not strong enough to stand the way he pushes me away again. So much was mixed up in me, and I was afraid. He got scared and left. I kissed him on the cheek, whispering into the void so he wouldn't push me away. Then I got up and left a note on his pillow. So that he would notice her as soon as he woke up.

«I didn't leave. I'll meet you in my car. - Lou.»

Because I couldn't stay, but I couldn't leave him either. It's eleven in the morning and I've been in the car for almost two hours. I remember everything that happened last night, feeling the same pain. I tell myself that I made a huge mistake, that I shouldn't have left him. It would remind him of the morning Samantha died. I'm scared. I'm always afraid that I did something wrong, I'm afraid of his reaction but... I still feel like I did the right thing. That I shouldn't be there. That this morning is not ours. That it is not his we should remember all our lives, because it is not perfect. But I can't stop being nervous. My hands are shaking and my stomach is clenching uncomfortably, but all I can do is wait. Because both he and I know that Harry isn't ready to wake up next to me yet.