Burn to ash

Chapter 2

June 15, 2019

The meeting is at their old management company--old habits die hard, Louis supposes, remembering the dozens of times over the four years of One Direction they were called to this office. Most frequently it was him and Harry, so they could be told yet again that they were doing an utter shit job at hiding their relationship.

Four years. . .five years. Louis has a horrible, heart-wrenching realization that they've now been apart longer than they were ever together, and he has to grit his teeth together hard to hold back the gasping sob that wants to escape him.

He's a fucking wreck, plain and simple.

Liam called after Zayn left, and had actually been the one to insist that Louis didn't have to be there at all. He said that the others could just as easily speak for him, that he doesn't have to be there in person. What Li is really saying is that he doesn't have to face Harry.

But Lou knows better; he knows Harry better. If he's made his mind up about this fucking tour (and all evidence points to this), then he won't budge. The only chance they have is if all four of them are so against it they can somehow convince him it's a bad idea, that it isn't in their best interest.

One of the things he'd always treasured in Haz is how utterly selfless he is. Or he was, Lou corrects, still hating the fact that somehow, along the way, something intrinsic and fundamental in Harry's personality changed, and he became this horribly selfish, nearly mean person. The kind of person who self-destructs on purpose.

But Harry used to be sweet and caring and selfless, way back when, and that was the only way they could ever convince him to change his mind when it was made up--to say that if he continued on he would actually hurt one of them. Louis doesn't put much stock in this tactic working now, really too much has changed, but he agrees with Liam and Zayn and Niall that it's the only legitimate chance they have.

Still, Louis does not look forward to the moment he has to look Harry in the eye and tell him that he hasn't been on a stage in five years and that getting on one now will raze to the ground the tiniest bit of stability he's built for himself.

He will probably also have to deal with the fact that Harry doesn't even give a shit about that. After all, he hasn't given a shit about letting them know he was safe during the last five years.

Even a fucking text message to tell them he wasn't dead. Louis doesn't think he even slept the first year, the worry was so awful.

Eventually he learned to sleep, despite the worry and despite being alone, and he almost hated that more. Moving on felt wrong, like a shoe three sizes too small being crammed on his foot. But to become a functioning member of society again, Louis needed to move on at least a little.

Still, he's long come to terms with the fact that he will never stop loving the Harry of the X-Factor toilets and the Harry of the blazers and skintight jeans and glowing green eyes and soft, downy curls. He'll never get over the Harry with the tattoos and flat, muscular stomach and heat in his gaze. He'll never move past the way it felt to wrap himself around the boy he loves.

He chooses to remember those Harrys. He hates the selfish asshole Harry who threw his love away like it was nothing and chose to drown every sorrow alone instead of facing them together. He hates the Harry who left him and didn't even bother to say he was still alive.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Liam asks, putting a hand on Louis' back. The gesture is old and reassuring and Louis can almost see himself getting through this. At least the other lads are here, and if Harry does or says anything , he knows they will turn their backs on him in a moment. They're loyal lads, yes, and used to be so loyal to Harry and him and the band, but they've watched what the last five years has done to Louis. Plus, they've got every right in the world to be fucking pissed too.