17 Black (Part Two)

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hope u guys are swag

go eat and drink something please

i'm too tired to write my usual paragraphs so sorry for the lack of literally everything lmao

vote and comment if ur brain feels powerful enough to complete that very extensive activity

love u sluts (in a nice way)

-raine <3

(note: when Louis starts playing the guitar in this chapter, look up "cherry wine" by hozier on yt, but search for the version by patricia lalor. the vibe in that video is what you should think of when you read that part)

TW: mention of death, panic attack
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For the second time, now, Louis is startled awake by Harry having a nightmare. This time, though, it's very clear that Harry has tears streaming down his face, making the tiredness that's slowing down Louis' thoughts suddenly disappear.

"Harry," Louis says in alarm, quickly sitting up. He places his hand on Harry's shoulder, shaking him slightly. To his surprise, Harry actually wakes up, his eyes shooting open, his breathing shallow and fast.

His eyes lock with Louis', tears glistening in his eyelashes. Louis hand is still on Harry's arm, and he can feel that he's shaking.

"Harry?" Louis says gently, hesitation clear in his voice. Harry sits up slowly, wiping away the wet trails on his face. His breathing hasn't slowed down any, and Louis can see the panic in his expression.

"Hey," Louis says, running his fingers through Harry's curls. "Slow down, you're gonna start hyperventilating."

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but instead a small, broken sob escapes his lips, more tears spilling from the brims of his eyes. Louis frowns, moving to place himself on Harry's lap, one leg on either side of him, because that seems to be something that helps. Maybe it's just knowing that someone's there- Louis doesn't know.

Louis gently rests his forehead against Harry's as he continues to cry, and wipes away any tears that fall. Harry pulls in a shaky breath, clutching the material of Louis' shirt tightly in his fists. Louis shushes him, softly gripping his hair, trying to calm him down. He uses his other hand to press against Harry's chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat pound against his palm.

After what feels like an eternity, Harry's breathing steadies, though the tears continue to steam down his cheeks. Louis reaches to the beside table, grabbing a hair tie, and gathers Harry's hair in his hand, tying it into a loose bun to keep it out of his face. Harry rests his head in the crook of Louis' neck for a moment, before lifting it to look at him.

"What day is it?" Harry suddenly asks, his quiet voice breaking. Louis frowns in confusion.

"It's, um, the seventeenth, I think?" He supplies, wondering how knowing what day it is could possibly be of use to the situation.

Harry lets out a breath, closing his eyes. He bites his bottom lip, in what Louis thinks is an attempt to refrain from crying again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Louis asks, the tone in his voice making it evident that Harry doesn't have to answer. His hand cups Harry's jaw, moving his head so that they're looking at each other. Harry clears his throat, leaning slightly into Louis' touch.

"I, um," he says, wiping his eyes. "I don't know." Louis nods, brushing his hand up and down Harry's side. It's quiet for a moment, neither of them necessarily wanting to disturb the distant hum of silence that's filling the room.