Chapter Seven

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A/N I'm all better! Fuck Covid, but now I'm ready to roll out of bed twice day instead of one. Wuhuu. 

When Louis wakes up, his hand is empty and so is the chair in front of him. His back is aching from sleeping in a funny position, but it wouldn't matter if Harry was still cuddled up in front of him. He isn't though, and Louis can't really determine whether it was nothing but a pleasant dream, an escape from this horrid reality where Harry isn't his.

The sound of cutlery clattering draws Louis' attention to the kitchen, and he shuffles to his feet, his back cracking in the process, releasing a soft sigh from Louis' lips. Just as he is about to head towards the sounds of quiet morning chatter, a familiar ringtone sounds from somewhere in the couch.

A creeping fear of having to talk to Simon, makes Louis want to leave his phone where it's buried, but deep down he knows that won't fix anything - nor will it make the next conversation any more pleasant. It turns out that the phone has crept its way beneath the two blue pillows Louis slept on - ones Harry had bought because they apparently compliment Louis' eyes. Such an utter fucking sap, Louis thinks with a fond smile.

Much to his surprise though, it is in fact not their manager calling, rather Harry's mom, and Lois suddenly realizing that he hasn't talked to her since Harry's accident - and her son probably hasn't either, despite always calling her every Tuesday night. Today is Thursday.

He knows he has to pick up the phone, owe it to her really, but god, if Louis wouldn't rather wipe this one off on Liam too. He can't though, considering Anne isn't only Harry's mom, but basically has been like Louis' too, even before he lost his own mom. So, he accepts the call and reseats himself on the couch.

"Ohh, hi love. It's been a minute. Harry probably fell asleep Tuesday night instead of calling me. It's lovely to catch you. At least one of my sons knows how to pick up his phone", Anne chitters happily in a teasing tone, and Louis realizes she probably doesn't know what happened. She did stop reading about her son online ages ago - it being too disturbing and stressful. This is worse, though, because now Louis has to break her heart a bit.

"Anne, hi", he breathes, and he knows Harry's mom can hear the strain on his voice immediately. She's almost as observant as her son when it comes to Louis.

"Honey, are you alright?" Instantly, happy chitter is replaced by worry, and when Louis doesn't answer: "Are you and Harry okay? Oh no, did you fight? Is that why he isn't picking up my calls - because he knows I'd tell him to apologize to the best thing he ever stumbled into?" The last question is asked jokingly, but the worry is still lying right beneath the surface. God, Louis isn't sure he can break her like this.

"Anne I-", Louis doesn't get any further before he has to stop a deep breath, trying to force the his sudden moist eyes dry. "You know you can talk to me, my boy". Alright, so screw stopping the tears, that goal is already far gone, Louis thinks; he just needs to get it out as quickly as possible.

"It's Harry. There was an accident," Then he realizes how that sounds, and Louis forces out the next words to ease at least some of the panic Anne must be feeling. "He isn't too hurt, I swear. God, I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner, I completely forgot in the midst of it all. He has a broken leg and he had an operation on his liver, but he is fine! Well, physically..."

Despite of the neck-breaking pace Louis has been talking at, he still has to gather himself to say the last part. Saying it out loud only makes it more painfully real.

"He doesn't... um... his memory is... it's bad. He remembers you, don't worry... He doesn't remember me", Louis stammers. There's quiet for a moment too long on the other end, and Louis really can't blame her for needing a second to take it all in. He prepares himself for a shitstorm, but the tone is much kinder than expected, when Anne speaks again.

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