After the End: Book 4

60. Contractual Obligation

A/N: I'm taking a creative writing class for the summer, and I'm literally so terrified to show any of my writing to anyone. Before I posted on WattPad I literally changed my screenname, changed my profile picture, and blocked anyone who even resembled someone I knew in real life. There is literally one person on here who I know in person. That's it. I don't even have any characters with my name. Not even a small side character. Not even a name close to mine. The point is, I am insanely terrified of actually writing something, and signing my name, and having to watch someone react to my work. Practically shaking over it actually. Not everyone is as nice as you all. It's scary.

Anyways it's 2 am. Enjoy late night edits.
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Louis POV

That week moved smoother than I thought it would. In part, it was because the expectations shifted down just a little. Harry was permitted time to rehearse for the festival he was performing at on Friday. It was gifted such importance that it seemed he was safe from impromptu interviews. We had enough tasks administratively that it made it easier to say no to things for the week.

I didn't know what I would have done otherwise given the way Harry crumbled after his meeting with his therapist that Monday. By the time he was bailing early on his support group, I knew he was burnt out. He was doing too much. I knew we'd be hitting walls soon.

Still, when I had visited Cory's grandfather the first time, I'd spoken mostly to Kaitlyn while hanging out in his vicinity. That wasn't the case for Harry. I'd brought him because I thought he could use the distraction, and because I couldn't stop thinking about the frail lonely old man without visitors, but while I spent a good portion of our time there casually talking to the staff, Harry had spent nearly the entire time deep in conversation with Francoís.

It was circular conversation. Franky was just as confused and disoriented in the discussion as before, but Harry seemed fascinated. He engaged in conversations about rainbows he couldn't even see. He talked about the weather, and he whined about the meeting he'd just left. He asked Franky follow up questions, and he didn't even flinch when Franky had mentioned his young infant granddaughter Coraline.

"She's going to look just like her maman, I can tell. Very beautiful," franky had informed him.

"Tell me about her," Harry had urged.

And so for a moment, before he'd gotten distracted, Francoís had told Harry all about his daughter-in-law, the beautiful blonde woman who had stolen his sons heart and sent him running back to France, even after he'd lived in London with his parents for more than a decade. I was sure Harry had meant Cory when he'd said her, but he still nodded along listening intently as Franky babbled.

On the way out, I'd gestured to the pictures on the fridge for Harry to see. He'd paused to observe them, then he pointed to the photo of the Eiffel Tower.

"I took that," he told me. He pointed to something small near the base. "That smudge right there is Cory. I forgot to zoom in."

He walked on out the door without acknowledging the picture of himself in the corner.

The afternoon had gone so well, that I'd been shocked by the amount of anxiety wracking my body by the following day. I woke up wrapped up in it on Thursday.

We had a busy day planned. Harry was interviewing in the morning, courtesy of Melvin again with only a bit of prior notice, and then we'd be touring and sound checking for the festival venue in preparation for the next days performance.

Harry admitted rather candidly in the car after the girls had been dropped off at school that he was not looking forward to either task. He blatantly told me he wanted to go to therapy again like he was supposed to, which was not a usual admission. The whole twice a week thing I'd implemented before Doncaster was failing miserably. Melvins scheduling took the option away. Harry still was unwilling to talk about issues regarding Melvin with me anyways.