Eroda Sunshine

Breaking down Walls

Did he hear him right?

"Seriously? You don't wanna go back home?" Harry was horrified.

"Well? Why would I want to? Go back to a life where I never get any sleep and all I do is work me ass off?"

Harry was taken aback. He wondered if Louis was just blowing off steam by citing bullshit nonsense. Being a doctor was important to Louis; at least it had been at one time. Harry could tell by Louis' expression whenever he'd brought it up in conversation. Those years of training . . . Louis hadn't gone through it for nothing.

"You really mean that? I mean, it's kinda daft, innit?"

Louis, settled a bit now, looked reflective – almost pensive. "Yeah, sounds ludicrous, but the more I think about it . . . I know I've been more content here than I was back home. I can do what I want, when I want. Sure, I have chores to do daily like choppin' wood and catchin' fish, but I set the rules, not someone else. I decide when to take a break. Hell, I can even take a nap if I want to! Couldn't do that while I was in medical school. If I did, I'd never keep up, and end up havin' to drop out, or failin.' I like the freedom here. Even if I was lonely."

Harry bit his lip and mustered up his courage. Should he say it?

"And now that I'm here . . . ?" Harry quivered with trepidation, a smudge of anticipation included. Eager yet treading carefully, dreading Louis' possible reply.

Louis looked out at the sea languidly and then back at Harry. Their eyes met, and he pinned Harry's eyes with his own. Blue adhered to green, his gaze lingering, not snapping away as had so often happened prior.

Harry held his gaze, determined not to look away. This was important, and Harry wouldn't let himself shy away. He had already asked Louis if he wanted him here, but this time it was different - suddenly crucial, critical.

"Now that you're here . . . " Louis shifted, cleared his throat, scratched at the stubble on his cheek before bothering to answer. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was stalling purposely or if he was just searching for the right words.

"In the time you've been here, what? Three weeks?"

"Three and a half," Harry corrected him. He'd left marks in the bark of a certain tree every day since the second day he'd been here to keep track.

"In the three and a half weeks you've been here, you've taken a load off me. There's so much less work . . . "

Harry cut him off. "That's not what I was askin.' I wanted to know how you feel about me bein' here."

Now Louis looked acutely uncomfortable.

"Look, Harry. I don't talk to people, yeah? Sure, I bullshitted with the staff at the hospital, but I more or less had to, in order to fit in. That's different from me . . . personal life." His face had taken on a shade similar to a persimmon.

"If you live with someone, well, that's your personal life," explained Louis. "Whether you're married, have a lov-- a significant other, or just a good friend, that qualifies as a relationship. And that's a big part of your personal life. I've talked to you most nights since you've been here – sometimes nearly all night long. I just don't do things like that."

So, Harry supposed that must be a compliment?

Hell with it – Harry had to spit it out.

"So, now that I'm here, what do you think? Is it workin'? Not just work-wise, I mean." Harry could hardly stand the suspense. It seemed Louis was dancing all around the question, specifically avoiding giving him an answer.