Eroda Sunshine

It hurts and Real Men Cry

As Harry looked back on it, that night had been nothing short of terrorizing. The winds must have been at eighty miles an hour, maybe more. Harry had watched as Louis observed the trees bending in the wind, some flexing so much they almost touched the ground, and then the Doncaster bloke had shut the hut door. Harry wondered if Louis were trying to spare him this, even if it meant immersing them in complete darkness.

Harry had taken note of Louis' bed being very close to his, where it hadn't been before. Somehow that helped take a tiny edge off his fear. He'd thrown everything he had into listening to Louis and following his instructions with the breathing and meditating to alleviate his anxiety, which had been severe. Louis had medical training, after all, and had a quiet, in control demeanor that most doctors had. He might be hyper, but he could dial down when he needed to.

The only sleep they'd had had been quick cat naps that lasted at most, five minutes. Strange, creepy noises ambushed them from every side; The wind gusting fiercely suddenly becoming stronger in waves, trees creaking in protest, twigs snapping, blowing leaves and other island debris. Louis talked to Harry throughout the night, and he was all that kept Harry from completely losing it. Harry was inexplicably grateful even though he didn't articulate it.

Sometime toward morning, before it started to get light, the storm began to let up, and Louis realized Harry must have fallen asleep. Louis found that Harry's breathing had slowed and that he wasn't as tense. Harry knew all this, even though he was in a light sleep. That was how in tuned into Louis he was. Sometimes he felt as if he could almost read Louis' thoughts. Louis never touched him, but stayed right there with him. In time, Harry's breathing evened out completely, telling Louis he was finally in a deep sleep. There were still raindrops splattering on the roof of the hut, but they were innocuous and innocent. Much like Harry, thought Louis.

Several hours later, Harry awoke. All was quiet and the morning light streamed through the window. The hurricane must have moved on. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. He'd been too knackered to stay awake any longer. Then he noted a slight pressure on his lower back. Looking back, he saw something that was hard to believe. Louis' hand was resting there, and their two beds had become one. Harry's heart lurched. Last he remembered, Louis' bed had been about a foot away, but now it was pushed up tight to Harry's; no doubt Louis was trying to be a source of comfort, even as Harry slept. That, right there, was caring and consideration. And Harry had thought Louis didn't possess much of that! Louis had taken care of him, but never in this particular way. In the beginning Harry had half-wondered if Louis had been so attentive because he needed Harry's help on the island. Now, as he reviewed that in his mind, he knew without a doubt that Louis would not have gotten so close to him in the night; even laying a protective hand on him, if he didn't have real regard for him. For the first time since he'd been here, Harry felt like perhaps he was not the nuisance he had feared he was; like Louis might really value him, and just might consider him a friend.

He remained still, relishing the warmth of Louis' hand through the blanket. It didn't last long though. Louis woke within half an hour, discovering his hand was still on Harry. He'd thought one or both of them would move during the night and it would be dislodged. But no . . . Harry had caught him. Harry's emerald eyes pinned his, but softly so.

"So the danger's over?" Harry asked in a light, easy way, hoping to convey to Louis that it was no big deal that his hand rested on him. Louis pulled his hand back slowly. He didn't snap it back as Harry would have imagined he would.

"Yeah, when it was over, I just fell on the bed and probably didn't move all night," he explained, the tops of his ears feeling hot in embarrassment.

"Let's go outside and assess the damage," Louis said quickly, before Harry mentioned anything about their beds being pushed together.