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"Take my hand, I'll guide you back home."

~~~

Louis was torn between crying or staying strong for Harry but it was horribly depressing to watch as Harry leaned back in his seat, hands covering his face.

"Har-"

"Let's just go inside," Harry whispered before climbing out of the vehicle. Louis followed him out and he linked their hands together before climbing a pair of stone steps.

"Haven't been here in years," Harry mumbled as he pulled out his keys, jabbing a black key into the slot and opening the door. Louis coughed immediately as they stepped on the rug and a layer of dust flew thickly into the air around them.

Harry shut the door with his heel and guided the two inside and through the old house, Harry's eyes examining the framed photos on the wall, walking past two doors until he reached one with a caution sign tacked to it, entering his typical teenage bedroom.

Broken glass littered the floor and balled up scraped of paper were on the bed. To Louis's horror, a few blades were haphazardly set on the bedside table and it hurt him to think about how Harry used to harm himself so often.

Harry coughed awkwardly before letting go of Louis's hand and walking over to the bedpost, where he fiddled around for a second before grabbing something in his hand and walking straight past the older lad.

"Let's leave," he replied and Louis nodded obediently, following him out to the door. They got into Harry's car and he drove them away from his old house, now locked back up for another many years, possibly forever.

Cheshire was a cute little town and Louis liked watching the lights as they drove past, the grass frosted over and snow lightly falling as it became the winter season.

They drove onto a dirt road and went down until they entered a small cemetery, where Harry climbed out and made it around to open his boyfriend's door. He held the smaller man's hand and led them down to two small graves, eyeing the three headstones with a sad look in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" Louis asked sadly, rubbing his thumb over Harry's hand.

"I am."

"This must be your dad," Louis whispered, eyeing the third headstone with a man's name printed into it. Louis wanted to read all of the headstones here and comfort Harry, but his eyes were watered over, making it difficult to see.

"That is my father," Harry replied, pulling himself to sit down a few feet in front of the graves. Louis followed him down, Harry pulling him into his lap and they sat like that, Louis trying not to cry too hard but finding it difficult.

"Why are you crying?" Harry finally asked.

"It's just so sad," Louis sobbed out. "I... I feel so selfish because my parents are here and alive but I fucked up and they hate me-"

"It's not like you chose to be gay," Harry argued. "I chose to fuck around and be a pathetic excuse for a son and a brother. I should've been there-"

"Your stepfather should've been there," Louis snapped. "You were mourning over your father's death still. It was hard for you and I'm sure for your sister and your mum as well. They loved him just like you did."

Harry nodded, burying his face in Louis's neck as tears fell, making Louis cry harder. Harry was so, so strong in Louis's opinion. He'd been through so much and held back how hurt and upset and maybe even how terrified he was of being alone.

It was all about how alone he'd end up being, Louis realized. Harry had slept with his close friends because he'd be able to talk to them as well as distract himself and that was a perfect duo.

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