Protect Him L.S. (Slow Updates)

Chapter 7

Louis -

"Just whenever you're ready."

"You almost finished?"

"How much did you have to drink?!"

Harry only rolls his eyes at me before finally finishing his business and zips up his jeans.

"Okay, let's go- do you really have to wash your hands?" I know it's supposed to be sanitary and all that shit, but who actually takes the time to wash their hands after?

Of course, Harry, being Harry, has to.

"Don't bother drying your hands, let's go!" I grab his arm and pull him out of the bathroom with me back into the Halls of Hell. Otherwise known as college halls.

I'm already late for my next class and....why is my arm wet?

I turn around and see Harry of course drying his hands on my shirt and my arms.

"Harry! That's..stop. Now my shirt is all wet and everyone is going to wonder what I've been doing in there." I whine as I try to wring out the wet spots on my shirt. Harry only stands by me, staring at me with that blank expression I've gotten so used to over the last two years.

"Apologize, maybe?" I don't ask him harshly, or rudely at all. It's more of me begging just to hear him. But his big green eyes just stare at me with a gentle shake of his head. No.

"Okay. Let's get to class." I head for the door and I'm aware of Harry's grip on the hem of my shirt.

********

"So? Classes today was...?"

"Liam, they're always the same. Booooring!" I sigh, sitting back further into the couch. I'm currently talking to Liam via Skype. Which doesn't really make that much sense, because we live two houses down from each other.

"Well, poor old you. Scholarship and all just wasn't worth it was it? You do know some people actually have to pay their way through college?" Liam rolls his eyes and says. Yeah, he's also in college but he's going to a cheaper one than I do. Mainly because I got a scholarship and he didn't.

"If you don't like hearing me complain then don't be friends with me." I tell him, though I know we'll always be friends. So I'm not worried.

"Louis? Harry just walked behind and you and...you might want to tell him you're Skype-ing me." Liam says with an amused look on his face.

"Why?" I ask, turning around to see no Harry around.

"He's not wearing anything." Liam laughs.

"I'm not either!" I hear Liam's boyfriend, Niall shouts and he appears on the screen I'm exactly what he said. Nothing.

"Niall!!"

Niall is suddenly pulled away from the screen and both men are suddenly gone and only Niall's laughing can be heard.

"Guys? Hello?" I laugh, waiting for someone to come back into the view of the webcam.

"Louis, I'll call you later. We've both got a little problem we need to fix. Talk to you later." Liam quickly explains and Niall shouts a giggly goodbye before the screen goes black and then says the Skype session has ended.

The sound of glass shattering causes me to jump up and run into the lot when where the crash sound came from.

And when I run into the kitchen, the sight in met with isn't the worst I've ever seen, which relieves me.

Harry sitting on the kitchen floor, wearing boxers now. But all around him on the floor is glass shards and an old photo frame in his hands.

"Harry? Baby, you okay?" I ask as I carefully step over to him and kneel beside him as he stares down at the photo frame.

"Can I see?" I ask, reaching out for the frame which he hands over carefully.

All the glass from the frame is broken out and that's what's laying in the floor. But the photo inside is an old one of me and Harry. Younger and laughing. Cuddled together on a couch with a Christmas tree in the background. What really catches my eyes though is Harry. He seems so happy, so bright, and so alive. So different from the Harry that sits here in front of me. Who looks broken and like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Did it fall off the shelf?" I ask, meaning the photo. And harry shakes his head sadly, and refusing to make eye contact.

"What happened?" I ask, sitting next to Harry, who flinches away and walks out of the room. Amazingly missing all the glass.

I usually mark these types of things up as a mystery. I never get an explanation from Harry. He always shuts me out, and closes down, refusing to work with me in any way.

Not this time, Harry.

I follow after him, into the bedroom where he's gone. I set the photo frame on the bed and continue to follow Harry into the bathroom where he turns the shower on.

"Harry, please just talk to me."

He only stares at me and tries to shoo me out of the bathroom.

"No. I'm not leaving. You want to take a shower, then fine. But I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me how that photo frame broke." Maybe it's a crazy thing to harass him over, but I've reached a point where I have to hear him or I'll go crazy. And this is my excuse to make him talk.

He tries once again to push me out of the bathroom, but I grab his wrists and hold them together above his head as he tries to pull away from me.

"Stop fighting me, please." I say quietly and calmly so he doesn't freak out by not being allowed to move freely.

He whines a little as I gently push him against the wall as steam begins to fill the room from the hot shower.

"Please just tell me what happened. Did the frame fall or-"

"Yes." The reply is so quick, so quiet, and so small that I almost think I only heard it in my head. But as I stare at Harry, my eyes wide and my ears begging to hear that again, I know I did hear him.

He spoke. For the first time in two years.