Untouchable

Chapter 16

A/N
I don't know if there is any way to apologize for the wait.
Sorry?
I also uploaded a little poem thing called I AM. It's basically about me and the positives then negatives about me. I like it. If you want to read it and find out more about how my mind works, knock yourselves out.
You don't have to.
Love you!
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Louis' POV

It wasn't like Harry and I went back to being best friends. Not even friends, really. We tip-toed around each other whenever we were in the same room.
The boys made sure to get together nearly every day. They didn't want me to be alone, I knew that, and it was probably healthy for me, but I still went back to my own house every night and embraced being alone. I was used to it. I knew I was even more quiet than I had ever been, but I had simply gotten used to silence.
We were called into a meeting with our management and it was surprisingly pleasant. It wasn't like I hated them, but they could be overbearing at the best of times. It was almost uneasy, the way that they assured me that they had my health as their first priority. What was even weirder was that I believed them.
I gave them the name and number of my new therapist and they looked pointedly at Harry the entire time. They wanted him to see one too; they'd been pushing it since he had gotten back. He always wrinkled his nose and said that Felix and the occasional checkups at the clinic were enough for him but talking about mine made him tilt his head and seem to consider it for a moment.
The second half of the meeting was mostly about what we would do regarding the video. We couldn't say that it wasn't us; the camera was good quality and aside from our faces, we were wearing the same clothes that we had worn for the interview beforehand. Coupled with the pictures of us coming out of the building, we couldn't deny it. The fans would never believe it.
We couldn't really admit what it was without saying the reason why Harry and I were fighting.
They even showed the video, debating if the audio could be mistaken for other things and we could lie about the reason why.
I glanced at Harry. His knuckles were white around his water bottle and there was blood between his teeth with how hard he was biting his lip. I watched his shoulders jerk as his on-screen self shouted, "fucking whore," and he put his head down in his arms after that.
He'd apologized hundreds of times, sitting on the edge of my bed the night I had come back as I fell asleep. He'd whispered it into my hair when I demanded he cuddle with me. He'd been tense, but at the moment, I had been sleepy and warm and too tired to care.
Niall rested his hand on Harry's back, a subtle comforting gesture.
On the other side of Harry, Zayn did as well. Liam patted my thigh but withdrew afterwards.
It was eventually decided that we would ignore it as long as possible. We would only make a statement if we absolutely had to. Harry finally lifted his head at that, eyes suspiciously red-rimmed.
The rest of the meeting was spent discussing plans for getting tour rehearsals back up and running and how much I felt like I could take.
We hadn't rehearsed since Harry had tried to kill himself. We were beyond behind. Our tour had been delayed indefinetely since then, but management said that they would watch the rehearsals for a little while and see how Harry and I were doing mentally before deciding when we would start again.
I thought that it was stupid to be rehearsing for a tour that hadn't even released dates yet.
It would be nice to have normalcy, though.
At least, that was what I was telling myself the next week. Nobody had been outside the first few days, but now that they knew we were rehearsing again, the fans clustered outside.
There weren't even that many, maybe twenty or thirty. Less than I was used to, honestly. It was so weird, the way they sort of backed off around me, like they were afraid to talk to me or ask me for a picture. Everyone had arrived at more or less the same time, so they were signing autographs and saying hi to all the fans. I stood in the middle of the mass, unsure of what to do.
My throat started to close up. I'd come back from three weeks of isolation but I felt even more alone, standing there with all of the fans. I felt like I was looking at what One Direction would have been if I hadn't gotten through my first audition.
Everyone was pointing at me and whispering. He failed, they seemed to say, he never belonged, poor weak boy, failure, weak
I wrapped my arms tightly around my stomach and tried to shrink as far into myself as possible.
Then I felt a hand tug at my arm and I turned around to see a girl, grinning madly.
After that, it seemed like the weirdness between the fans and I disappeared.
As uncomfortable as I had felt being ignored, my head started to swim with normal.
Five pictures and I thought I was going to be sick on the pavement. I gave a tense little wave to everybody and shoved my way through the rest of the fans.
I pushed through the door to the studio and barely made it a few feet inside before I had to sit down.
My head hurt, a phantom ache of countless hangovers. I could still hear the fans outside but they were all but silenced by the voices in my head. One was familiar, telling me how disgusting I was and that the fans had always hated me. One had started in the past week. It was more quiet, afraid. It cowered in the back of my mind, always there. It usually stayed silent. As I huddled against the wall, it started to scream. I shoved my hands against my ears. It was terrified. It was me. I felt sick to my stomach. My head couldn't figure itself out and it spun so hard that I worried it would fly off. I was so, so afraid and I jolted when I felt a hand on my arm.
I opened my eyes. I didn't remember shutting them. My throat felt raw. Had I been the one screaming, then?
Harry was crouched in front of me, eyes wide and worried. I stared at him. Carefully, he wrapped his hands around mine and slowly pulled them away from my ears. I let him.
"Can you...?" I croaked, nodding at the space next to me.
He nodded and crawled next to me, letting me curl around him.
"I'm scared," I whispered without preamble.
"It is scary," he agreed.
"No, you don't...," I mumbled.
"Understand?" he supplied, "Louis, I've been in the exact same place as you are. You think it's hard coming back after three weeks? Try six months."
I looked away and toyed with the growing hole in the knee of my jeans.
"I was physically here, but you know, not mentally. It's been longer than three weeks," I mumbled, "That sounded shit. You know."
"Yeah. I do," he said, "C'mere."
I was being drawn into his side, all but in his lap. I let him pet at my hair. Whatever made him feel better, I thought.
"It's just scary. Everything is going back to normal but I'm not normal yet. And it's like, normal ruined us. You first, then me. What if going back to normal means that's gonna happen again?" I asked.
I looked up at him and he was so, SO close, like he could kiss me if he wanted. He swallowed hard and for a moment, it seemed like he really might.
I shifted away, feeling guilty. I wasn't making it easy on him. He'd never heal, not with me around. I was being so selfish, throwing myself at him and knowing how he felt.
"'m sorry," I muttered.
His mouth twitched into something resembling a smile but it faded quickly. He looked sad.
"Louis, you know that you mean more to me than anything. I just want you to be happy again," he said quietly, "Come back here."
We weren't even that far apart, our thighs still touched, but he tugged me as close as we could physically be.
Neither of us could completely relax. It was partially that we were sitting on the floor of a hallway but it was mostly because of how unfamiliar we were with each other.
We'd always been attached at the hip before. It felt wrong to shy away from him.
I wanted to sit on his lap like I had when we were younger. I got the feeling that it wasn't the most appropriate time to do so.
"We should get up soon. Everyone else is bound to come in," he said quietly.
I nodded.
We didn't move.
"Do you maybe...do you want to come over sometime? We should talk," I suggested.
"Yeah, of course," he said, "Are you okay now?"
I nodded again and detached myself from him, quietly getting to my feet. I heard his knees crack as he did the same.
Almost as if on cue, the other boys came stumbling in. They glanced between Harry and I and I felt almost guilty for having been alone with him.
"S'just kinda weird to come back to. The fans, I mean," I said, probably a bit too defensively, "So I came inside."
"Okay," Niall said, shrugging, "Whatever's best for you, Lou."
I glanced at Harry but he was looking away.
***
Despite the initial weirdness, I slipped back into my life with ease.
I was still afraid, still paranoid. I told myself to never let my guard down, no matter who I was with.
Dates were scheduled for the tour and interviews were set up as well as tickets being sold.
Harry and I were shaky, but stable.
Sometimes we'd go an entire day without saying a word to each other but others I would just have to catch his eye before we started laughing and making faces at each other.
It was horribly confusing and my mind and stomach were in knots around him.
I found myself at my house on a day off, on my phone. My finger hovered over a contact that I hadn't let myself call in months.
When Harry picked up, he was breathless.
"Louis!" he gasped, followed by a squawk and a, "Stop it, you tit!"
"I'll um...I can call back if you're busy," I said quickly.
"No, no, it's fine!" he replied almost immediately, "S'just Felix being an arse. But he's left the room now, so."
I swallowed hard.
There's was a long pause. I'd had everything that I'd wanted to say thought out and it was so simple, really, but my throat was dry and I didn't remember how to speak.
"Did you want something?" he asked.
I nodded and then felt ridiculous for doing so.
"Um, yeah. Do you maybe wanna come over and talk? Or watch a movie or just like hang out or something?" I asked, feeling entirely too nervous for something that I'd done hundreds of times before.
"But if you're like, busy, you don't have to," I continued.
"I'd love to," Harry said, voice soft, "I'll come right over."
I smiled.
"Okay. I'll see you soon then," I said, "Bye, H."
"Bye, Lou," he replied before hanging up.
I grinned widely.
It was a good normal. I wondered when the last time he and I had just hung out was. Probably even before the Taylor thing, I figured. Longer, maybe.
But then twenty minutes passed and my heart started to speed up. The last time Harry and I had been alone together had been when we had lived together. Specifically, when he had told me that he was moving out. So, not good memories. I paced restlessly.
Suppose he didn't come? What if he decided I wasn't worth his time?
I anxiously started some tea, the kind he liked, and set out a bunch of different snacks. It felt off to me. Harry usually made his own tea and went through my cupboards without asking when he came over. Setting out food for him felt forced but I thought I should do it to be polite.
I was about to cry and give up on him coming when I heard a knock, his knock, on my door.
I nearly fell over in my kitchen. I scrambled out and went to the door. I stood in front of it for a moment, collecting myself.
Just Harry, I told myself, he was your best friend.
The word 'was' was the tricky part of it. That's why I was so anxious.
I breathed out heavily and opened the door.
Almost immediately, he was throwing himself at me, wrapping me up in a tight hug.
"Hi!" he said.
He sounded entirely too happy, too normal. He hugged me like he was greeting any of his other friends. Like I wasn't anything special to him.
The thought settled unpleasantly in the bottom of my stomach.
I hugged him back though, not one to pass up the opportunity.
It probably was a little bit too long of a hug to be considered normal and we both hesitated to pull away. He was warm and I was always cold. It felt nice.
He cleared his throat when we seperated and I almost smirked at how pink his cheeks were, a light flush spreading down his neck. I didn't say anything. I didn't know if I was allowed.
"I brought this," he said quickly, clearing his throat again.
He handed me a plastic container and when I opened it, I was hit by the sweet smell of cinnamon. Biscuits.
He shrugged when I grinned at him, any hopes of his blush fading out the window.
"Styles, you're the best," I said, reaching for one and taking a bite.
I moaned exaggeratingly and he almost went red, biting at the inside of his cheek. I felt guilty.
"You gonna let me in or are we just going to stand in your doorway for forever?" he finally asked.
I snorted and stood aside to let him toe off his hideous boots.
It was almost easy from there, frighteningly so. We talked around the heavy weight between us, bantering back and forth and making fun of shit shows. It was a strange kind of vertigo, normal but everything but normal.
He made me laugh so hard that I almost cried and then I almost really cried because he was making me laugh.
Harry knew me better than I knew myself and he caught on to my change of emotions.
"Louis?" he asked.
He didn't prompt me any more than that.
I tried to shuffle away from him on the sofa. We were alreay a decent space apart but I felt too hot all of a sudden. The corners of his mouth twitched down as he noticed.
"We need to talk. We know that. That's the whole purpose of you being here, innit? Not this...bantering around. Serious talk," I mumbled.
"Yeah," he agreed, twisting his fingers together.
My throat closed up with the weight of everything I had to tell him. He stared at me, always so intense.
"So. I'm in love with you. You know that. I...I never told you because I didn't want you to make thing a weird. I love you a whole lot Louis and not just because I'm in love with you. I love you the way I love Niall or Zayn or Nick but I'm in love with you too. Can't we just...forget that?" he blurted, twisting a ring around his finger.
"No," I sighed.
Harry made a little dejected noise. He didn't sound surprised though.
"I'm never going to forget that, Harry. Fuck, you wanted to die because of it! How to you think I'm supposed to just forget like it's no big deal? It's a pretty big fucking deal!" I snapped.
"I know. I know. You'll never look at me, never touch me without thinking 'he's in love with me' first. It's not...Christ. I'm really fucking in love with you and it's not gonna go away soon. I reckon I'll always be in love with you, even just a bit. But it's not some kind of fucking disease, Louis! I've been in love with you for so long and I just want to go back to how it was before you knew, okay? You can treat me the same you used to! I want us to be the same!" Harry barked.
"You want me to shove my girlfriend in your face? You want me to call us bullshit or fucking...fucking USE you? Call you an attention whore? Yell at you for doing nothing wrong? Avoid you in public so there won't be any gay rumors? I'm not fucking doing that, okay? Not...not fucking doing it!" I snarled furiously, angry tears springing to my eyes.
I wiped at them angrily but the look on Harry's face made me stop.
"Louis," he groaned, wrapping his fingers in his own hair and pulling at it, "Jesus, you know that's not what I meant! You're being difficult. I want to be friends with you. I want to love you and try to push past the fact that I'm in love with you too. I love you too much to just let you go. I want to be friends like we used to. Like we were ten minutes ago. So maybe if we cuddle it might get me hard but you are very attractive and it wouldn't be the first time."
Harry's mouth twitched into a little smile. I tried to return it.
He reached out and grabbed my hand, rubbing his thumb across the back.
"Hey," he said softly, "I'm here. I'm okay. I want you to be okay too and I want to be friends again. I love you too much to lose you, okay? I'm sorry for leaving and I'm sorry for what I did to you. But I'm here now and I'm not leaving again."
I nodded, letting him nearly suffocate me in a hug.
"I did stupid things while you were gone. Drank. Slept about an hour of two a night. Tried to get a guy to fuck me," I said, "You make me do stupid things when you're not here. If you dare leave me again..."
"As long as you promise not to leave me," Harry interrupted.
"I promise," I said, "I love you a whole lot too."
He smiled, almost like relief.
"I'm so sorry for everything I said and did when I came back," he murmured, "I hate myself for it and I don't know if I can forgive myself."
I snorted.
"H, I'm the bigger arse between us. So I drank a lot. You tried to fucking kill yourself," I muttered, "The guilt's a huge part of it. I can't swallow around it, knowing I've done this to you."
"Louis, you didn't know. You couldn't have done anything," Harry said quickly.
"Harry, I'd do anything for you, okay? Just let me hate myself for what I've already done," I snapped.
I traced a finger over the bumps of his scars, too many to count.
"I always wondered what had to be going through your head to do that. And to want to kill yourself. But standing on some bridge in some city when I was gone, I understood. I get it now. Maybe that's why I was able to heal a little. I understand," I said.
Harry grimaced, a full-body shudder.
"I don't like to think about you thinking things like that," he growled.
"Well, I don't like you thinking things like that," I retorted.
"Point taken," he replied easily, "So to summarize this discussion, I love you and you love me. We want to be friends. We were both dicks to each other but that's in the past."
I nodded.
There was more to talk about, more to share with each other, but we were done with the seriousness.
Halfway through some black and white romance movie, I found myself laying in his lap, his fingers twisting through my hair. He didn't look away from the screen when I squirmed and grumbled about it.
I heard him cackle quietly and when I tried to dislodge his fingers, he held on. I shrieked indignantly and tried to get him to let go.
"Can't help it. Think I'm stuck," he teased.
"Christ, you know I'll do anything for you, but I dunno if cutting my hair off to detach your hand falls under that. That might be a little too much for me," I joked.
He threw his head back and laughed.
He unceremoniously dumped me on the floor and I squawked.
"You bastard!" I laughed.
Laughing was good, I decided. I could laugh a lot with him.
I debated trying to pull him on the floor with me but I figured it would be too much too soon. I grumbled and sat back on the couch, poking him with my cold toes.
He stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes.
"Attractive," I snorted.
"Please. You're way more attractive," he replied.
I swallowed hard and fought to keep the effortless smile on my face. He caught it but he didn't say anything. He just grabbed for my hand again and placed a sloppy kiss on my knuckles.
It was a lot for just deciding to try and be friends again but I couldn't help but like it.
It was okay because we were friends.