Together (Larry Stylinson) ✅

Us

Harry' POV

"You know we can't just avoid things forever," I said to Louis, who was currently nuzzled on my bare chest. He looked up at me with his big blue eyes. He looked so beautiful, so serene. I didn't want to upset him. 

But of course I had to. 

"Come on, Lou. Let's talk, baby," I cooed, pulling him up higher so he was situated next to me. My legs were still tingling a little from the sex and I bit my lip to repress how much I was craving round two. 

"I want to talk, Haz. I know we need to," Louis said, pulling the covers over our torsos. "I just don't know where to begin. There's so much to talk about."

"Well, why are you here?" I asked. It was a blunt question, but one that needed to be asked. I was going to be firm with Louis.  As far gone as I was for him, I still wanted to know the truth. I didn't want my heart broken a second time. 

"I don't know," he said, shifting on my chest a little. I knew he was uncomfortable so I rolled him off my chest and positioned myself next to him so we were parallel. 

"You can tell me," I said with a smile, rubbing his shoulder. But suddenly, Louis looked so guilty, so broken. Like he had been cut by an invisible sword and was suddenly bleeding out, clear droplets of shame and fear soaking the bed sheets. 

"I... Well. I don't have an exact answer for you. But I got better. Mostly better, at least. I'm done with rehab and I honestly don't have a steady job and I don't know where I'm going but I know I want to be with you," he said, swallowing harshly. "If you want to that is. Based on what I saw with Niall, it seems like you've begun to move on...."

I nodded. Louis was telling me everything I wanted to hear. But somehow, it didn't make me happy in the way that I thought it would. Instead, I felt worse. More wounded, less whole. I had spent so much time building up my walls against Louis and his toxicity. Now, in one single visit, he had broken them all down, and it was just me and him, face to face. 

And all I wanted, more than anything was to just say "yes, I want that. let's be together." As I stroked his soft chestnut hair, I almost did say it, but I stopped myself. 

I deserved more than this. I deserved an apology. 

"Are you even sorry, though? For what you did?" I asked, locking eyes with him. He couldn't just come back here and reclaim our relationship.... the one he had destroyed just a few months earlier...

"I am sorry. I truly am sorry. I should have led with that, Haz," he said, defensively, moving a few inches away from me. He tugged the covers closer to his chest. It seemed the more nervous he got, the worse his body insecurities became. 

"You - you asked me what I was doing here in New York... I thought you meant where I want to live. Fuck. It came out wrong. But I came here to apologize, truly," Louis squeaked, the words flooding out like storm water. "I am so ashamed and embarrassed of what happened when you came to London. And honestly, it was almost entirely my disorder that caused it, but I take full responsibility. It's no excuse. You didn't deserve that  -- any of it. All of my bitterness and  coldness when you saved my god damn life. The silent car rides. Biting you. Fuck... Haz..."

He was crying now. Tears were becoming typical in our relationship, like sugar dust in candy shop. I wiped my nose, trying to hide back my own tears. I wanted to maintain my dignity. If only for a little...

"I am so sorry... I feel sick just thinking about what I did. And it was all recent. And I can't promise you that I've changed, but if you let me, I'll show you that I have. I want to show you-- I just. I swear, Harry. I love you so much and I would never want to hurt you. I hope you can accept my apology because, fuck, I've worked so hard to get here. It's been so hard...." he trailed off for second, looking off distantly as he recollected his thoughts. Perhaps he was imagining the horrible experiences of the rehab facility... the lack of control... the white washed rooms...

"My eating disorder and my depression over mum are no excuse for anything that I've done. To you or to my sisters... or to Zayn even.... I apologize to all of you, for all of it. And I know they say it's not my fault I got sick. It's not. But I am responsible for my actions, no matter how low I was, I always had a choice. And I always chose Ana, time and time again. I always chose starvation, I always chose emptiness. But today I'm not. Today I'm choosing you, Haz, if you will allow me too..." 

I was shaking now I was crying so hard. Louis was crying too, sniffling between words and sometimes slurring his speech. His apology had hit home in more ways than one, and now I was lying here thinking about the things I've done too. The times I've chosen Ana over Lou, over everything. 

And that's when I realized that neither of us are perfect. That we both have our flaws, our issues, our triggers. We are both broken people. But we will not always be broken. And maybe, just maybe we could help each other.... if we allowed each other to....

"Lou, fuck," I said, wiping my tears. "Thank you for apologizing, love. I'm sorry too. For things I did back then or even did now. It's not your fault you were sick. But I'm so glad you're choosing recovery now, that you're really doing it. I know how hard it is..."

I paused for a second, wondering if I actually wanted to get vulnerable with Louis right now. He looked at me, blue eyes fluttering, and inched in closer, wrapping his arms around my waist gently. Safe in his arms, I felt like maybe I did want to. 

"Honestly, Lou. I've been struggling... like a lot, since London. And I had to go back to seeing a nutritionist. And my therapist too. I nearly relapsed so many times. I don't know if I ever told you this, but the voice never really did go away. I just learned to overpower it. To control it," I explained, tears welling in the back of my eyes. "I can differentiate now. Between my voice and Ana's voice. Most days at least. But, honestly, seeing you sick... made me want to go back. I was so triggered... I know it's fucked up, but...." 

I started to cry again and Lou rubbed slow circles on my back with his thumb. "It makes perfect sense, babe. I didn't even realize I was triggering you, but I see it now. Even when we ate together, " he said slowly. "I'm so sorry." 

I shook my head, my soft curls hitting my neck silently. "It's okay. Not your fault. I just wanted to be more honest with you," I continued. I nestled my head into the crook of Lou's neck, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could rely on him for help. That I could trust him, depend on him. And not the other way around.

"I want to be with you too, Haz. But I also want to make sure what we have is healthy this time around. We both have our issues, and if it turns toxic we can trigger each other. I want you to be happy, okay?" he whispered into my ear softly. "Just tell me what you want. When you're ready."

I nodded. As if I needed time to think about it. I already knew, and Lou knew too. I wasn't going to lose him again. I couldn't.... not this time. 

"Would you rather live in New York or California?" I asked him, nearly blushing over how silly the question sounded. 

Lou looked at me, puzzled, and I instantly began to regret it as a look of concern washed over his face. This whole location issue had been the whole reason we broke up in the first place. 

"You know," he finally said, a small smile sweeping his lips. "I've lived in New York for years. Perhaps I'll try Cali." 

I squeezed Lou into a big hug, tickling his neck and arms and tummy as he squirmed next to me. We were both giggling, but I could tell by his body language that he was a bit tense, not entirely comfortable enough with that kind of touch just yet. 

Pulling him back into my arms, I sighed and smiled. We weren't perfect. We still had a lot more to work on, a lot more to decide. But at least we knew how it was going to be -- the two of us, together.