Seven Minutes » stylinson

twenty // terror

story: seven minutes
part: twenty // terror

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Louis sighs faintly as his fingers continue to move around the bumps and ridges that make up Harry's chest.

From his years of life, Harry's body is nearly a canvas for scars. Some of them small nicks, maybe from the explosion, and some large, like the long surgical line from where they had to remove the bullet and heal his rib. And among the scars, are what are obviously cuts, and those are the ones that Harry tenses under as Louis touches them. The cuts from the man.

It doesn't take much for Louis to soothe him, though. All he generally has to do is whisper about how it's him, it's not the man, it's nobody else, it's him, and Harry will relax, bringing him in close, burying his nose in his hair.

And here they are again, in their room, in their bed, arms clasped. Louis blinks lazily as his finger slides over the incision mark, right under his left pec. "You're still afraid to touch?," Harry says, his voice rough from the nap they are slowly coming out of. Louis shrugs a little, and moves his fingers up to Harry's neck instead, circling the little curls at the nape of it with his fingers. "It doesn't hurt that much, anymore," Harry whispers, basically preening into Louis' touch.

Louis pulls away a little to look at him. "So, you'd be okay with grabbing my arm? You'd feel comfortable grabbing it? It is healed," he says and Harry's face glazes over. "No," Louis says quickly, and Harry blinks. "No, don't blame yourself for it anymore, it's okay," he quickly adds, and Harry sighs, looking down in shame.

"'S not okay... I hurt you. Nearly had to... I'm really sorry, I know I've said it, but I'm really sorry. And I've been meaning to take those lessons - to practice -, but there just hasn't been any opportunities," Harry whispers, and Louis nods in understanding.

Neither of them say anything after that for a while, and Louis' train of thought starts to go backwards, thinking of his past life. That's what it is, really, there's nothing similar from how he lived, and how he's living. It's quiet, soft afternoons like this that Louis starts to really miss... everyone, everything.

He misses Niall so, so, so, so much. What he wouldn't give to hear his laugh, to share a pint with him, listen to some of his famously recounted bouts of Irish folklore. Also, he really misses Zayn. They befriended each other decades ago, saw each other everyday, sick or sad, and it's a bit bitter to the taste to not see him at all, cold turkey. And he really, really misses his family. His mum's hugs, her skin always felt sort of cold, really soft. He misses the early mornings, to go to school, driving his little sisters. He even misses his mum's nearly emotionless brother, Dan, who helped raise him and his siblings.

Louis doesn't realize he's sniffling, tears on the verge of spilling until Harry gives his shoulder a soft shake, using on of his fingers to make him look at him. "I'm fine," he gives a wet chuckle, cradling himself further into Harry's torso. With their legs twined, Louis' toes reach his ankles. "Just being nostalgic," he adds, and Harry closes his eyes with a sigh.

"It's not called nostalgia to miss your family," he whispers, and Louis shrugs his shoulders, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. "And I hope you're not offended... or mad... but I've been having a few of my people keeping tabs on them... just to make sure they're o -"

Louis sits up quickly, and his body looks pale, milky in the slight amount of sunshine that is coming through the blinds. "Are they okay? How are they? What's going on with them?," he hammers Harry, who raises up on his elbows.

"Well...," Harry says, thinking back to all the things the people reported to him. "Niall and... I think his name is Josh? Yes, they're expecting. A little boy. Zayn met his soulie about three weeks ago, they're settling down nicely. It's a girl named Dove, it's easy to tell how smitten they are. And your mum... she adopted two more babies, twins. A little boy and a little girl," he says it all slowly, expecting Louis to interrupt, but he only nods for Harry to continue. "You okay?," he whispers, pulling Louis towards him by his wrist.