Angel Boy l.s

7

A few nights later, Louis found himself at the end of his bed crying again. Chanting his prayers over and over to God.

"Please help me to better myself." He whispered as he sobbed.

He immediately stopped speaking though when he heard the hallway floorboards creaking. He couldn't hold in his cries but he stopped his prayers.

After a moment it got silent. Louis sighed and wiped his face. He was so exhausted, but he knew for sure he wouldn't be able to sleep. He thought that maybe if he went for a walk and he got some fresh air then he'd be able to fall asleep.

So he got up and slowly slipped on his Nike sandals, even though it was a bit chilly out. All he was wearing was some small black shorts and a thin jumper, but he didn't worry about that since he'd only be out there for a minute.

He carefully opened his door to avoid any creaking and then quietly made his way downstairs. He slid opened the back door and then closed it behind him.

He jumped in surprise, having not expected to see Harry out on the porch at this time. There he was though, with his messy hair and overly tired eyes.

"Harry?" Louis whispered cautiously.

Harry's head spun towards the smaller boy and he huffed out some smoke. Louis furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you smoking?"

Harry sighed and nodded. "Sorry, I didn't think you'd come out here."

Louis stared at him blankly.

"Here," Harry said as he patted the lounge chair next to him. "Sit."

Louis did as he was told and looked at Harry with a frown. "I didn't think you smoked."

"I-um, sometimes I do. Not always." He stammered.

"Why...?" Louis asked as he stared at the cigarette between Harry's long fingers.

He shrugged. "Makes me feel a bit more calm. Relieves some of my stress."

"Don't you care that those kill you?" Louis asked, sounding judgmental.

Harry scoffed. "Maybe that gives me comfort. Mind your own, yeah?"

Louis couldn't move, he swallowed, and after a moment nodded at what Harry said. He knew he crossed a line and he probably deserved Harry's harsh tone.

Minutes went by, Harry silently smoked the rest of his cigarette as Louis stared off into the distance, both were deep in thought.

"Why did you come out here, Louis?" Harry asked as he flicked away the tiny cigarette butt he had remaining.

Louis looked away. "To get some fresh air. I couldn't sleep."

"You never do." Harry blurted out. He then looked up and saw how Louis became stiff.

Silent tension filled the air. Louis couldn't say anything. He didn't really think about how Harry had probably heard him crying. He hated himself for that right now. He felt so pathetic.

Harry felt numb at the moment. Whatever Louis was feeling he didn't care, it wasn't his fault anyway. He stood up and slipped his lighter into his pocket.

Louis didn't move, Harry shrugged and left him out there, going inside and into his room before he locked the door.

Louis then let himself cry, as soon as Harry wasn't in hearing range. He couldn't take it anymore, especially after Harry twisted the knife that he already had stabbed in him from his parents. He knew no one could possibly love him, but he had no idea what he did to Harry to make him hate him.