Chapter Twenty Eight

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sweetest and mortification coming up!

Immediately, there's an apology spilling from the boy's mouth. Louis stands without shock. He'd smirk if he could, but he's a little aggravated at this moment in time. 

Harry was hoping that the bullying would calm down. It's the start of April, and Louis has been mistreated since the second day of school in February. He releases the boy and shoves at his chest once more before tapping Louis' hand beside him and walking to Louis' maths class. He sighs whilst walking. He's bothered by how much he had to deal with this every single day; the rude calls of names, then the attack, the apology and then the walk away like nothing happened. He doesn't mind protecting Louis, it's just that people shouldn't be picking on him. They should get it into their fucking heads Harry's ready to pounce. They should be scared of Louis and Harry, but they aren't - surprisingly.

Harry leaves Louis to his class while he heads to his chemistry. He attends, settles down and hardly listens to the teacher, departing solemnly when class is over. He picks Louis up from the maths class and heads with him to the carpark. No names, no attacks - for once. Louis takes Harry home in the ute, their hands resting on one another on top of the clutch on the drive home. They're silent most of the way, unusually. Maybe it's just because it's the end of the week and everyone, even the car's sounding tired.

He drives and drops Harry off, kissing his cheek and telling him he'll sneak in later. Harry glowers and warns for being caught sneaking out but Louis rolls his eyes and snickers. He heads back home and doesn't bother to say hello to his mum and Phil, running upstairs and locking himself in until his parents headed off into bed.

Rocks are thrown. Harry's not sure why Louis just doesn't knock. Louis crawls through when Harry opens the window and he kisses Louis' forehead. Louis pushes away from it, sort of, and runs to the bed. He sits cross legged and he bounces up and down on the bed. Oh, he's excited. Harry grins at the sight.

He takes it as a sign to sit on the bed with him, so he follows with legs crossed and a smile on his face. Louis sits up on his knees and trots to Harry, grabbing something from his back pocket before sitting down on his calves. He has a sharpie, and Harry becomes confused.

"Lou?"

"Arm out," Louis demands. Harry does as asked. Louis puts the sharpie in his mouth and moves the bracelets. He's been checking every day for the past two weeks since he found out about the self harming cuts. There's new lines. Louis doesn't get upset. There's always been new lines, every single day, but there is less new lines every time. Harry's trying.

He did say promise but even Louis knew Harry wouldn't be able to keep this one. Louis hasn't kept his promise either.

Louis drops the sharpie from his mouth into his lap and reaches forward to kiss Harry's wrist. Harry sighs unhappily. 

"It's only three lines this time, Lou--"

"I know," Louis whispers. He grins softly to Harry. "I'm proud you're trying."

Harry nods and smiles to himself. He's proud too. "What's that for?"

He points to the sharpie. Louis takes it in his hand and undoes the lid by sticking it between his teeth and pulling. He takes Harry's arm out again and holds the sharpie at his wrist. Harry glares at the felt pen near his cuts.

"L-Lou, isn't that going to hurt?"

Louis avoids the cuts and starts drawing on Harry's wrist. Harry has no clue what he's doing, curves and weird lines Louis is drawing. It looks like a flower with a few spots. Louis draws two lines with spirals at the end. He's an artist, but this doesn't look to be magnificent. Maybe Louis was just bored and wanted to draw over these ugly cuts of his.

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