seventy-nine

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"Tell me about Roman."

Harry grins. "He's an asshole."

It's 11:30 at night and they're sitting on one of the comfortable couches in the twenty-four hour bookstore Louis took Harry too so many months ago when he couldn't sleep. A surprisingly fair amount of people mill around, searching for books. A few workers are busy reorganizing and straightening out the spines.

"Do you still love him?"

"A little. Not really. I only loved him because he would have sex with me, and he's hot. Like really fucking hot."

Louis doesn't feel jealous of such a despicable human being, he does not. No way in hell. "Is that all?"

"He was sweet at first. I mean, he was always sweet. I'm sure he still is." At the look Louis is giving him, he hedges to explain, "He took care of me. I know it doesn't seem like it, but he did. He took care of me. He gave me what I asked for."

"And what did you ask for?"

"Someone to be rough with me. Someone to love me above anyone else. Someone to get jealous over me. Obviously, those are all the things that made him abusive, so. Don't look at me like that," Harry laughs, "Of course I know he's abusive."

"Then why did you stay with him?"

Now would be a prime opportunity for Harry to make a joke about Louis' insistence at gaining information from him, maybe something likewhat, is this Twenty Questions? Instead, he sighs. "It's hard to explain to someone who has never felt it before. Part of it is that I thought I could change him, but most of it is that I just didn't care. Is that wrong?"

"I don't know."

"He raped me," Harry says. "Multiple times." It's conversational. Apathetic.

Louis doesn't like it. He keeps his mouth shut, and gives Harry the room he needs to speak.

Because they're in a bookstore, he has to be quiet. Besides, they're are people around who could easily overhear if he raises his voice too much, and this isn't a conversation for strangers to listen in on.

"The first time it happened, I was shaking so hard I couldn't even get my key in the lock. Luckily Liam came home and let me in," he laughs. "I was in shock. Liam knew something was wrong but he didn't figure it out. I wasn't any help. I just sat on the couch for an hour or two, wondering what the hell happened, before I decided to take a shower. A very long, very hot shower."

Louis leans into his side. He loves the sound of his voice but he hates the words Harry's saying, hates what they mean.

"Liam had to drag me out," Harry continues, sounding as though he's lost in the story, taken back to the moment when it first occurred. "The water had burned my skin, not badly, just enough to leave it read and sore. I didn't want him to touch me; I didn't let him. I think I scared him when I yelled at him, because he left me alone after that. I still feel bad about that."

"Harry..."

"Do you want to hear the story?"

"Only if you want to tell me," Louis reasoned. "Only if you're okay with telling me."

"I am. It's alright." He scooches down so Louis can wrap his arm around his shoulder. He snuggles into his side. "I've never told anyone before, but you make me want to. You make me feel safe enough to say it out loud."

"That's good," Louis chokes, overcome. "I'm glad."

"So," Harry continues,"as it turns out, I did the worst possible thing I could do after being raped."

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