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The thing is, Harry knows Louis a little too well. More than Louis would like, sometimes, he guesses. Just enough to where Harry is the first to pick up on the shift in mood when Louis comes out of wardrobe and walks onto the set, where his living room has been replicated and his grandmother and grandfather are off to the side, pointing out how good all the details are.
Harry’s there for support, because despite all of Louis’s protests, Harry knows Louis a little bit better than to believe him. Knows that Louis’s been on edge all day, shifting around and snapping too much for normal. So, while the other lads went to take a break, Harry opted for sticking on set and watching Louis do his scene.
He’s watching Louis now, watching the way his eyes widen and his body kind of stops as he stares at the set, taking it all in slowly and with a tiny ‘o’ shaped mouth. His hands are in fists at his sides, and Harry jogs over immediately and puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Aye, Lou, you alright?” he asks quietly, calling for Louis’s attention politely.
Louis turns his head, and there’s a shine in his eyes that knots Harry’s stomach. Louis nods, before shaking out his hair and letting out a breath, a shaky smile on his face, “Yeah, yeah, fine. The set builders did a better job than I expected.” He gestures to the set, starring at it for a minute and Harry gives a small glance, but he’d rather inspect Louis’s face. “God, there’s even carrots. I’m never going to get away from that god-awful joke.” He bites out a laugh, just genuine enough for Harry to give him a comforting smile and chuckle as well.
“Afraid not, mate,” he smiles and Louis smiles back and it’s a little more real, a little bit like thank you. Harry pulls him in for a hug, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and whispering to him, “You’re gonna be alright, Lou.”
Louis gives him a tight squeeze, clutching at his shirt and exhaling on a shaking breath, before pulling away and going to talk to his grandparents.
The director starts off, tells Louis all he has to do first is sit in front of the table like-so while they situate the grandparents, which is a bit harder. Harry stays off to the side, drinking a bottle of water and watching Louis with careful eyes. Whenever the boy glances his way, Harry makes sure to make a stupid face, and it makes Louis’s lips quirk.
At some point, the director says, “Alright, you three are good to go, just–” but before he can finish Louis is standing up and apologizing and walking out of the room and towards the bathroom, Harry quick on his heels.
They’re in a hallway with vending machines and Louis is letting out really long breathes, doubled over with his hands on his knees, and Harry just rubs his back. The whole thing lasts five minutes and neither of them say anything, until Louis scrubs at his face with his hands and tells Harry he’s sorry.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Harry mumbles as they walk towards the door to leave, Harry scratching between Louis’s shoulder blades to remind him he’ll be okay.
They get back in and Louis apologizes, makes a joke about being a diva, and sits himself back down and waits for instructions. Harry goes back to where he was, watching Louis with the same careful eyes and drinking sips from his water bottle.
Next thing Louis has to do is sit on the couch, look all sad and nostalgic and Harry doesn’t think the acting directions are really necessary. Louis stands up, waits for the director to say action, but the minute he does Louis is apologizing and running out again and Harry is quick to follow.
This time he doesn’t stop at the hallway, goes all the way to a bathroom and Harry catches the door, walking in to see Louis starring in the mirror with wide eyes and his hands clutching the sink. He’s breathing harshly and looking at himself with a firm gaze. Harry walks over quickly, rubs his back again and this time whispers soothing words and Louis’s eyes drift shut and he’s breathing a little more evenly in about eight minutes.
“You wanna take a break?” Harry asks quietly.
Louis shakes his head. “Just gotta get it over with,” he mumbles, before opening his eyes and looking at Harry. He looks very tired, and Harry forgets Louis is two years older than him. “Thank you,” he whispers, and Harry shakes his head, pulls him in for a hug.
They leave again, and again Louis apologizes but no one makes a comment and Harry is really glad, because he doesn’t want to get angry at the people shooting their music video.
They start again, and Louis does better and Harry can’t see him shaking but he can feel it. He lip syncs all of his parts and gets up to walk around the set. When he’s standing in front of the Christmas tree, his grandmother sneezes.
“Oh, heaven’s sorry,” she says, wiping at her nose and Louis grabs a tissue from a box on the display, so naturally Harry knows for a second he forgotten. Louis freezes when he hands his grandmother the tissue, tries to smile, before mumbling and leaving again. Harry follows.
Louis stays in the hallway this time, but starts pacing and Harry watches him and offers Louis his water bottle and Louis drinks the whole thing in two gulps.
“Wish it was vodka,” he mumbles, throwing the bottle away.
“Sorry mate, fresh out,” Harry says lightly and Louis smiles a bit.
“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Louis mumbles, then stops pacing and shakes his. He shakes it again, and Harry counts him inhale and exhale three times each. “I’m fine,” Louis says loudly, sharply, definitely. Harry nods, not believing him but supporting him. Louis nods too, before walking back out. He apologizes, going up to his grandmother and kissing her cheek because she has a worried look on her face. Harry hears Louis tell her he’s fine.
They go again, and it goes fine, smoothly. Louis acts as the only moving thing and walks around the room, looking up and down and touching things like they’re made of clouds and will dissolve if he lingers too long. He does a great job, and Harry’s heart aches in his chest. He tears up a bit when Louis sits back down, leaning against the couch while his grandparents stay frozen, and Louis gives a smile, small and sad, and pats his grandfather’s knee and Harry thinks he might have to leave and go cry this time.
The director calls cut, says good job everyone, and tells them the next scene is just the three of them interacting. Louis is nodding, staring down at his shoes and his grandfather reaches over and pats his back, rubbing it and Harry can see the glisten in his eye. There’s a hushed conversation among the two, and Harry can just see Louis’s bottom lip tremble and he straightens up when Louis abruptly stands up.
He doesn’t leave this time, just walks over to Harry and stands in front of him, hands in his pockets and water on his eyes and nose getting red.
“Tell me a joke, Haz,” Louis mumbles quietly and Harry’s mind goes blank for a second.
“Uh,” he stops. “Um, okay, knock knock.”
“Who’s there?” Louis asks, grin already fighting at his lips.
“Lettuce.”
“Oh god Haz,” Louis chuckles, the sound wet and shaking his head and Harry can see a few tears in his eyes. “Lettuce who?”
“Let-tus-in!” Harry grins widely, can feel his dimples in his cheeks and Louis barks out a laugh that’s long and hard and his body shakes and a few more tears slip down his cheeks. Harry reaches out, wipes them off with his sleeve and Louis squints his eyes very tightly shut.
“Thanks, Harry,” he mumbles, reaching out a wrapping around Harry’s waist for a brief second before pulling back and smiling. “Almost done,” he sighs, like a mantra he’s been telling himself and Harry nods.
“You’ll be alright,” Harry tells him and Louis nods as well, before jogging back over to set.
They film the scene of them all interacting, and Louis’s grandmother tells a story about something that happened before the photo was taken, and Louis is laughing and saying he can’t remember it, but Harry can tell Louis is just wanting to hear the story. It’s light and loving and Louis’s grandmother places a kiss on his forehead and Louis makes faces at the camera, but his eyes are shining and Harry’s heart aches so bad it hurts.
“Alright, that’s it!” The director says when it’s over and Harry watches as Louis visibly exhales. He watches as his grandmother reaches over though, pets his hair and whisper something to him and Louis nods and smiles, and tells her something. She laughs, and Louis stands up and starts to leave.
Harry’s following after him, a few steps behind and watches as Louis walks past the hallway and past the bathroom and is clearly making his way to his dressing room. He starts to close the door, but Harry catches it and walks in behind him, closing the door and locking it when he’s sure Lou isn’t there or any other stylist.
Harry looks over and Louis is curled up on the futon, face buried in his knees and arms wrapped around him. He’s shaking, and Harry is over there in a second, untangling Louis from himself and reaching out to hold Louis.
“You’re alright,” Harry whispers, wrapping his long arms around Louis and Louis finds a place to hold on to Harry around his neck and buries his face in the crook from his shoulder. His entire body turns, and he’s pretty much sitting on Harry’s lap before Harry says again, “Sssh, Lou, you’re alright.”
“I’m fine,” Louis says shakily, his throat sore and heavy sounding and the next second he’s retching out a sob, holding Harry tight and crying on him. “I’m fine,” he says again, holding Harry tighter and burying his face in the boy’s sweater. He says it over and over, sobbing and crying so the sound is muffled, but Harry feels the words on his skin and he spends his time rubbing Louis’s back and making soothing hums.
It’s fifteen minutes like this, with Louis sobbing that he’s fine and Harry holding him tight. It’s quiet and intimate and Harry is glad he locked the door, because he knows Louis doesn’t want Lou or anyone to see him like this. Harry rubs his back, tells him he did great, tells him he’s fine, tells him it’s over now. Louis’s mouth opens for another sob and his teeth close around Harry’s shirt and he apologizes and Harry tells him he’s fine.
“I’m fine,” Louis repeats, his sob lowering down and sniffling loudly. “I’m fine,” he says again. He nuzzles his face into Harry more, clutching his sweater and nodding his head. Harry nods as well, rubbing with more pressure. It’s only another two minutes, before Louis stops shaking, and his crying has mostly turned into his sniffing, and he’s wiping his face on Harry’s sweater. He’s glad he wore a comfy sweater, not some scratchy jacket like he planned too.
Louis pulls away, hands still clutching on to Harry and eyes staring at the wet spot on Harry’s clothes. “Sorry,” he mumbles, coughing and clearing his throat.
Harry shakes his head. “‘S’alright Lou,” he tells him and rubs his back again. “Don’t mind.”
Louis just nods, before thinning his lips into a line and looking in Harry’s eyes. The bits of star blue are still soaked, and Harry thinks Louis might cry again, but probably not.
“I miss them, Harry,” is all Louis mumbles, before falling back and cuddling into Harry’s side.
Harry pats him gently, reaching a hand up and scratching the back of Louis’s skull, how he likes. “I know,” Harry whispers. “I know.”
And they stay like that for a good while, until Louis’s face is no longer red and he just looks more tired than sad. Harry asks if he’s alright, because Harry has his scene to do next, and Louis nods, because yeah, he’ll be fine. Harry smiles at him, and kisses his cheek before standing up.
“Thank you, Harry,” Louis mumbles when he goes in for a tight hug, wrapping around shoulders and pulling him tight.
Harry wraps around his waist, laying his chin on Louis’s shoulder. He smiles, letting out a breath and squeezing Louis tighter. “Never a problem, Lou.”