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Louis Tomlinson hadn't always been depressed.
He used to be "happy" or whatever, when he was like, nine. But then his dad walked out and all of the sudden he got this need, to just, please everyone. If he did something wrong he would spend days fretting over it. Sometimes he would act happy, but in the end, he was too stressed. Louis slept a lot too, and he never really wanted to see any of his friends.
Then, there were the knives. Louis' mom walked into the kitchen one day to find Louis standing there, staring at his arm that was gushing blood.
"Lou! What happened?"
"I got cut," He answered.
Now, technically, Louis had cut himself, but Jay didn't find that out until the third time it happened. Her son was diagnosed with atypical depression the next day.
Louis was still being medicated for his disorder when he started college. His body was now riddled with scars and he could count one hand all of his friends.
Niall, Zayn, and Calum.
He was doubtlessly closest with Niall, who had been with him since the day of his diagnosis. Believe it or not, Niall was the happiest, peppiest, most optimistic person you'd ever meet. Not the type of lad you would ever think to be Louis' best friend. Niall had soft blue eyes, and soft blonde hair, and soft pale skin. He hugged tightly and laughed easily. The younger boy was one of the few things in Louis' life that made him smile these days.
Niall could talk, too. Mostly about people. He loved people, just like he did most other things (except fish tacos, the color black, and American football.) Mostly Liam Payne from his Biology classes.
"--He asked me out yesterday," the blonde haired friend continued his animated rant that had started about the color of Liam's eyes. Louis felt the sudden urge to lie down in the middle of a busy street. Or maybe cut himself. That worked too.
"That's great, Ni," Louis tried to smile, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Are you okay, Lou? Do I need to stay home tonight?"
"No!" Louis insisted. The last place he wanted Niall to spend his Friday night was cooped up in their apartment with a depressed buzz-kill like himself. "I'm fine, just-- have fun tonight, for the both of us, yeah? I'm gonna go lay down,"
"Okay..." Niall spoke a little uneasily.
Louis forced a smile onto his face to reassure the younger boy. "I'm fine, I promise."
******
Niall didn't see Louis until the next morning. The first thing he noticed were the fresh wounds on his best friend's arms.
The first thing Louis noticed was the stranger in their home. "Err-- hey?" He tried to greet the boy sitting in their kitchen.
"Hi, mate! You must be Louis. I'm Liam, Niall's boyfriend," Liam was tall and muscular, with round shoulders and a shaved head. He had warm eyes, and a warm smile, and a warm feel about him that Louis could swear made the room brighter-- he was a lot like Niall, which was comforted to Louis. Which is why he shook Liam's hand when it was offered.
"So you're boyfriends now, eh?" Louis asked Niall.
The blonde haired boy nodded shyly. "He asked me last night."
Louis grinned. He was happy for Niall. He was happy Niall wasn't like him, and that he had someone like Liam.
In the middle of breakfast one of Louis' recent cuts started bleeding again. It wasn't like he had been trying to hide them, but now Louis and Niall knew that Liam knew. Everything was awkward as Louis rushed over to the sink so he didn't get his blood everywhere. Niall got bandages from their extended supply and wrapped them around his best friend's wrist like he had hundreds of times before.
As the pair sat back down at the table with Liam, Louis felt the urge to apologize. So he did.
Liam actually laughed. "It's fine, mate. My good friend Harry's depressed as well. Nothing to be ashamed of,"
Louis almost asked why Liam thought he was depressed just because he cut himself, but then he thought that would be stupid, since, well, he was.
"Does Harry cut himself?" Louis asked like it was the most casual thing in the world. In all honesty he was just testing the brown-eyed boy to see how comfortable he was with this sort of thing. Niall had never liked talking about it in everyday conversation, but maybe Liam wouldn't mind.
"Nah," The taller lad answered, shaking his head.
Niall had a horrified look on his face at the fact that both his boyfriend and best friend were so easy going about this subject that was supposed to be sensitive.
The other two boys just laughed at him.
******
Louis wasn't all that big of a fan of being social. Sure, some nights he would be up for a club or two, but most of the time he preferred a night in, whether it be alone or with Niall.
"You're going," Niall said. Louis clearly did not have a say in the matter.
So he got dressed in skinny jeans and a button down-- nothing special, but Niall said he looked hot, so.
They were going to some bar place-- Louis hadn't been listening because he simply did not care-- to apparently meet up with Liam and his friend Harry.
Louis wasn't stupid. He knew Niall and his boyfriend we're trying to set him up with this guy. Maybe it was because they had depression in common, or Niall thought they'd be cute together, or something. All Louis knew was the lad's name and that he was dreading having to meet him.
They entered the crowded, stuffy building, and Louis was reminded again of how much he hated these types of things. Dates.
Who would want to date him?
"This way," Niall grabbed Louis' hand (only Niall was ever allowed to hold the blue eyed boy's hand) and began pulling him to the back left corner of the bar.
There sat Liam, with this other kid. And he was actually like, hot.
Then Niall and Louis got closer, and the older boy realized he wasn't just hot. He was beautiful.
"Hey, Love," Liam stood to greet his boyfriend. Harry stood behind him, waiting to be introduced.
Fuck-- he was tall. So fucking tall, and wearing this loose flannel and tight jeans.
"Guys, this is Harry. Harry, this is my boyfriend, Niall, and his best mate, Louis."
Harry gave them a sad smile that made his green eyes shimmer, and he just looked so sad, so miserable. Louis had never been so attracted to anyone before in his entire life.
"Hello, Niall. Louis," Harry greeted the pair. He was tall and lanky with a sad smile, sad expression, and sad movements, like, slow ones that made you want to fall asleep, or whatever.
Niall smiled as Louis breathed out a "Hello," and there was really nothing more to it.
Liam and Niall danced a little, drank, and laughed. Louis and Harry got to know each other, and Louis got to find out just how great Harry was.
They smiled-- maybe-- at Niall jokes, and talked about everything from their college course, to families, to depression.
"I'm the oldest out of five. They're all girls,"
Harry's lips curled out for a split second. "I have a sister, too. An older one. Gemma,"
"What's your major?"
"Don't know yet," there was beat of silence before Harry asked him: "You?"
Harry talked like he was reading a poem. Louis knew he'd be a poet; write mopey, dopey sad shit about how the world hasn't treated him fairly. The blue eyed boy also knew he'd read it all.
"Dance," Louis answered.
"What kind?"
"The ballet kind,"
"That's kind of sexy," Harry commented.
Louis smiled softly. He had always had a hard time taking compliments.
"Uhh... So here's the thing Harry Styles,"
Harry took a sip of his drink before setting it down and looking at Louis expectantly.
"I have atypical depression," Louis continued. "And my therapist doesn't think relationships are what I should be focusing on at the moment,"
"And what do you think of that?"
"I think you're the most beautiful human being I've ever seen, and you look really sad,"
Harry's eyes flitted around Louis' face for a moment. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. And I don't want you to feel that way,"
The taller boy laughed a little. "It's only 'cause I don't like taking my meds,"
Louis let out a shaky, breathy laugh, nodding his head a little. "Yeah, I know how that feels,"
Suddenly, (even though it was with his slow, sleepy movements) Harry reached across the table to hold Louis' smaller hand in his own. "Would like to go on a date with me, Louis?"
If there was one thing Harry always made Louis feel it was different-in-a-good-way. It's the reason he said yes to the date in the first place.
"Yeah, I'd love to," Louis smiled a real smile then. One that made Niall stop his conversation with Liam to look at his best friend in shock because Louis hadn't smiled like that in ages. Niall's face soon mirrored Louis' as he grinned widely, looking in between him and Harry.
Giving Niall a look, Louis stood up for the table and said, "Well I think I'm gonna head home. Niall, you coming or staying?"
"I'll come with you," Niall still hadn't stopped smiling. He stood up; bending down to hug and kiss Liam goodbye, and then began making his way towards the door.
Louis looked at Harry expectantly, and the taller boy stood up slowly, a sly smirk on his face.
"Just get my number from Liam," Louis mumbled sleepily, as he rested against Harry's chest, wrapping his small arms around Harry's slim waist. The hug was nice, and Harry's hands were warm and big on the small over Louis' back, and Louis only came up to about Harry's shoulder, yet he loved it all for some weird reason.
"See ya, Love," Louis said, standing on the tips of his toes in order to peck Harry's cheek.
"Bye," Harry mumbled, kissing Louis' forehead.
"Bye, Lou,"
"G'night Liam,"
******
Louis spent most of the next day in the studio. Jumping, leaping, twirling, perfecting everything he wasn't completely confident about. His instructor was visiting her sick mother in the hospital, so Louis was on his own.
For Louis to honestly say that he loved ballet was something big, because lately he hadn't been passionate about anything. His therapist constantly said the having something you love in your life helped. So did exercise. Which is why ballet was perfect for him.
After any rehearsal Louis liked to go home and sleep for hours and hours. Niall hated it when he did because oversleeping was a symptom of atypical depression and it just made him fret over Louis more. The older boy always insisted that he was tired because ballet. Louis also figured that after being productive he had a solid excuse to go home and crash.
He didn't get to go straight home today, though, because after changing he found Harry waiting for him in the lobby.
"Hey," Louis wanted to smile, he really did, but he couldn't get it out.
Harry however, was sporting a small grin. "Hi," he replied, pulling Louis in for a big hug.
That part did make him smile.
"I know this is super creepy," said Harry, "That I'm here and all that, but I was wondering if you wanted to go get coffee?"
Louis nodded; slinging his bag over his opposite shoulder to hold Harry's hand. He decided he missed the smile that had long since faded from the taller boy's face.
The pair walked in silence to a coffee shop not too far down the street. Louis only became self-conscious of the fact that he could use a shower when they entered the warm café, away from the chilly October wind.
"This doesn't count as our date by the way," Harry spoke up as they got in line to order. "What do you say about dinner this Friday?"
"Sure," Louis felt his stomach flipping, and his face heating, and he kind of still wanted to be at home napping.
After their little coffee date Louis walked Harry home since his and Liam's flat was closer to the studio than Niall and Louis'.
"I had fun," Louis said honestly, because Harry was charming and funny and still looked a little sad. "Now go home, take your meds, and text me later,"
Harry caught Louis' arm as he turned to go and pulled him maybe a little too hard, because Louis ended up stumbling into Harry's embrace, his small hands braced against Harry's chest, his shoes on top of his dates'. Louis hadn't been kissed in three years, but he still knew what to do with his lips as soon as he felt Harry's. The kiss was slow and tender and Louis was once again conscious of the fact he needed a shower, but Harry held him tight, and Louis' hands found their way to hold his cheeks.
"Right back at you," Harry said softly once they broke apart. At first Louis didn't know what he was talking about, until he remembered that he had told Harry to take his meds.
It was the first thing Louis did when he got home, and then he showered, and then decided to surprise Niall with cupcakes when he got home form his classes. Because Harry was texting him and he didn't want to have to say goodbye just to take a nap.
From: Harry:
I'm not keeping you up am I? xx
To: Harry:
haha no I'm making Niall cupcakes
From: Harry:
they better be funfetti
To: Harry:
no other cupcake mix is worth buying
From: Harry:
did you take your meds?
To: Harry:
that depends, did you take yours?
From: Harry:
yeah
To: Harry:
ooo he's already doing whatever I tell him to ;)
From: Harry:
ha but seriously?
To: Harry:
yeah I took them
To: Harry:
both of them
From: Harry:
oh wow double medication, fancy
To: Harry:
you could say that
From: Harry:
all right love Li's dragging me to a movie, text you later? x
To: Harry:
have fun xx
It went like that for the rest of the week. They were constantly texting each other. And every day would make sure the other had taken their medication.
On Thursday Harry told Louis he was glad they were both getting better. When he showed up to pick Louis up for their date the following night he didn't get the chance to say hello because Louis' lips were on his and Niall was pushing them out the door, telling them to use protection.
"Isn't he just the worst?" Louis groaned about Niall once they were walking out to Harry's car.
"He's no worse than Liam. No wonder they're together," Harry responded.
If Harry tried to tell you that Louis' laugh after he said that wasn't the reason he grabbed his hand, he would be lying.
"You have a beautiful laugh," Harry complimented after they're fingers had been entangled.
"Thank you," said Louis, because saying 'thank you' was a thing, and Louis could take compliments a little better now. One learns to after texting the flirtiest boy in existence for an entire week. "So where're we going?"
"I was actually planning on taking you to the most fattening, greasiest, and delicious diner in all of London. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like I want the diner food inside of me,"
"That can be arranged," Harry said, smiling softly.
Louis honestly didn't know that people still did the whole opening-car-doors-for-each-other thing. Maybe they didn't. Maybe that was just Harry Styles. Louis loved it nonetheless.
There were only ever two things about Harry the Louis didn't remotely like: the shit he pulled just because Louis didn't agree with him on something, and his taste in music. (But if he was ever being completely honest he loved both of those things just like he loved the rest of Harry.)
"Death Cab For Cutie?" Louis asked in disgust.
"What? You don't like them?"
"It's indie rock, Harry. Possibly the worst genre of music there ever was. You couldn't dance to it even if you wanted to."
"Well, excuse me, Louis, but not all music is measured by how danceable it is,"
Louis gave his date a ridiculous look. "That's the whole reason there ever was music to begin with,"
"You know what Louis? Fuck your shit,"
Laughing, Louis went to open his car door seeing that they were now at the diner Harry had talked about.
"No! Stop, I'll get it," Harry insisted, quickly getting out of the driver's seat and rushing around to the other side of the car to open Louis' door for him.
"You didn't have to do that," Louis said.
"Shut it, Tomlinson. I wanted to. You deserve the best,"
Louis blushed profusely, and then fumbled to interlace his and Harry's fingers.
The date continued to go perfectly, and they stayed seated in their diner booth, across for each other, legs tangled up under the table, talking intently. Comparing therapists to be exact. After avoiding the topic of mental illness all evening, Louis glad he finally had someone who could just be cool about it for one, since Niall was always blowing it out of proportion.
"Mine's pretty good, but she can be a down right bitch when it comes to telling me about how to live my life. I know she's trying to help, but Jesus,"
Harry laughed at Louis. The dimples in his cheeks made Louis' heart skip beats. He shifted in his seat a tiny bit. "Whenever my therapist gets on the topic of my self-harm--"
"Self-harm?" Louis interrupted. "Liam told me you didn't cut yourself,"
"Oh, yeah, well I don't, I mean, I don't. No, I uh. I burn myself. With lighters and shit. I've always been afraid of knives,"
Louis laughed, still giving Harry a curious look. Not a holy-shit-you-freak-you-burn-yourself look but instead a self-harm-with-fire-how-interesting look. Like when you meet someone or hear about someone who cuts with scissors and you think 'how do you cut yourself with scissors they aren't even that sharp.'
"Okay," Louis accepted Harry's choice of self-harm. He then decided he wanted to know what Harry's scars looked like since they must be different from his own.
He found out later that night when Louis had sex for the first time in three years.
He asked Harry to be his boyfriend three and a half weeks later.
*****
They fell in love. It went a lot faster than Louis remembered love taking, but that was okay.
Liam and Niall stayed together and Harry and Louis refused to go on double dates with them.
Louis remembered the day he decided he was going to stop cutting himself. It was the day of a recital, one he had been preparing for for months and months. He woke up at 6:34 AM and lay in bed, wrapped up in boyfriend's arms, wondering if being four weeks clean was even really worth it when you felt the way he did. And maybe it was selfish, to feel that way while lying in the arms of someone who loves you unconditionally. Eventually the guilt, and the stress, and the nerves got to him and he untangled himself from Harry's embrace, making his way to the bathroom. His razors were where they always were, and there was some kind of sick comfort in that.
As he sliced into his wrists, over and over, right over old scars from previous rendezvous with these blades, he hated himself.
I'm probably going to fuck this dance up. What if Niall sees these cuts? God, What if Harry sees these cuts?
And each though was a new reason to keep going. He only stopped after he began to feel lightheaded, and that's when he really saw all of the blood. It was everywhere.
He didn't want to clean it up, though. Louis also wasn't sure he wanted to stop the bleeding. Trying to stifle his sobs was barely worth it, and eventually they woke Harry up. It wasn't like Harry was mad, but that's all Louis could think as his boyfriend scooped him off of cold bathroom tile and cradled him in his arms. Louis was sitting in Harry's lap now, crying onto his shoulder, and staining his soft skin with his ugly red blood.
Harry just kept whispering in his ear, "You're gonna be okay, you're going to be fine. It's alright, you're okay," until Louis had stopped sobbing because all he was now was tired, and could he hardly breathe.
But all he could smell, hear, and feel was Harry and there was more than enough comfort in that.
His recital was beautiful.
"As always," Niall had said afterwards while they were all out getting drinks.
No one could see the cuts that littered Louis' wrists from the audience, so yeah, maybe it went okay. He later told Harry that his new goal was to be "the-rest-of-my-life clean." Harry smiled at his boyfriend and replied: "You can do it, I know you can,"
*****
Harry decided to stop burning himself three weeks later.
He and Louis had just pulled an all-nighter. It started with them watching Pixar movies, and ended with them fucking three times. The morning after Louis woke up before his boyfriend, put on his briefs and one of Harry's t-shirts, and went to go make them breakfast.
Harry was up not ten minutes later. Finding Louis in the kitchen in his clothes, cooking for him may or may not have been one of the greatest sights he'd ever seen. He waited until Louis had all the eggs scooped out of the pan and out onto plates before running forward and grabbing Louis from behind.
"Harry!" Louis had squealed.
Harry sat him up on top of the cool granite countertops, and then stood in between Louis' legs to kiss at his neck.
"Good morning, Love," Harry said against Louis' skin, grasping the sides of his tummy. The action made Louis spasm and giggle because he was so ticklish. He tightened his legs around Harry's waist, his heels digging into Harry's bum, and his arm around Harry's neck as Louis titled his head back in a fit of laughter.
Seeing Louis' bright, smiling face, with his beautiful blue eyes crinkled ridiculously so at the corners was enough to make Harry grin. His boyfriend proceeded to kiss each of Harry's dimples obnoxiously. The mood became a little more solemn as Harry rested their foreheads together and whispered, "Lou, I think I wanna be the-rest-of-my-life clean,"
"I'm glad. You can do it, Love, I know you can," Louis had said.
*****
As it turned out, they would both stay clean for the rest of their lives.
*****
Waking up the morning after their ten-month anniversary Louis thought Harry looked bright. He had bright red lips, and his skin was practically glowing, and when he opened his bright green eyes he said brightly, "Good morning, Louis,"
Louis couldn't help but compare this Harry to the sad, sleepy Harry he had met in Niall's favorite pub nearly a year ago. Both equally beautiful, but not equally happy.
It was supposed to be a good day. Louis was supposed to go have a quick rehearsal with his instructor, and Harry was supposed to start his Intro to Health class. (He had decided he wanted to be a nurse.)
Instead Louis was hit by a drunk driver on his way home from rehearsals and was killed on impact.
Niall was the first one to get the call, since he was Louis' emergency contact. He and Liam had just walked in the door, done with classes for the day, when Niall's cell started ringing. Liam held him while he cried and cried a little himself, and then called Harry, asking him to come over.
Harry knew something was off because Louis was late meeting Harry at his flat, and then he wasn't answering his phone, and now Liam was calling him?
Harry ended up walking right into Niall and Louis' flat saying, "He's dead. He's dead, I know he is, just tell me he didn't kill himself. Please, tell me he didn't kill himself,"
"He was hit by a drunk driver and killed on impact,"
"FUCK!" And then Harry was breaking down, and crying, and shaking, and pulling on his hair, and having the selfish thought of 'I would rather he ruin his five months of being clean than be dead.'
They planned the funeral once Louis' mom got to town.
"You're the man that made my little Louis all better. Thank you so much for the happy times you've given him," Was how she greeted Harry, tears rushing down her face, despite her pretending like they weren't.
"Louis got better all by himself, Miss. I just got the privilege of watching it happen,"
*****
Louis was buried in the same cemetery as his grandfather, or something like that. Harry never really bothered to know for sure. He decided that this whole thing was bullshit. Funerals and all that. Because now Louis was buried in a stupid wooden box, with the Death Cab For Cutie CD and lighter Harry had put in his casket, and no one would ever see him again. All that anyone would have to see now was the tombstone.
Louis William Tomlinson-1991-2014-Loving son, friend, and boyfriend.
Harry hated it because it didn't do his blue eyes, or bright smile, or beautiful body any justice whatsoever.
"I'm pretty-- I'm pretty fucked up without you Lou," Harry said, laughing at how dumb this was. Talking to a headstone, three months after his boyfriend died. "Me and you, we were fucked up kids. Instead of dreaming about growing up to be astronauts and veterinarians, we dreamed of dying. We were the type of kids who took the blades out of pencil sharpeners. We were the kids who used ibuprofen for the wrong reason. We were hopeless, Lou, and I don't want to be that way again," wiping away his tears was futile at this point. Harry sniffed a little, and then looked up at the sky, asking for a god he didn't believe in for strength. "I can't live without you Louis. I can breathe and sleep and eat and walk and talk but I can't live. But I'm gonna have to. I know I am. Niall and Liam they-- they're here for me; you don't have to worry about that. I know you'd want me to keep on going, so I am. I'm going to keep going until I get to see you again," He sucked in a shaky breath and bit his lip to keep for breaking down. He'd been crying too much lately. "I love you, Louis,"
*****
Five months after Louis Tomlinson passed away, Harry, too, was in a car wreck. After months of investigation, no one was able to prove whether it was an accident or not.
So Niall and Liam never got to know if Harry killed himself or not.
They buried him next to Louis.