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Quiet. The house was too quiet. Eerily quiet.
Tick-tick-tick. The incessant noise from the clock went on as the day turned into noon; the sun climbing further, unbothered with how the gloom still perpetuated below it.
The sound of cars driving down the road carried inside the walls, no matter that theirs was a gated community, even the most silent engines managed to grate against his nerves. With a reluctant groan, Louis sat up in the bed, shoving away the heavy duvet. His own sounds of discontent proved to be a catalyst to the feeling. The glares from the sun shone in his eyes and he cursed at his own stupidity for not closing the blinds at night.
No messages, no missed calls. Not that he should have expected them after his behaviour that whole week.
Selfish. He had been cruelly selfish.
Each time Harry drove him to the hospital for his check-up and therapy, Louis’ ire grew. Each time Harry asked after him, he felt annoyance rise within. Each time the alpha helped him in doing the minimal work, he felt useless. He could hardly bathe himself without assistance, could barely make it down the stairs without succumbing to pain, he felt trapped within the house; a butterfly pinned to the board with its wings clipped and displayed.
He felt vulnerable.
And he hated every moment of it.
The tension between them had started to grow when Harry returned to work, without his alpha by his side, Louis felt as if he was losing his grip on reality; the hours merging together until the man returned with his gentle touch and genuine care. Louis should be grateful, but all he felt was annoyance. He knew Harry was angry with him for getting himself in that situation, for not leaving when he had been told to, and Louis wanted the alpha to vent his frustrations so they could both be done with this distance festering between them.
Not that Louis was helping it by snapping at the man every chance he got, asking to be left alone and not allowing the alpha in the nest – the nest Harry had built for him. Locking the alpha out of his own bedroom last night had definitely been a step too far, still the man had woken him with a kiss to his head and told him to heat his breakfast when he was ready to get out of bed.
It didn’t help that with each day, Louis could recall those events with more clarity. It played behind his eyes like a clip from a movie, evading any sleep he managed to get, plaguing him with even more nightmares. The gun pointed at Harry’s head, the blood dripping down his face, the images blurring until the alpha was laying lifeless in that dingy basement; Louis would rather not sleep than go through that distorted scenario of what if.
How could have Harry asked him to leave? He would rather live through this pain for the rest of his life than live a life without his alpha in it. He had made that mistake once, had suffered through a whole decade of yearning for his mate, there was no possibility he would do that again.
Unbidden, with each day, the thought followed. He had accepted his fate there in Harry’s arms. Had been ready to die with the knowledge that he had protected his mate.
And that was something he refused to admit to Harry.
Tick. Tick. Tick. On and on went the clock.
Louis pulled himself out of the nest, heart clenching at the sight of its rumpled state compared to the perfectly made bed. He had been so cruel. Harry deserved someone much better, someone who would appreciate the little things the alpha did rather than punish him for something he had not done. Louis did not find himself worthy of the alpha’s unconditional love.
The pain in his leg had him coming to a sudden stop. Ideally, he should not be putting any weight on it, but that meant using the crutch, and Louis hated that piece of metal more than he hated the discomfort of not using it. Still, he strapped it to his arm, hand curling around the handle. It felt entirely foreign, the only time he had used it willingly was at the hospital, after which it had sat in a corner collecting dust while he strained his already frail limb.
The admittance came along with shame; it was indeed much relieving to use the crutch, his leg did not buckle as he climbed down the stairs and into the kitchen.
A melancholic smile curled over his lips when he found Yorkshire pudding in a glass tray and a plate of cinnamon rolls.
Comfort food.
Harry was not a fan of heavy meals during breakfast, yet the man had taken the time to wake up early enough to prepare what could only be described as an indulgence for Louis.
Louis wanted to drag the man back home and... and what? Tell him how bloody perfect he was? Ask him to be selfish? Tell him how gone Louis was for him?... How sorry Louis was for being a shitty mate?
All of them – Louis realised – he wanted to tell Harry all those things, and secretly he wished Harry to keep being indulgent, to be unselfishly and irrecoverably in love.
A part of him knew that he still found it difficult to accept that someone like Harry could love him despite all the transgressions he had conducted against the man. Was that why he kept pushing the alpha away? Maybe. He might think himself unworthy, but unlike Harry his love was selfish. He would not let go of what could only be sudden chance of fate, one which had given him the life he had once walked away from. His love bordered on obsession – the alpha was his and no one else’s. That was why he had poked and prodded months ago until he knew that the alpha had not replaced him.
He might have been inclined to take matters into his own hands had that been the case, but fortunately his hands remained clean.
His love was obsessive enough to not let Harry face the cruel end of the barrel of the gun, for the world would be bleak without his mate, and that was enough to console him. His obsession and selfishness were justified when it came to protecting his mate. He needed to do better, Louis knew – knowing how deep his feelings ran through his blood was one thing and showing it to the person that fascination belonged to was another. He needed to not let his insecurities disrupt this heaven they had built.
Those insecurities had torn them apart. They tried to convince him again he wasn’t good enough for the alpha, and he needed to squash them before they swallowed him whole.
The day passed at an anguishing pace; unavoidably slow. The noise from the TV acted as a buffer between Louis’ sanity and anger; it was all so dreary, dragging his spirits further down. He only noticed that it was nearing seven in the evening when Harry’s voice carried over from the door. “I’ll be down to make dinner in a few.”
Louis nodded absently, not that Harry had waited for his reply.
The dinner lacked its usual flair, simple food and simple conversation; they might as well have been strangers.
“Amy is settling well at the new facility,” Harry said. That was another thing they needed to discuss, both wishing a similar route but the waters were too unsettled to have that conversation. Their shared trauma had bound Amber to them and Louis wished to see it through, it would take time, and Louis was willing to maintain his patience.
“Can I go see her?”
Harry nodded, “I’ll be home early tomorrow, we can go then.”
Avoidance – it had always been a cruel tactic on Louis’ part. Apologising was never easy. He stalled through the dinner, sat and watched as the alpha rinsed their plates, paused when Harry bid him goodnight and retreated to the study.
It was much later when Louis finally gathered the courage and knocked on the door to the study before letting himself in. Harry’s gaze fell to the crutch in a silent acknowledgement before meeting his own.
“Why aren’t you angry with me?” He asked, chiding himself immediately, that was not how one started an apology.
“What?”
“I haven’t exactly been a fair recipient to your worries and care,” he said. “And you’ve been extremely patient, even when I refused you your own bed. Why?”
Harry sighed and turned back to the photos splayed in front of him, “Are you seeking a fight?”
“I am seeking an answer.”
“I’m not angry because there’s nothing to be angry about.”
“Then you’re lying.”
“Lou—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Harry packed the photos into a file, taking his time as he put the file away before coming to stand in front of Louis. Louis took note of the shadows under the alpha’s eyes, the weariness in his stance, the invisible weight on his shoulders. Louis reached for him, splaying his fingers over the alpha’s torso, sliding them down and around his middle.
“Just tell me to not be so conceited,” he whispered, eyes fluttering shut as the alpha cupped his cheek.
“I’ve been scared,” Harry spoke, holding him close, safe, “For a while, that day, I thought I had lost you.”
“Harry...”
“You stopped breathing in my arms.” The alpha’s voice quivered, Louis could picture the sadness in his eyes without looking up. “I couldn’t find a pulse, the EMT was taking too long. And I had to stay back at the site because I made a promise to you. I was so angry then, at you, at myself. I needed to be at your side, even if I couldn’t do anything. They told me later they had to resuscitate you... and, ever since then, I’ve been wondering, what if...”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Harry shrugged, “Didn’t want to cause you undue stress, and... maybe I was a little cross with you.”
“Because I stepped in to save your life?” He frowned.
“Because you voluntarily disregarded your life.”
Louis pulled away, “So, what? You expected me to sit quietly while that man took Amy? Or to wait out while your head was blown to bits?”
“I expected you to follow direction, to stay out of danger—”
“And watch you die,” Louis scoffed.
“I am trained for such circumstances, it wouldn’t have come to that,” Harry said with his ever-present patience, unknowingly fuelling Louis’ irritation.
He stepped away from the alpha, creating a physical distance from the man who refused to see reason. His leg still stung; pins and needles, he thought. The thing was, Harry would have preferred if Louis had turned the car around and left, no matter what happened to anyone else, of that Louis was aware. And it did not set well with him.
“I might have put myself in danger, but I’m fine now, getting better by the day,” Louis said, turning to face the alpha again, “Still, I can’t go outside without you. I’m trapped in here!”
He could have worded it better, Louis realised as he saw Harry’s shuttered expression.
“You... want to leave?”
“No, goddammit!” He clenched his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want you to stop walking on fucking eggshells around me! Just... just stop. I’m not some damsel. Tell me when I’m being an ass, alright?”
Harry shook his head, looking out the window, “You’re being an ass right now.”
“Really?”
“When I say you stopped breathing in my arms, you do realise what that means, right?” Harry walked to the window to close it. He met Louis’ gaze once before leaving the room, “I can’t live in a world without you in it, so of course, I’m going to walk on fucking eggshells.”
Louis followed after him, trying to ignore the pain that climbed up his limb, “Don’t walk away in the middle of a conversation.”
“We’re going in circles, there’s no point to it.”
“I’m sorry...” Louis whispered, audible enough for Harry to stop and turn.
‘What?”
Louis bit his lip, sighing deeply, “What I’ve been meaning to say is, I’m sorry for being a shitty mate these past weeks. You—you’ve been so good to me, and I just, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I keep thinking you’ll get tired of me, and I know, I know you won’t, but I just—God, I’m so sorry.”
“Lou...”
“I still stand firm by what I did, I would step in to save you whenever I can, I’m not apologising for that.”
“Okay.”
Louis gulped, accepting the arms opened in invitation, finding the lost comfort in them, “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass.”
He felt Harry smile against his neck, “I might be able to forgive you.”
“What will it take?”
“An honest answer to how you are feeling?”
Louis sighed, no longer able to suppress how badly he hurt, “Not good. It hurts like hell.”
“Oh, baby,” Harry kissed his forehead, “Let’s get you into bed, and I’ll massage your leg.”
“I want a bath first.”
“We can do that, too.”
Harry led him slowly into their bedroom, shouldering most of his weight.
That night, they slept buried under the covers of Louis’ nest for the first time. They might argue again, Louis might feel agitated from the codling, Harry would keep being patient – the voice of reason as Louis vent his frustrations. But for now, their hearts were in harmony after nights of unrest. They had each other, come whatever.