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Its 2am and Liam’s not back yet.
It’s not exactly an uncommon occurrence, but usually when he’s out this late, Louis will be with him. And it won’t be a school night. But it is a school night and Louis is not with him. Louis is sat alone in Liam’s bedroom, on Liam’s little bed. Waiting.
Louis doesn’t much like waiting. He finds it boring and a waste of his youth. He’d rather everything’d just hurry up and happen already. But he’ll wait for Liam. He’ll always wait for Liam. Maybe he should be more surprised about that.
But it’s not surprising, not really. Especially after the day they’ve had. Well. The day that Liam’s had to suffer through. Alone. Some gossip spread around. Some incriminating, except totally not, accusations. Some choice words thrown into the silence of the corridors. And Louis had to find out after. After Liam had ran off, crying and ashamed and embarrassed and alone. After he’d been exposed and betrayed. After he’d been outed. Alone.
Louis had promised him he’d never have to be alone. Especially in that.
So Louis’ not really surprised that Liam hasn’t texted him. But it doesn’t stop Louis from wishing he had. From wishing he’d been there for him. From wishing they were together now. And no amount of insults yelled at him as he’d been stood in the hallway, again waiting for Liam, would stop Louis from wanting to protect Liam. To wrap him up in his arms away from all the idiots at school who think they know better. Who think they have to right to do that to his Liam. Louis would take all the insults and punches in the world if it meant Liam was happy and safe.
If it meant he was here, now. If he’d just text someone, anyone, to tell them he’s ok. That he hasn’t got himself hurt or mugged or lost or worse.
Louis really hates waiting.
He’s lying on Liam’s bed, taking in the familiar scent of him, dare he say them, that surrounds him. All the wonderful memories. The tacky seashell lamp that Louis got him from Blackpool sat on the bedside table, the only light in the otherwise dark room.
He doesn’t realise how close he is to falling asleep, drained emotionally and physically, until there’s a body slamming the door open and whisper-yelling back out into the house, “I don’t want to talk about it, mum, just go back to sleep.”
Liam. It’s Liam. His Liam. And he looks ok. Angry and sad and tired but, at least, physically ok. Louis doesn’t know whether he’s relieved or pissed off beyond belief.
He doesn’t notice Louis at first, instead slams the door closed again, following it like magnets and pressing his forehead up against the cool wood.
Louis figures their hearts are probably connected somehow with how much his is aching.
He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want to startle Liam, but doesn’t really know what to say, either. Thinks that if he opened his mouth to speak he’d probably just throw up.
When Liam does push himself off the door, pulling his t-shirt off as he turns towards his bed, Louis feel like he just might throw up anyway.
When the fabric pulls away from Liam’s head, leaving his hair a mess, and he finally spots Louis, he thinks he might even pass out from the look on Liam’s face. Every negative emotion rolled into one and then covered up with complete nonchalance. It’s so good a cover that it’d probably fool anyone. Well, anyone but Louis.
“What are you doing here?” is what leaves Liam’s lips. He sounds tired and rough around the edges, and, most notably, cruel. Spitting the words at him like Louis’ the last thing he’d ever wanna see right now.
It hurts. But mainly in tampers down his longing to hold Liam, leaving only his burning anger.
“Don’t you dare do that again!” he yells, jumping up from the bed, facing Liam head on.
“What?” And he doesn’t know if Liam’s playing stupid or not but it’s certainly not helping the situation.
“You can’t do that, Liam. You can’t run off like that, not without telling anyone where you’re going.”
Liam laughs, humourless, throwing his t-shirt to the ground unceremoniously, jeans soon following. “It’s none of their business.”
He wonders if Liam’s doing this on purpose. Trying to distract him. “They care about your wellbeing, of course it’s their business.”
Now Liam’s thrown himself onto the bed, over the sheets and back against his headboard. He looks like a petulant child. Playing anger. “No. it’s not. And I’m sick of people making my life their business when I don’t want them to.”
Louis follows him onto the bed, kneeling by the boy’s shins. “Liam, I get that, I really do. But this is not the same thing. This is your friends worrying about you.”
He looks so small and alone, curled up and hugging a pillow to his chest. Louis heart aches. “Well they shouldn’t, why should they care. They don’t get it, and I don’t want to talk to them anyway. I don’t have to text them my every move.”
Any other time Louis would roll his eyes, but not now. Now he rests a hand on Liam’s ankle, relieved when he doesn’t shake him off, and tries to sound as soothing as possible. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Whatever, I don’t have to text them ever.”
He draws nonsensical patterns into the soft skin of Liam’s ankle, a sure-fire way to calm him down. He hopes its working. “Maybe not them, but your mum.” He shrugs a little, unsure. “Me.”
Silence. Not quite tense but certainly not comfortable either. Liam finally looks him in the eye, seeming to figure out something. Maybe that Louis had the exact same words yelled at him today. Not as much, and he knows it’s not the same, but still. Louis can definitely relate. And just like that Liam goes from stubborn and cold and angry to a mess of a boy, sobs wracking his body, tears soaking the pillow still in his arms. His voice is so weak, broken, but Louis still hears him. “You weren’t there.”
And Louis has to try his hardest not to break down too, because he knows that Liam doesn’t need that right now. He shuffles over to him as quickly as he can, pulling him into his chest. And thankfully Liam accepts it, chucking the pillow off the bed in favour of dampening the fabric of Louis shirt instead.
Louis doesn’t think he can hold it together much longer. Hold Liam together where his threatening to break apart between his fingertips.
He hugs him so tight he’s surprised they don’t blend together. He thinks he’d rather like that. “I know,” he whispers into the errant curls behind Liam’s ears, “I’m so sorry.”
Liam just sobs harder, clinging to Louis for dear life. “They kept saying all these horrible things about me, about us, and I didn’t know where you were. You said you’d always be there.”
Louis can’t breathe. “I’m so sorry, I promise I will be, from now on, forever, I promise.”
They just sit there, Liam shaking in Louis’ arms, for a while. And all Louis can think about is how much he’d do for this boy. Whatever he’d ask of him really. He’d hope he’d only ask nice things, but he’d do whatever for Liam. Maybe that’s what love is like.
He wonders if Liam would do the same for him.
When Liam’s breathing evens out a bit more, Louis relaxes his grip a little, muscles aching, but he buries his face in Liam’s hair, letting him know he’s still there. “I promise you, I’ll never let you feel like that again. Whenever you need me. But you’ve got to let me know if you’re ok or not. My heart nearly broke with worry.” There’s a fierceness in his own voice he didn’t expect, but it feels apt, his feelings for Liam bleeding into his tone.
“I just felt. I dunno. Alone.” And yeah Louis’ heart breaks even further with that.
“You’re not alone, not really. I’ll never let you be alone again.”
That seems to calm Liam down almost completely, and from where he had been a ball of tension, now he sags against Louis chest, breathing a little harsh but deep. He nuzzles into Louis’ neck, breath warm against his skin, voice so soft Louis wants to wrap himself up in it. “I love you so much.”
Louis’ breathing stutters, heart doing much the same. He slides down the bed until him and Liam are face to face, still wrapped up around each other, and he pulls the duvet over them for that extra warmth. To keep the bad words out and their love in. God, love. And he looks Liam right in the eye when he says it, so he’ll maybe understand just how much Louis means it. “I love you too. So, so much.”
And Louis knows this doesn’t fic everything. There’s still a bunch of cruel kids waiting for them at school and a gaggle of worried friends and Liam’s mum’s probably gonna kill them both in the morning. But right now it’s enough. More than enough, really. Because everything’s a little bit easier when you’ve got a little love. And they’ve got a hell of a lot of love.