You Have Me

The last four days have been a pain. And not because I'm still a mess, but because they have consisted of waiting for Harry to fall asleep (and he usually falls asleep when his eyes can't stay open and his body gives up from the exhaustion of his rehearsals and then waiting for me to join him) so I can sneak into our room and sleep, and then having to wake up an hour earlier so I can get dressed and then sneak out before Harry wakes up. Those aren't even the worst parts of my days in hell. Besides feeling like I've been awake for a month, I have to try and ignore Harry's sad eyes and hurt expression every time I dodge his cuddles or I answer his hello's with a head nod. It's horrible and almost traumatic because I miss him. It's scary and strange, because all I have to do is walk near him and I'll finally feel better. But I can't. I don't even know how to look at Harry anymore. What are we? What do I call us? Friends? Are we dating? Or is Harry really that insecure? There's also a chance that it was just a dream. That I'm just paranoid, and I'm subconsciously, but secretly hoping something is going on between the two of us. And that's humiliating.

Six hundred, new levels of humiliation.

Oh god. This all just screams disaster. Just like my life. It's all a disaster.

"Bethhhh,"

I'm not used to Louis's voice yet (and I should be, because he's been glued to my hip since our last talk) And it's all instinct when I curl up and try to make myself small. So I do, and when Louis looks upset I want to cry and runaway and oh, fuck me. "Hmm?" I hum and slow down my rapid heart rate. The thought of seeing Harry, sad and confused makes me want hurl.

"Why are you out here? Can't stand Harry's moping anymore? He's been down right awful hasn't he?"
Louis mummers absentmindedly. Oh, okay. Now I'm really going to throw up. And Louis going to be furious when I stain his vans with my breakfast, and the hotels going to kick me ou-

"Why are you avoiding Harry, hm? What has you so upset? And why do you look like you're about to fall over and die?"

Louis crouches down in front of me and strokes my cheek with his nimble fingers. It's so gentle and comforting, that now I'm not only fighting the need to give back my breakfast but I'm also fighting the need to have a mental break down. "We're best friends right? Like I tell you things and you tell me things....and then we don't repeat what we just heard? Right?" Louis sighs and sits down next to me. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and I close my eyes leaning my head on his shoulder.

And yes, okay, maybe we are best friends. Maybe.

"Right," He confirms and I let out a breath before moving away from his hold and turning to sit right in front of him. And Louis probably has the best listening face I've ever seen. It's a mix between a childlike curiousness and complete concentration. It's really quite adorable and really, really funny. "Spill it Mills, and I won't have any of this 'oh I have amnesia, so I'm not going to tell Louis everything', even though, you know you should, because it's me and I'm your best friend. Even if you don't remember." And he's a sassy little shit isn't he. And maybe, just maybe I'm really happy he's my sassy little shit.

"Two nights ago, I had a dream. Or maybe it was a flashback. I haven't decided yet." Louis nods and stays quiet, waiting for me to continue. "We were at some club or a party, I don't remember-"

"There's a surprise." Louis teases and I shove at his shoulder. My amnesia is a sore subject. I roll my eyes and Louis lets out a laugh. "Sorry, I'll stop." He promises with his hands up in surrender. I let out a quick chuckle and nod.

"Anywaysssss. All I remember is Harry standing over some bloody mess of a guy. And then you guys pulled him away and as I was cleaning up- well trying-to clean some of the blood, Harry came and dragged me away. Then we started fighting and he said that the guy wanted to take me away...and then he said he always protects me?......and I was going to tell him that I couldn't take it anymore he didn't let me finish, because he said I couldn't leave because he needs me and I need him and then I woke up and fuck, my tattoo Lou. The initials! They're H.S. And Harry's last name is Styles.....and it's....I'm....oh fuck me straight to hell, twice around."

I'm panting by the end of my rant. Louis looks shocked and almost conflicted. His lips open like he's about to say something but then it closes again. And no, he should tell me things, too right? Like this communication thing has to work both ways right? "I, uh. Oh look, we should go get coffee." Coffee? That does sound good, but no. What? He's about to get up and I quickly grab his arm preventing his escape.

"Louis, what's going on between me and Harry?" I ask. "Are there like, relationships that I should know about?"

"Beth," Louis groans and he connects his head with the wall behind him. "I fuckin' knew I should have forced Harry to come out instead. S'complicated."

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me. Even though you should, cause you know. We're like, best friends." I say. My hope comes crashing down and I don't know how I'm supposed to stay away from Harry when I tend to gravitate towards him. "I'll remember eventually, right?"

"Right," Louis says encouragingly. He opens one eyes making me laugh. I hesitate for a moment before deciding to fuck it and throw myself at him. I land on his lap and he belts out a surprised laugh. He shifts around until he's comfortable with me on his lap. "In the meantime, we can plan some sort of best friend type dates, to do some of the things we used to. Maybe it'll jog up your memories?" I move until my backs pressed against his chest and his arms around my stomach and his hands are playing with mine. I nod because yeah, maybe doing some of the things we used would help me. Maybe. Hopefully. If I'm lucky. And I'm not, usually. I yawn and stretch my head back, until it's resting where his shoulder and the crook of his neck meet.

"You're still, such a lazy arse," Louis says cheerfully. I close my eyes and nod.

"It's good to know not everything's changed then," I say softly.

"I don't know why you wanted me to come with you, Lou. You two look pretty comfortable."

And oh. Oh fuck. Well the desire I was feeling to hurl is back. And it's stronger. An angry Harry I can deal with, because everyone gets angry. But a tired, sad, and hurt Harry. Well that's lethal and it should be illegal. He looks just like he did in my dream (I really should stop thinking about it, until I know it's real) when I was about to tell him I would leave him. Oh god, no. I never want to leave Harry.
I scramble away from Louis and I feel like we've just been caught in bed together. Louis gets up and winks at me and then looks up at Harry. They have a secret conversation, and shit. I still really, really, really hate those stupid secret talks. He pats Harry's shoulder and then disappears inside.

That bastard.

Harry takes his spot, and I just want to scramble away. I don't think it's a fair playing field, when Harry looks so small and sad. "I miss you Beth. I miss you so fucking much." They say only your heart hurts when it's broken, but right now my whole body hurts.

"I'm here."

He shakes his head and waves his arms around. "No. You're here but you're not here at the same time. You don't come to bed until I'm already sleeping, and when I wake up you're already gone. You've been avoiding me, and it hurts Beth. It fucking hurts, because I don't know what I did. I need you to tell me what happened. Why are you so upset with me? Please tell me, please. I'll fix it. I promise I'll fix it." I have to look away and when I hear Harry sniffle I dig my finger nails into my thighs. I deserve to die, or I should get run over and I should be left on the road so other cars can have a turn. Because I'm possibly the worst person in the entire world, because not only am I the reason Harry's sad, but I've just made him cry.

"You didn't do anything Harry. It's me, and I need to figure some things out. But it's not you okay? I'm not upset with you." Harry looks up. His eyes are devastatingly wet and oh, baby. No. Baby, no.
"I can help you. I can help you figure out whatever it is. That way you can spend time with me, again. Yeah?"

Oh shit.

He looks so hopeful and his eyes are bright. How am I supposed to say no? How do I deny him anything when he looks like that? Well. I don't. "Yeah, um. Okay Harry. You can help me. But not tonight, because you look as tired as I feel." His smile is the answer to all my sadness. It brings out a flutter of butterflies on crack inside my stomach and it has me forgetting about my worries.

"Haven't been sleeping well." He says sadly. It's so sad that it has me reaching out and grabbing his hand and entangling our fingers together. I'm rewarded with a smile, that I return. "Let's just go back to our room, and watch a movie or something, okay?" I suggest not missing the way his grin widens when I say 'our' room.

"Yeah," Harry says and his face finally softens. "Yeah, that'd be nice. What d'you wanna watch? Something new?"

I shake my head with a new found determination. "No. No new stuff. I like familiar," I explain slowly looking away. "Something comforting. Like Mulan."

"Mulan?" Harry chokes out, and I wince because damn, his grip is tight. "Not UP?"

"No," I say curiously. "Is there something wrong with the Mulan? Do you not like it or something? I mean, how can you not?"

"I love Mulan," Harry assures me and there's a different look on his face. Something like determination and joy. And I want him to look like that everyday "Who's your favourite character then? I like Mushu."

"Mulan, obviously," I say squeezing Harry's hand in mine. My heads ducked down in a smile. "She's like the hero, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry says softly. "Yeah, I guess she is."

Notes

Someone come watch Mulan with me omg.