Chapter Text
Louis‘s POV:
There weren’t many instances where there was silence in Louis Tomlinson’s life.
Having grown up with many siblings and then working his teenage years as a waiter, he never found himself in quiet lasting longer than five minutes.
Now, he was sat in a rocking chair. The only sounds discernible were the soft breathing of his pup and the creaking of the floorboards underneath him.
Usually, silence made him uneasy.
Twitching with the need to fill the quiet. Quick banter, some small talk or even just humming a tune.
His teenage self was always vibrating with energy.
The way he so desperately wanted to be seen. Not just noticed. Valued, heard, understood, appreciated. Seen. For who he was.
He never fit the mold. When his friends started presenting, they changed. Talks of footie became talks of omegas, female omegas and their traits.
Everybody was burning with need to share the latest information they got from older siblings or adult magazines.
Soon he realised those topics weren’t for him.
He realised he was gay before he even finished his GCSEs.
Female omegas and their scent never caught his attention. When one of them came onto him, he felt brotherly affection maybe a little protectiveness but they never smelled like wedding bells.
What sealed it for him was Lucas Till.
Watching MacGyver became his solace.
Forty-five minutes carved out of his packed schedule every week without fail.
Every Wednesday after footie practice he‘d fold himself onto his family's tiny sofa and spend the next 45 minutes glued to the screen.
Week after week the same subtle pinch in his chest. I‘m not like the others . He even sat through the Hannah Montana movie multiple times just to see Lucas on screen.
His little obsession gave him something to cling to. He‘d created a space where he could be honest with himself, even if only in front of the TV. The memories come back now, replay interlaced with the “You Belong With Me” music video playing in his head. He almost hums along … until he remembers the silence surrounding him.
The silence. And its origin.
Charlie.
Memories of the past year flood his mind and he has to put his feet on the floor to stop the rocking of the chair, suddenly becoming nauseous from the movement.
How one year ago, he climbed the stairs to his apartment with heavy feet, ready to collapse onto his bed and escape into his dreams. One year ago, closing in on Christmas, he was dreading another holiday spent alone at his family’s house whilst most of his siblings cuddled up to their spouses.
His mum had already started asking who was bringing what for Christmas dinner. His sisters were posting photos of their decorated trees. Louis was just alone, working through the holidays like always.
Unaware of the turn his life was about to take, he got ready for work as he always did. On his way out the door he ran into his neighbour. An unsuspecting person, a short interaction interrupted by his obligations.
A bartender to drunk Londoners, nothing but a rude reminder of his rusty social skills. Or so he thought.
Instead of letting the rush consume him, his mind was circling around one topic. His neighbour. In hindsight, it was well worth it.
He never butchered as many drinks as that night but he just couldn’t focus.
It was mid-December. The building had that sad string of lights in the lobby. That was gonna be the extent of Louis‘s Christmas this year.
He had no idea that knocking on a stranger's door at 4am would be the best Christmas gift he‘d ever get.
Looking over to the crib in the corner of Harry’s former office, he thinks he understands now.
Slowly, he got up and tiptoes out of the room, afraid to disturb his firstborn’s sleep. Afraid to disturb the silence. The one thing he used to despise, he now guards to the best of his abilities.
Smiling at his own growth he slips into the adjacent room and stills.
In front of him, sprawled across their bed lies Harry. Their chest is rising and falling in an even pattern, grown out curls sprawled across the pillow.
With the same practiced caution he walks toward the bed, equally as eager to grant his love the rest they deserve. He slips under the covers. Once again he can’t help but appreciate the silence he‘s been granted. Just as he's gotten comfortable, like a sunflower turning to the light, Harry rolls over and right into Louis’s arms.
,,All good?‘‘. They drawl, tongue heavy with sleep.
,,All good!‘‘ Louis replies with a quick kiss to the crown of their head. A simple check- in they established shortly after the Charlie's birth. Nightly feedings were rough, naturally being exhausted to the brink of insanity stilted their communication. So they adapted.
A simple ,,All good‘‘ was enough to put Harry at peace. Detailed debriefs happened later, when both of them had had the opportunity to nap.
With Harry still recovering from the birth of their child Louis stepped up his game. Instead of Harry getting up every time the pup woke up, Louis made sure to cover all feedings from 11pm to 4am.
Since he was used to being up at these hours anyway, from his previous job, it didn’t really change much for him, sleep pattern wise.
That obviously led to a lot of discussion and arguments. Harry still had trouble accepting and asking for Louis‘s help.
,,Honestly H, the only thing changing is that my usual customers don't wear diapers. That aside, they cry, they drink, they sleep- no difference, same old‘‘ is what he once told Harry as he‘d prepared a bottle for Charlie.
And he didn’t charge the little one 12 quid for a drink made mostly of water, but he kept that one to himself.
Louis suspected, where he‘d already accepted himself in his role as a father, Harry still had trouble seeing him this way.
There were days when they tried to do it all on their own.
In the beginning, they would shut Louis out and only after relentless probing from Louis, break down at the end of the day, apologising profusely for their stubbornness.
Louis took it in stride. The transition wasn’t easy for both of them. He still remembered how, in the hospital, the nurses handed him this tiny bundle, half towel, half human.
Looking into those eyes, he knew.
He knew, by blood or not, that fragile soul was his to take care of.
The nurses had explained the benefits of skin to skin to him but he was barely listening.
Partially because Lottie had been chewing his ear off with all the information he did and didn’t ask for.
Partially because all he could focus on was the newborn baby laying on his chest.
He closed his eyes, settling into the bed. Next to him, Harry, already sleeping soundly.
Careful not to rouse them, he gently moves their hair off of their face and presses a kiss to the crown of their head. ,,Night, Angel’’, he whispers into the darkness of their bedroom.
……..
A few hours later, he awakens. The energy in the room has shifted.
Next to him, the bed is cold and the covers are strewn all over the bed. Harry’s scent barely lingers in the air. He pulls the covers off himself, turning frantic. His source of home and comfort is missing.
Their scent is very faint, but still discernible so they must be hiding somewhere close. His heart aches. Somewhere in their flat, Harry is clearly distressed but hiding it from him.
He got up and starts calling for them softly. Walking around the flat, he notices the door to the nursery being left wide open. Checking the crib, he breathes out in relief when Charlie is still asleep, like the angel that she is.
Closing his eyes, he tries to figure out where the scent is coming from. Eyeing their open-plan kitchen and living room, he scraps them from the list of rooms to check .
The utility closet is empty, as expected
Instead of slamming the closet doors closed, he holds onto the handles tightly, closes them gently and takes a deep breath.
Damn it Harry, not again
Opening the door to the building hallway, the scent strongly leads to his apartment. Throwing one last look over his shoulder, checking for sounds from the nursery and discerning none, he crosses the hallway.
He takes a deep breath, standing in front of his apartment.
He knows something is troubling Harry. They wouldn’t run away if they didn’t.
He wants to be let in.
He has to come find Harry at least twice a week now without an explanation of what he‘s hiding from.
What if he‘s hiding from you?
Somewhere buried deep behind the worry, repressed anger and despair, his brain remarks the weird feeling of knocking on his own door.
As it is, the door creaks and opens to a pale Harry with guilt written all over their features. He wants to yell. He wants to probe Harry until they answer his questions. But he knows better.
Having been in this situation a few times in the last two weeks, he doesn’t bother with asking questions.
Instead, he takes their hand and laces their fingers, pulling Harry into the hallway. With his other hand he closes the door to his flat and takes a step towards their apartment. ,,Come back to bed with me’’ he said quietly.
Taking another step forward his hand slips from Harry’s. He turns around to look at Harry's face.
Harry is still stood in the middle of the hallway. Eyes locked on the floor.
,,Can you tell me what’s wrong?‘‘ he asked, with as much patience laced in his voice as he can muster up.
They shake their head almost imperceptibly. A few tears roll across their face and they try to turn their body away from him. Feet rooted on the spot their torso twists in a way that sure looked uncomfortable.
Quietly he pads around them, opens his arms and waits for Harry to walk into them.
,,I‘m not mad. Please come back to me! We‘ll fix this‘‘ he whispers repeatedly.
I‘ll fix this, he thinks, determined. I have to.
Once their body collides with his, he starts stroking their back in slow strokes. ,,I’ve got you’’ he whispers over and over into their hair. Please talk to me, he wants to say.
Harry’s body starts to shake and he holds them tighter.
I can fix this, he promises himself.
After a while, the body wracking sobs have subsided. Putting some space between them, Louis asked ,, Wanna go check on Charlie?’’.
They nod and Louis takes their hand again. Taking a step towards their flat, he notices with relief that this time Harry is following him.
Harry‘s POV:
They get up and immediately make their way to the kitchen.
They don’t want to risk waking Louis.
They don’t deserve to cuddle up to Louis.
It’s still dark outside. The kitchen is illuminated by passing cars every now and then.
It’s quiet.
The flat looks different than it did last December.
Fairy lights were strung across the living room and a small tree sat in the corner, only half decorated because Charlie kept pulling off the ornaments.
The Christmas spirit had not caught up with them, yet.
Their hands shake as they switch on the kettle. As it hums to life they quietly pull out a chair from the table and sit down.
The sound of the kettle does nothing to stop their racing thoughts.
The voice in their head has just adjusted their volume.
Today, their head feels heavier. Everything feels heavier.
The kettle switches off, Harry stares at the steam rising from it. Making tea feels impossible.
They force themself to stand. Just as they're about to reach for the cupboard, the voice interjects.
,,What if you drop the mug and it shatters?‘‘
They shake their head, they wont.
,,You‘ll break Louis‘s favourite mug and his heart with it. He‘ll wake up and have to clean up after you.’’
Their hands start to shake again. Maybe tea isn’t a good idea right now.
Maybe later.
Later, they conclude, they could ask Louis to make them a cuppa.
,,Now you have Louis taking care of you and Charlie? Greedy.‘‘
The voice starts to sound similar to Paul's. They can’t let him in again.
Paul chose not to be with them. He didn’t want to be a father. He left them and Charlie, before they even knew it was a girl they were having.
Paul doesn’t have the right to ruin Harry’s life now. Not now, not ever.
In their head there isn’t just Paul‘s voice. There‘s also a tinny voice, sounding a lot like Anxiety, from inside out.
I can‘t do this anymore
I need to talk to Louis
Louis is doing enough…
I love Charlie, but -
I‘m not doing them justice …
She‘s the one perfect thing I get and I can barely keep it together
I‘m not doing enough …
Louis is doing too much, I should be able to do this on my own
Deep in thought they stare out the window, absentmindedly watching cars pass by.
The next time they look up, the sun has started to rise.
Harry stares at the empty mug in front of them. They don’t remember even taking it out of the cupboard.
No idea what time it is and not in the mood for tea anymore, they leave the kitchen.
In the hallway, the door to the nursery is cracked open. Upon stepping closer they find their baby awake and babbling away.
,,Heyy Charlie ‘‘ they coo as they pick them up. The baby grabs at their hair and tries to put her closed fist into her mouth.
Harry holds her close to their chest and closes their eyes, taking in the feeling. The pup soon starts squirming against them. ,,You must be hungry, huh babes? Let’s get you some food, darling‘‘ they say. In lieu of a reply they get a gurgle and a grumble of the little one‘s stomach.
Smiling at their pup, they sit down in the rocking chair and pull up their shirt. ,,There we go‘‘, they say and note with relief, that Charlie latches on easily. Leaning back into the chair, they watch as the rhythmic suckles turn lighter over time and they fall asleep.
They look across the room. Next to Charlie's crib lies a play mat, unopened.
The clean laundry tower on the changing table is rivaling the dirty laundry pile on the floor. It all screams overwhelm. With charlie being almost nine months old soon, they should’ve adjusted by now. Found a new routine. Settled into their new life.
But they didn’t. Instead they’re awake at 5 am on a Sunday, questioning their life choices, looking around a half furnished nursery.
A nursery that they promised themself would be finished before Charlie was born.
They notice a smell in the room and try to decipher if it's them or the pile of dirty laundry.
They do the maths and realise they haven’t showered in a week. They know. Their hair falls across their forehead in matted strands.
,,The same forehead Louis kisses every evening before they go to bed, you’re disgusting‘‘ the voice adds.
They know. They feel disgusting.Their shirt has at least three different food stains on it. It’s gross.
They know they should shower. At the thought of standing up for so long they almost start to cry.
This is what their life had become. They failed not only their child but themselves too. They wanted to be better for her. For Charlie.
The weight of the consequences hit much later.
Remembering how excited they set foot into the pregnancy and how depleted it had left them makes them shiver.
Exhaustion washes over them. A wave crashing over their head, only the water didn’t run down their body; it stuck to them like honey.
Their limbs feel like they are stuck to the chair. With every passing second their heart beats faster. Their breath quickens and they gasp for air.
All this whilst their eyes are locked on the sleeping form of their baby. They feel like drowning, everything around them is sticky-sweet.
The baby suddenly weighs tons and they can’t seem to move their arms.
Gathering everything they have left, they push themselves up from the chair and put the baby back into the crib. No noise reaches their ear, theres blood rushing in their ears so loud it drowns out everything else.
They fall to their knees and gasp for air. The nursery feels too small for their big thoughts.
In the hallway are two doors, left is Louis. The door to the right is the hall.
Harry is still cowered on the floor, moving forward in a shaky crawl. Their knees are already hurting but they can’t seem to pick up their body.
Standing up feels too big a chore. Helplessly they look between the two doors.
They hear the rustling of the bedsheets.
Louis is gonna wake up and find me like this. How can I explain this? Louis can‘t see me like this, they think.
With nowhere else to go, the apartment feels smaller the longer Harry crouches in the hallway.
Their body feels lethargic, hands trembling and legs so heavy, they might as well be glued to the carpet.
I‘m failing.
Whipping their head around at the sudden noise they realise that they‘ve been talking out loud. In their head the sentence loops.
I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m failing, I‘m-
Desperate to break free from the endless chant, they stand up and reach the door with fast steps. The door falls closed with a loud bang.
There, in the hallway, Harry finds quiet.
But then the cold air finds them and they shiver.
Turning around to stare at the closed door, their throat closes up. Their chest feels like someone's sitting on it.
They can’t inhale the way they so desperately want to and their insides start to crawl.
Tears start running down their face. Their breath comes out in shaky, broken pieces.
Standing in the empty stairway of their building they realise what they’ve just done. Their pup, that they are to care for, is left alone.
They pull their arms around themselves in a desperate attempt to comfort themselves and calm down to a more rational state.
They are not alone, Louis is there a small voice said, then quickly drowned out by louder voices in their head.
You failed, you failed, you failed, you-
The chants start up again this time louder and with more vigour than the last time. Everything starts spinning.
They turn back to the door, pushing on the door knob, trying to go back into the apartment, get into bed and beg Louis for forgiveness.
Their thoughts spiral and don‘t seem to stop. Considering their options they look down the stairs.
With the exhaustion still weighing down their body, they discard that idea quickly and instead cross the hallway to enter Louis’s flat.
Standing in Louis’s living room the faint smell of their partner brings warmth to their icy fingers. Louis‘s scent brings calm to their painful thoughts.
Walking towards the couch, they quickly locate a pillow and a knitted blanket.
As their head hits the pillow they let the exhaustion take over.
…
Not having slept for long they wake with a startle.
Somebody's at the door.
All at once, everything rushes back to them. They try to remember a time where they woke up without worries weighing them down. They can’t think of a time where they felt okay.
Everyday, they wake up in a bottomless pit where the sun doesn’t rise.
Their life used to be filled with light and it feels like they are being starved of it.
They used to fight for their place in the sun but over time it became too exhausting and they stopped trying.
Louis brought back the sun; yet Harry’s need exceeded his shine and soon Harry felt like a burden for needing it.
They don’t want to leave Louis waiting any longer. Even though they fear Louis’s reaction to their behaviour they get up, to open the door.
,,If he leaves you now, you more than deserve it!‘‘ Oh great the voice is awake as well, good morning to you too.
With shaking hands, they open the door.
The first thing they notice are the bags under Louis‘s eyes.
Would Louis want to hold them?
All they want is to fall into his embrace and know they’d be held.
Harry left him, in the middle of the night, with a pup that wasn‘t his, without a word.
Why was Louis still standing here? Was he yelling at Harry to get out of his apartment and out of his life? .
Louis grabs their hand, Harry follows the natural pull they always feel towards him.
When Louis takes a step towards their flat everything comes to a halt.
Suddenly their feet feel rooted to the floor again. A knot forms in their throat. Their chest feels tight and their breathing turns shallow. The air thickens again.
Louis is talking but Harry's mind is busy with asking questions they can’t answer. They look down. They can’t look Louis in the eye after pulling a stunt like this.
They want to tell Louis about feeling broken, about being scared all the time. They want to tell Louis that they’re not running from him or Charlie.
They turn back towards the apartment, looking at the door and realising Louis must’ve closed it. Turning away from Louis they suddenly feel colder.
Every cell in their body is crumbling, yet they can‘t turn back towards their source of life.
They want to, so badly.
In an attempt to gather their thoughts, they close their eyes.
Focusing on their breathing, it takes them a few minutes until they can open their eyes again. They open their eyes to Louis, stood in front of them with open arms.
Suddenly Harry is back in their old apartment, with Paul telling them ,,You’re too much’‘ They recoil.
Louis is not Paul, Louis is not Paul, Louis is not Paul, Louis is not Paul, … they repeat to themselves.
Still unable to look Louis in the eyes, they stare at his feet.
His feet and toes are pointed in his direction and everything in his body language looked open and inviting.
Louis smiles at them, arms wide open, and Harry's stomach drops.
Louis tries so hard. He still cares so much, after all I put him through.
He‘d be happier without me.
Louis hasn’t moved an inch. Arms wide open, waiting for Harry to come back to him. After all they‘ve done, he still waits for them to come back to him.
One last time, Harry thinks.
Harry closes the gap between them and throws their arms around him, folding themself into Louis‘s smaller frame.
Louis wraps his arms around them. Being held feels completely wrong. Like a reward they don’t deserve.
They try to fight the calming effect Louis’s scent has on them. Slowly but surely their nervous system calms down and the tears stop.
They can’t depend on him like that any more. They need to fix themselves before Louis realises what a failure they are.
Giving up they fully focus on Louis‘s scent, only coming to when Louis moves his arms from their back to their shoulders. ,,Hey, you with me again?‘‘ he whispers softly. Harry nodded.
In the back of their mind, they still believe Louis deserves better. They want to be a good parent so bad.
The sound of soft crying is slowly being recognised by their ears. With a heavy heart they notice the numbness the sound spreads through their body.
Trying to focus on the present, they hold onto Louis’s shirt to ground themself.
After collecting all their bravery they look up into Louis‘s eyes.
All they see in his eyes is love. How they ever doubted his love, is foreign to them.
This is their Louis, he has proven countless times that he will show up for Harry and their pup whenever they need him. He has proven himself over and over again.
With Louis‘s hand in theirs they walk into the flat together. Louis always one step ahead of Harry. Not intruding, but paving the way.