Young & Beautiful

Louis’ heart lurched.
Unthinkingly, he took Harry’s hand in his own.
Harry didn’t let go.
“Yeah. Yeah I will, I promise. Just don’t do that anymore. You can’t do stuff like that.”
Pause.
“I know.”
Another pause.
“I will.”
And another.
“I can’t. But—But yeah. I’m trying. I will. If I have an opportunity, I’ll come. I just have school
—“ Harry bit his lip. “I need to go to school, Father.”
Louis squeezed his hand.
His heart stopped when Harry squeezed back.
“Okay, all right, fine, whatever. I just—no, dad, I’m not—okay, yeah. Yeah, all right. I w—hello?
Hello?” And then Harry took the phone away from his ear, stared at it momentarily before tossing
it onto the desktop.
“Everything all right?” Louis asked quietly, refusing to let go.
Harry stared at his phone where it lay, unmoving, before regarding Louis, eyes sad.
“No. He wants me to come back. He gets angry because he doesn’t understand why the world
doesn’t revolve around him.” He sighed, eyes falling to their linked hands and pulling them into
his lap.
Louis’ heart pounded the tiniest bit harder.
(Okay. That’s a lie. Louis’ heart pounded a fuckton of a lot harder.)
“I don’t always know what to say when he’s like that,” he continued quietly, gripping Louis’
hand. His voice was young, small.
Louis stared.
For the first time, Harry was actively seeking Louis for comfort. With no qualms. Just honest,
open, comfort.
And for a second, a brief second that was as beautiful as it was painful, Louis could pretend that
this was what they could have. That this was what they were. Pretend that they were together, a
unit, a young and beautiful couple with the world at their feet and problems they will never have
to shoulder alone.
“You don’t always have to,” Louis had said, eyes never peeling away from Harry’s face. “You’ve
just got to do what you can, Harold. And in that way, it’ll always be the right thing.”