you're cold and I burn (on hold)

a small, light laugh breezes from his lips. It’s funny how just last night he was screaming at Harry,
fuming with anger, his words were toxic <strong>and</strong> harsh. But then he was hiding behind Harry <strong>and</strong>
allowing him the trust, the trust he shouldn’t have that Harry would keep him safe. And judging
by the ready <strong>and</strong> tight grip on that bat he was more than willing to swing it on someone if they
posed a threat, either to his life, or to Louis' life. And that thought was so sweet, it was comforting.
It made Louis melt into a puddle on the floor <strong>and</strong> it made him want to stay like that. He highly
doubts that Liam, or even his own father would be willing to do the same. In fact, he knows they
wouldn’t. And that’s his own family, which makes the situation even more of a joke, he barely
knows Harry.
Louis can still remember when he was little, <strong>and</strong> he was alone in his room before he had his trusty
nightlight. He was fast asleep, but the images that played in his head felt more than real. He
dreamt about the forrest, the one right behind his childhood home. He was alone, <strong>and</strong> the wispy
branches were like h<strong>and</strong>s reaching out to him, trying to grab him. And he was running, he can
remember the way the breath would <strong>burn</strong> as it entered his lungs. The dirt pounded beneath small,
dirty converse <strong>and</strong> there was screaming all around him. He couldn’t see further than a few feet in
front of him before everything faded into a deep black. He kept running <strong>and</strong> running but soon he
wasn’t moving, he was stuck in the same place. Louis didn’t realize that when he was screaming
in his dream, he was screaming in reality. His dad had come running into the room, only to find it
was just a nightmare. Louis screamed himself awake, eyes immediately l<strong>and</strong>ing on his dad,
annoyed <strong>and</strong> leaning against his door frame.
“It was a dream, you’re always so dramatic.” He had said before leaving him to go back to bed,
just like that. It was hard, because Louis was never allowed to feel scared without feeling the
parallel of “pathetic.” Guess it felt nice to have someone that was willing to st<strong>and</strong> in front of him
as this burglar/raccoon was infiltrating the trash beside his bedroom window.
He shook the memory, bringing himself back to the reality of tonight.
“Y’okay?” Harry’s voice startled him, his head snapping to look at him. He must have been
shooting involuntary daggers because Harry raised his h<strong>and</strong>s in defense, “Just a question.”
“S-sorry, yeah, you just startled me.”
“I seem to do that often.”
“I’m used to living alone, so.”
“Yeah.” Harry’s voice carried through the air, it melded with the c<strong>and</strong>le light. His hair is an erratic
mess, still wet but possibly towel dried just a bit, with dry boxers. Apparently, he was smart
enough to change while Louis still stood soaking ass wet in the middle of the living room,
thinking about nightmares from when he was a kid <strong>and</strong> just being all around weird. Of course.
He walks over to his room, wet feet leaving prints on the floor <strong>and</strong> almost making him slip <strong>and</strong>
break his neck. He stops right in front of Harry, the proximity close enough to feel the heat from
his body, his words come out more of a whisper “Thank you.”
Harry’s lips pull into a small smile at the corner, “For what?”
“Y’know, going out there, with your bat <strong>and</strong> all.” Louis’ voice gets weaker with every word, like
he’s embarrassed to be thanking Harry, but it’s very necessary.
Harry takes a step forward, <strong>and</strong> Louis' face is inches away from his chest, still streaked with rain
water. His eyes travel down, then back up before meeting with jade green eyes, a spike of
electricity shoots up his spine <strong>and</strong> into his brain, his thoughts morphing. “Don’t mention it, Louis.