Chapter Thirty Seven

"So I was thinking," Niall said, looking up from his laptop, "I know you already go to therapy once a week, but I was thinking that maybe just for the next month or so you could try going twice a week. Once things get a little better, you can go back down to your normal though, I just thought-"

"I, I haven't been going," Harry admitted, tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie.

"What do you mean?" Niall said. "How long since you stopped going?"

"A few months," Harry said. "I wanted to feel more, more normal I guess, I just though that... that he wouldn't want to be with someone who was in therapy all the time. Wanted to be a normal boyfriend." Harry bit his tongue, regretting admitting it Niall. He wasn't normal, wasn't normal at all.

"H," Niall sighed, his blue eyes soft and comforting. "You can't just quit therapy like that, it's not a bad thing to go, doesn't make you different or strange, I promise. I found this really nice lady who's good with grief counselling, and I thought that maybe-"

"I'm fine."

"Well you're not fine right now," Niall said. "And you're someone who needs therapy and that's okay. I booked you an appointment for-"

"I said I'm fine," Harry insisted. "I'm going for a bath now."

"Harry," Niall sighed. "Can we just talk?"

"I don't want to talk," Harry said.

"That's what you told Louis too, isn't it?" Niall said.

Harry froze in his spot, halfway to the bathroom. He knew that Louis would have talked to Liam and Liam would've talked to Niall, but somehow hearing the intimacies of their fight said out loud jarred something in Harry's heart.

"You can't just avoid everything forever," Niall said, more gentle this time.

Harry ignored Niall, and headed to the bathroom, filling the tub up and pouring in too much bubble bath.

He heard the door creak open.

"Jesus Christ, Niall, what do you want?" Harry snapped. He'd spent the past two days with Niall, and those two days had meant falling asleep in the same bed, waking up at the same times, eating meals together, and Niall constantly constantly wanting to talk.

"I was just about to put some laundry in and I thought you might want your hoodie washed? You've been wearing it a few days now." Niall said quietly, wincing a bit at Harry's sharp tone.

Harry sighed, and shrugged out of his hoodie tossing it over to his friend, feeling something flicker inside of him as he took it off.

Déjà vu.

Niall left the bathroom, the door still slightly open, and Harry wriggled out of his sweatpants and into the bubbles. He tried to shake the feeling off, but his mind was playing over the memory like it was projected onto the bathroom wall and Harry couldn't stop himself from slipping into it.

"Louis," Harry whined, his hoodie zipped tightly up as much as it would go, "Just let me keep my sweater on."

Louis raised his eyebrows at Harry.

Louis' sassy face was not to be messed with.

"I'm cold?" Harry tried in vain.

"Take it off, Haz," Louis insisted, hands on his curvy hips as he waited for a response.

"Why?" Harry asked, forming sweater paws with his hoodie.

"Because," Louis said, tugging a little on the zipper. "This is how you want to dress sometimes and that's okay. I like your shirt. And I know you love it, just... no one here knows you. First years never come here, you'll be okay."

Harry sighed, and slowly peeled out of his hoodie and was left in his tissue thin black button down. It was floaty and translucent and unbuttoned all the way down to Harry's ribs, framing off some of his chest tattoos beautifully, and letting the other tattoos on his body peep through the sheer fabric. It was lined at the edges with a pale pink lace trim and it was absolutely nothing like what Harry ever wore to lecture or out in public.

Louis reached into his pocket and pulled out a flower crown.

Harry looked skeptical.

"I know you freaking love these things," Louis said. "If you're not yourself in college, when are you ever going to be?"

"Never," Harry said, crossing his arms across his slightly exposed chest. "I'll just blend in forever and die happy."

"You were not made to blend in, Styles."

Harry reluctantly dipped his head down a little so Louis could nest the subtle flower crown into his curls. It wasn't a bulky crown, just a slim band of white and lavender flowers.

"C'mon," Louis said, "Let's get you a drink."

"What do you like, then?" Louis asked, sitting up on the bar stool. Harry tried to hold back a grin thinking about how much smaller Louis was- Harry's feet were almost touching the ground, while Lou's were off the floor.

"Peach bellini," Harry admitted.

Louis ordered the drinks, and the two sat there with their drinks, Louis with his beer, and Harry's with an adorable mini umbrella.

Louis was three beers in, and Harry was just starting his second drink, both giggling about something Harry had mispronounced. Harry felt like he could skip his ab workouts for the next week with the amount Louis had made him laugh that night; he was blushing and glowing and kept holding onto Louis' biceps because they were firm and they made him feel safe and stable when he felt like he might float away from laughter.

A man sat down next to Harry while he waited for the bartender to come around. He did a double take when he saw Harry, delicate flower crown perched on his carefully brushed curls, bubblegum pink drink held in his long fingers, and his gossy shirt floating over his skin.

Harry looked over at the man, who was clearly more than a little drunk and more than a little bit staring at him. "Um, can I help you?" Harry asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

Louis squeezed Harry's hand, and said quietly, "Let's just go, babe," trying to tug Harry away from the man.

"Sorry, just tryin' to figure out what you are," the guy laughed. "If you were a girl, I might've taken you home."

"Well, I'm a boy," Harry said calmly, "So thank God for that, because I wouldn't want to go anywhere with you."

"What's it with guys these days, always tryin' to look like chicks or somethin'. S'just disgusting," the man slurred. He looked over at Louis, not realizing he was with Harry. "Amiright?" he asked Louis.

Harry looked over at Louis, his mouth frozen, not knowing what to say, but not wanting Louis to get involved in any of this.

Louis grabbed at Harry's thin shirt, pulled him closer and kissed him. Harry's lips parted as soon as they met Louis', and Harry's lips were still cold from his iced drink. Harry's hands rested on his boyfriend's thick thighs and he was squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. He felt like he were a breath away from being knocked over; needed something to hold onto.

Louis pulled away from the kiss and faced the drunken stranger. "If you have a problem with him, you have a problem with me. You don't want to have a fucking problem with me," he said, and taking Harry gently by the wrist, he led him out of the bar.

"Lou, I-" Harry started, tugging his shirt closed so it wouldn't be as revealing. He was about five seconds away from crying.

Louis cut him off with a kiss, his lips warm and insistent against his boyfriend's. Harry parted his lips, and kissed him back, letting Louis steer him against the wall of the building, letting out a little moan when Lou pressed him against the bricks, Louis' hands running all over his body.

Harry whimpered against the brick wall, his skin scraping roughly. "Louis that feels good," he murmured, as Louis ran his hands against Harry's chest.

Louis kissed the crook of Harry's neck, sucking a little lovebite and nipping softly at the warm skin. Harry breaths quickened, and he let out a few breathy moans, his hands tight around Louis' hips.

Louis kissed up to Harry's strong jawline and Harry's breaths were sharper now, his fingernails digging into Louis' sides.

Louis pulled away, looking up at his boyfriend, who had pulled the flower crown off his curls and dropped it onto the pavement.

"I'm so sorry about all that, hun," Louis said, taking Harry's hands in his. "It's alright now, I've got you, okay? What do you need?"

"I'm fine," Harry whispered.

"Let's get a taxi out of here, alright, babe?"

Harry nodded and chewed on his hoodie strings once he's put his sweater back on, a full step behind Louis, holding his hand tightly and being gently tugged along.

"Lou," Harry whispered, "Do you think there's something wrong with me?

"Of course not, Hazza," Louis said, rubbing Harry's back slowly. "Don't listen to what people like that say. They're upset about their own problems, and they see someone happy and expressing themselves and that's who they take things out on, babe. Absolutely nothing wrong with you... not one single thing."

"Why do I like different things then?" Harry asked shyly burying his face in Louis' chest. "Wanna be normal, wanna be normal for you."

"You don't need to be normal, I like you just the way you are- you're special, love," Louis whispered with a smile, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead. "You're so fucking special."

Niall helped Harry out of the bathtub, shuddering and crying.

"C'mon," Niall said, holding Harry steady as he looked around the bathroom for a towel. "You're alright now. I've got you."

"When's the a-a-appointment?" Harry sputtered out, as Niall gently started to dry him off.

"Tomorrow at two," Niall said, wrapping the towel around Harry.

"Okay," Harry said quietly, and leaned against Niall's shoulder. "Okay," he murmured.

A/N: Happy Halloween! I'm really close to the end now, which is exciting :) I saw thing on some stories I've read where at the end of the book, people can comment their questions to characters and then all their questions will be answered. Is anyone interested in doing that? I'd love to, but I'd need to get a decent amount of questions to do a whole Q and A.

Anyway, thanks for sticking with this, and hi to any new readers! :)