Chapter Seven

**Trigger Warning: Panic Attack; (very brief) mentions of Self Harm**

"Is he breaking up with me?" Harry asked, gasping for air.

"Shhh..." Louis murmured, steering Harry into his room. "Shhh, Hazza, I'm right here."

"Does taking a break mean breaking up?" Harry asked frantically. He sat down on Louis' bed and looked up at him with pleading eyes.

Louis nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... but he's probably just letting you down gently."

"No," Harry whined, running his fingers through his hair rough enough that Louis worried he'd tear a few strands out.

"Don't hurt yourself, love," Louis murmured, grabbing Harry's hands gently.

Harry cried like the world was ending.

"But I want to," Harry cried, trying to shake out of Lou's firm grasp.

"No," Louis said, trying to make eye contact with the younger boy, but Harry's eyes were flitting around the room.

"It's your fault, it's your fault, I hate you," Harry said. "I hate you so much." He sobbed, trying desperately to get his hands free from Louis.

Louis felt an ache in his chest and he held tight to Harry's wrists. Lou wanted to leave, wanted to curl up somewhere and talk to Liam, talk to someone, he couldn't handle hearing those words from Harry. But he had to be the strong one this time.

Louis let go of Harry's wrists, but Harry immediately started digging his nails into his skin.

"Please don't do that, love," Louis said softly.

Harry looked up at him, his eyes wide and scared, but he didn't stop, his nails dug angry scratch marks onto his pale skin.

Louis took Harry's hands in his.

"Louis, Louis, I need to," Harry whimpered. "I need it, Lou, please let go I need to I need it, I'm just scared, I'm so scared," he whispered.

Harry leaned into Louis, crying against his chest and Lou reluctantly let go of Harry's wrists. Harry didn't try and scratch himself anymore, just latched onto Louis, so tight it was as if they were on the precipice of a cliff and not tucked safely in a musty old dorm room.

"I know, love," Louis murmured, "I know it's scary. But you're not allowed to hurt yourself, okay?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, keep it from trembling. "You haven't... you aren't...? Have you been doing anything else to hurt yourself?" He choked out.

Before the first years had moved in for the year, every RA had gone through a week long training session on how to deal with conflicts- how to deal with stress, and how to deal with mental illnesses- to be prepared to help the students on their floor. Louis had paid careful attention and made deliberate notes, taking care to never let his mind drift for a second, knowing it could be important someday. But he never thought he'd be in the situation where it came down to him... where it came down to someone clinging onto him like a life-raft, whimpering his name like his words had the power to do something... like Louis had the power to heal this.

"No," Harry sobbed, his body wracked with the emotion, pressing against Lou, sniffling against Louis' soft grey shirt. "I haven't done, haven't done that in two years, I don't want to do that I just want everything to stop hurting. Please make it stop."

Harry was trembling like a leaf and Louis held on tightly, rubbing circles onto his back.

"Okay, shh, it's okay," Louis murmured.

"It's not okay," Harry moaned. He was shuddering against Lou's body, heaving with his unstable breaths and thick sobs. "He said he loved me, no one loves me anymore, Lou, was he lying? Was he lying to me?"

Louis didn't even know how to respond to the words 'no one loves me' when everything about Harry was just bursting full of life and so so deserving of love.

Harry was taller and broader than Louis by a lot, but he curled into Louis like a child, long limbs swallowed up in his over-sized jumper, and clutching onto Louis' chest- hiding. Lou's heart twinged at the thought of someone so full of life trying to hide, trying to make themselves smaller.

"It's your fault," Harry sobbed again. "I hate you. He wouldn't have left me if I never met you."

"Shh," Louis murmured, his lips brushing against Harry's tangled curls. He knew from years of helping his sister with her anxiety that sometimes people who got panic attacks built up reasons in their heads for why things happened to them- and even if it wasn't logical to anyone else, it could make perfect sense to them. "What did I do to you, love?" Louis asked gently. "Tell me why it's my fault, Haz, and I'll fix it okay? It's alright."

Harry sniffled and wiped his nose on his jumper sleeve. He unlatched himself from Lou's chest to try and make eye contact with him while he talked.

Louis could see in the harsh lamplight how red rimmed and puffy Harry's eyes were, making the green leap out in contrast.

"I..." Harry started before his words choked out. "I can't say it," he whispered. "It's embarrassing."

"Don't be embarrassed, love," Louis murmured. He took Harry's hands in his and gently slipped his fingers under the hem of Harry's sleeves to try and rub soothing patterns into the angry scratch marks. He wondered if Harry was okay with the pet names, but he hadn't stopped him so far, and Louis didn't want to stop... he loved the way they felt like honey on his tongue. Harry's name was beautiful, but everyone got to call him that. Louis wanted something all to himself, little names that felt warm in his mouth, that felt soft against his lips.

Harry had stopped sobbing by this point, but his eyes were still shiny with tears. "I," he started again, "I think you're..." his eyes were watering. "I think you're really..." Harry was taking shallow breaths and he wasn't looking at Louis anymore.

Louis was torn between wanting to know what Harry was going to say and not wanting to cause him any more anxiety. "It's okay," he whispered. "Whatever it is, Harry, it's alright, I'm right here with you now."

"I had a crush on you," Harry said. The words tumbled out ungracefully. Brash. Abrupt.

Lou's eyes widened a bit, but he waited to see if Harry was going to elaborate.

"I just," Harry said, his voice raspy from crying. "I just thought you were really, really attractive, Lou, and you looked really fucking good when you were getting changed- I accidentally looked- and then you could sing and you're the only one who knows how to deal with me, and it's hard here, Lou, everything's so different, but you were here and you were here and everything was-" Harry was speaking a lot faster now, and a strong blush had risen to his cheeks. "Everything was better with you," he finished, his voice barely a whisper.

Every part of Louis wanted to kiss Harry.

His eyes wanted to see Harry's lashes flick closed against his pale skin as his green eyes went heavy lidded.

His fingers wanted to trace along Harry's collarbones, paint every tattoo with the pads of his fingers, even the bad ones, even the ones Niall had messed up on.

His lungs wanted to forget how to function, wanted to lose sight of even the basics of staying alive because he was more important, until Louis was gasping for breath because staying alive was just an afterthought compared to having those lips melt into his.

And his lips, Louis' lips ached to be pressed against Harry's cherry stained lips.

"You like me?" Louis asked, his voice was gentle, like he was worried if he spoke too loudly, he might scare the green eyed boy away.

Harry nodded, looking at Louis with wide eyes.

"Well," Louis said carefully, "I guess that means it's mutual."

Harry bit his lower lip, flushing it red.

If it were anyone else, Louis would have kissed them then and there. Then again, if it were anyone else Louis probably would have gone home with them about an hour after they'd met. But it was Harry and he was different... delicate.

"What are you thinking about, love?" Louis asked softly.

"I like pet names," Harry replied, curling up tighter into his sweater. "Can you use them more?"

"Mhm," Louis said, reaching to check the time on his phone. "It's four in the morning hun, are you okay to go back to your room?"

Harry shook his head.

"Did you want to talk about... about anything?" Louis asked.

"Can we just talk tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Louis said.

"Can I... can I stay here tonight?" Harry asked shyly.

"Yeah," Louis said, without thinking it through at all. If he let himself think about it, he knew he'd just hear Liam's voice telling him how he needed to stop things with Harry from going to far.

This was probably too far.

Louis lifted up the covers, and Harry slid under them. He curled up to Lou's chest, and Louis gently rubbed Harry's back and made shhhh sounds until his breathing slowed and his hands relaxed onto Lou's chest.

"Goodnight, princess," Louis whispered, his lips tugging up into a smile. The words 'it's mutual' ran through his dreams as he promptly fell into a deep sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louis woke up with a slight moment of panic, feeling a heavy weight on his chest and not remembering why. His eyes jolted open to see Harry's curls splayed across his chest, his lavender jumper standing out against Louis' neutral sheets.

Harry was still sleeping, but he started to stir awake as soon as Louis' breathing pattern shifted.

"Good morning," Harry mumbled, his face still buried in Lou's shirt.

"Morning," Louis said with a smile.

"What day is it?" Harry mumbled, tugging the blankets tighter around him.

"It's Friday, love," Louis said, his hand resting on the small of Harry's back.

"Fuck," he muttered. "I have class today."

"You have class on a Friday?" Louis asked. "What, did you make your schedule blindfolded or something?"

"Noooo , there was this psych elective that looked really good, mmmm starts at 9:30, Lou, what time is it?"

"It's only eight something," Louis said, glancing at his phone. "Don't worry I'll get you to Friday morning class on time," he smirked. "You dork."

Harry tried to grab onto more blankets but Louis pulled them away from him.

"If you get too comfortable you'll just fall asleep again," Louis said.

"But I'm tired, Lou," Harry whined.

"Well my job is literally making sure you do well in school, so get up," Louis said, tugging the rest of the covers off Harry. "Go brush your teeth, get your books and meet me outside okay?" Louis said.

Harry grumbled, still trying to cling to Louis.

"I mean it," Louis said, trying to sound more serious. "I'm not letting you skip class, Hazza."

"Fine..." Harry mumbled, reluctantly getting up from Louis' bed.

"Meet you in ten?" Louis asked.

"Jesus, Lou," Harry said, "Some of us actually have a morning routine to attend to."

"Oh my God, Harold, you can skip the sun salutations for one day, just brush your teeth and meet me at the benches okay? I want to take you for breakfast."

"The caf food is disgusting," Harry said.

"We're not going to the caf," Louis said, rolling his eyes a little at the idea. All the cafeteria was good for were tater tots, browning apple slices, and watery scrambled eggs- none of which seemed like good breakfast options.

Harry nodded and headed toward the door.

Louis' eyes were drawn down to Harry's bare feet, the toes painted a pale bubblegum pink.

"Did you do that?" Louis asked incredulously, gesturing toward his feet. It looked as shiny and meticulous as when his mother came back from a pedicure and Louis was in awe at the idea that Harry could do that himself without making a huge mess of the polish like Lou would.

Harry flinched a little and Louis realized he probably shouldn't have brought it up.

"I used to paint my sister's toes all the time and I could never get it to actually just stay on her nails, I always got it all over her skin," he laughed a little to himself. "Yours look like, like a legit pedicure. I'm impressed."

"So you don't think it's weird?" Harry asked, his eyes still half closed from sleep, but narrowing a little further in suspicion.

"Of course not," Louis said. "Suits you."

Harry smiled softly, beaming a little.

Louis knew he probably never got compliments on them, and part of him twinged in sympathy. Harry shouldn't just be hearing these things from Louis.

When Harry left, slipping quietly out of Lou's room, Louis turned his attention to his dresser, fumbling through the drawers for something to wear. He didn't realize until he held up an old Radiohead shirt to check for stains that his hands were shaking a little bit.

He didn't know what was going to happen. Normally, Lou thrived on challenges and spontaneity and short cuts that left him in the wrong direction and bad choices that turned into good stories- but Harry made him want to do everything properly, delicately. Another part of him wanted to be anything but delicate, wanted to grab Harry by the wrist, pull him back into the room and press him against the wall until his lips parted in a moan.

Louis changed quickly and slipped into the communal bathroom to brush his teeth.

He knew he was supposed to be the stable one here, but he felt a little unsteady, like everything had tipped off balance a little since last night.

It was mutual.