Chapter Eight

"I mean, I don't really get how you can call it breakfast if there's no bacon..." Louis said, stirring his smoothie suspiciously, "But I kinda figured you might like it here."

"Oh my gosh, Lou, it's perfect," Harry said, sipping on his kale pomegranate smoothie.

"Hippie," Lou muttered with a little smirk.

Harry bit his lip and smiled shyly.

"So are we going to talk about last night or-?" Louis started.

"I have class soon," Harry mumbled.

"You have class in an hour, that's plenty of time to at least talk things over a little bit," Louis said.

"Do we have to?" Harry asked, sipping at his dark purple smoothie and chewing on the straw absentmindedly.

Louis looked over at Harry, who was snuggled up in a thick burgundy hoodie with the college crest on the chest. He looked peaceful, if a little tired, and Louis almost felt bad about wanting to push him into talking about things if he wasn't fully ready.

"You always do that," Louis said, twisting a napkin in his hands. "You tell me so much when you're having an anxiety attack but then you won't tell me anything when you're doing okay. I don't want to pretend the things you say when you're panicked never happened." Louis brought his legs up so he could sit cross legged in the booth, trying to get comfy against the worn-in green leather. He raised his curved eyebrows at Harry, waiting for a response, a little nervous he was asking too much.

"Okay," Harry said slowly, "Okay, that's fair. What did you... what did you want to talk about first?"

Louis wanted to talk about how Harry had admitted to having feelings for him, wanted to ask him to repeat it again and again so the words could skim across his skin like little whispers brushing up against him. But he knew that wasn't the best place to start, so he bit his cheek a little to try and hold it in a little longer. "I think it would be healthy to talk about your breakup," Louis said, even though just hearing the name Cameron made him want to simultaneously punch a hole in the wall and sob into a carton of ice cream.

"What did you want to know?" Harry asked. His guard was up- as much as he had said he was okay to talk to Louis, it was clear that he was going to talk with a brick wall around him.

Louis sighed a little, he didn't want to have to drag every word out of Harry, he just wanted to have a conversation, not an interview. "Have you talked to him at all since he said he wanted a break?" Louis asked.

"He's been ignoring my texts actually," Harry said, his voice a little bitter around the edges. He looked up at Louis with his eyes blazing green. "He told me he didn't want to talk to me anymore. That's what happens when people get too close to me, Lou."

"Oh so that's why you try and bottle everything up and hide it from me?" Louis challenged. "That's a pretty shitty reason, Hazza." He was trying not to get worked up, but he was frustrated trying to get Harry to talk.

"He said I'm too much to handle, okay?" Harry said, his voice a little shaky. "He's the only person that knew me that well, that much and he didn't like it, he didn't want me."

Louis felt like bruises were being pressed into his skin with every word Harry spoke- it ached just to listen to.

"He said he loved me from the moment he met me, Lou. We were together for almost three years and now he doesn't even want to talk to me anymore, doesn't even want to reply when I tell him I'm feeling panicked and won't even answer when I ask him how his day was." Harry huffed out a breath, like all these little tensions had gathered and settled into his lungs.

"Well," Louis said, trying to think of the best way to respond. "Some people need space, and maybe he's not going about it the right way, but you have me, and you have your friend Niall, and your sister, and we're all here to talk to, I know it's a little much to get used to, but you'll be okay without talking to him, I promise."

"You don't get it," Harry muttered. He looked distant, and he twirled his ring around his finger like he were trying to figure out a pass-code.

"What don't I get exactly?" Louis asked. "People get broken up with all the time, it doesn't mean they're unlovable."

"This is different."

"Different how?"

"Because he said it was love at first sight!" Harry replied, his green eyes insistent now, trying to get Louis to understand what he was seeing. "He was literally in love with me to begin with and getting to know more and more about me made him fall out of love with me- the more he got to know me the more he didn't like me."

"So you think if you just try and keep parts of yourself hidden from me, that you can... you can stretch it out longer this time? That it'll take longer for me to leave you?"

Harry nodded, and all Louis wanted to do was take Harry in his arms and kiss him on the forehead, smooth back his soft curls and whisper sweet nothings until he fell asleep again- wanted to protect him from ever having to feel this way. Louis wanted to touch him so bad- his fingertips ached to connect with Harry's skin- so Lou reached his hand across the table and gently ran his fingers over Harry's knuckles. "No offense, but that's the most fucking ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Harry's lips curved into a faint smile, and he closed his eyes for a moment and nodded reluctantly, trying to agree with Louis, trying to understand that this was something he's just built up in his mind.

"I want to know more about you, Haz. I don't like it when you're all closed off from me. You can tell me anything any time, not just when you're panicking and let your guard down."

Louis could swear Harry was blushing. "Thank you," he murmured.

"If you need to talk about him at all, I'm always here," Louis added. One of Louis' biggest problems with relationships was always jealousy- he hated talking about exes, hated knowing that the person had been someone else's before they were Louis'- but with Harry it wasn't about that. With Harry, Louis managed to put the pettiness aside and really think about what was best for Harry, what was healthiest, what would keep him feeling comfortable... safe.

"I just-" Harry started, then sighed. "I just think I've known this was coming for months... almost half a year really. I think my brain's had lots of time to process it already." He gave a weak half smile before he continued. "I mean, we were barely talking anymore towards the end anyway. We started fighting when I first got accepted to college."

"Oh?" Louis said, raising his eyebrows. "Because of the long distance?"

"No, um," Harry said, staring down at his drink, stirring the last little bit with his straw. "He didn't think, um, he didn't think I could be a psychologist when I have my own, my own problems like I do."

Louis' eyes popped wide. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "What a fucking loser- that's just, that's just," Louis huffed out a loud breath and clenched his jaw. "If anyone ever tells you that again, let me know and I swear to God-"

"Lou," Harry said. "It's not a big deal, I mean, he's kind of right."

"He's not- he's not- Jesus Christ, Harry Edward Styles, you take that back right now."

"How do you know my middle name?" Harry asked, his eyes squinting in suspicion.

"I had to sort through everyone's housing forms," Louis shrugged. "Took hours. Alphabetized, checked for forged signatures... you're missing the point, Harold."

"And the point is...?"

"You can have anxiety and be a therapist, if anything it would make you better at your job if you understand some of what they've been through." Louis said, trying to calm his voice down a little. They were the only ones in the tiny cafe, other than the bored looking barista, and they were tucked into a corner booth, but Louis didn't like raising his voice around Harry.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled.

"I mean, Lord knows I'm too opinionated to be a journalist, but I'm gonna try anyway," Louis added with a smirk.

Harry smiled a little, before continuing. "I think Cam was just a little mad because he didn't want to go to college, and he thought we would move in together or something after school." Harry reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out his phone, checking the time.

"Well thank God you didn't," Louis said softly.

Harry smiled, setting his phone down.

"Do you have plans for reading week?" Louis asked, it felt like Harry had gotten everything off his chest that he needed to.

"Um, I was going to go home but only for a few days- I have some essays due right after the break and I think I'll be too distracted to do them at home. Why?" Harry added.

"Oh, you remember Liam, right? From the coffeehouse?"

Harry nodded.

"He's having this thing, and I was wondering if you wanted to come?"

"A thing?" Harry asked. "Like what sort of thing? Like an orgy or a tea party or a rave or stamp collecting meeting? Be a little more specific, Louis- what's gonna happen when you become a journalist? No one will understand your articles." Harry was pretending to be serious as he said it, but he couldn't help but laugh a little and Louis' whole face lit up as he laughed along.

"It's a bonfire, Haz," he smiled, his eyes crinkling a little around the corners. "Just me and Liam and a couple of the lads, and hopefully you...? I don't know how you are with parties, but if they make you uncomfortable, you don't have to come. It's just a get together, really," Louis said, "Nothing too wild, less than twenty people for sure... Liam offered up his room for you as like a safe space if you ever get overwhelmed and need a break from the people."

"Wow... that sounds really lovely actually," Harry said. "I'm taking the train to go back to visit my mum on the Sunday and coming back that Thursday night- what day were you having it?"

"The last Friday night of class before the break," Louis smiled. "So exactly a week from now. Are you okay with the amount of people though? I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

"I'm usually okay at these things," Harry said. "I'll be fine."

"Can I ask you a question?" Louis asked, wanting to ask Harry one more thing in case his walls went up again.

"Mhm," Harry nodded.

"Do you know what triggers your panic attacks, like, generally?"

"I think it's mostly just emotions that, like, build," Harry said, trying to explain. "Like it's not usually situations, it's usually feelings. Like when I felt overwhelmed when I got here the first day, that day was just a lot for me. It's usually that sort of thing. Sometimes the whole world just feels too loud, you know?...Do you think I'm crazy?" Harry asked.

"I think you're perfect," Louis said gently before he realized he'd said that out loud. He cleared his throat a little. "I think you just have a different way of handling things, love. I don't know if this is too personal," he added, "but there's lots of good free counselling on campus, and I can easily set you up with someone if you want me to."

"I actually already do that," Harry said. "Wednesday mornings with Deborah." He smiled faintly. "Not that it seems to be helping, but you know, I feel like I have to at least be trying."

"That's amazing," Louis said, still running his thumb gently across the bumps of Harry's knuckles. Harry's hands were large and calloused from guitar, and flecked with small tattoos around his fingers... tiny crosses and little words.

Harry checked his phone again, "I have to get to class soon."

"Did you want me to walk you?" Louis asked.

"I can make it to my lectures on my own, Lou, I'm not that incompetent with directions." Harry said, conveniently neglecting to mention the time last week when he'd gone to a lecture hall on the complete opposite side of campus.

But Louis walked him anyway, insisting on carrying his books as they walked, teasing giggles out of Harry the whole way across campus with sly little jokes that Harry couldn't remember anymore but made his cheeks burn from laughing at the time.

And that night, when the whole floor was silent, and the whole Earth fell silent- to the point where it might have even stopped spinning entirely- Harry slipped out of bed, his fuzziest blanket wrapped around him like a tangled cape, soundlessly passing by his roommate, and down the hall.

He knocked softly at Louis' door, hoping he'd still be up, knowing Lou had confessed one time that he liked to stay up with a good book until his eyes were blurring, falling asleep with his glasses on and the lamp shining down on his bed like a small, contained sunbeam.

Sure enough, Louis answered the door, his glasses a little crooked on his nose, a paperback in hand. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

"I'm okay," Harry replied, and Louis locked the door behind them, and crawled back into bed, setting his glasses on his desk alongside his book.

"Mmm come here then," Louis said softly, and slipped under the covers, lifting them up for Harry to slide under.

Harry snuggled against Louis' chest, breathing in the lingering scent of his soap and his cologne, his thoughts muddling as he nuzzled closer to Louis, until there weren't any more spaces left to close. Harry was already being pulled under when he heard Louis' faint whisper of 'goodnight, love'. He tried to say goodnight back to Louis, but it just came out in jumbled little murmurs.

"It's okay, love, you can tell me tomorrow," Louis whispered, smoothing Harry's curls away from his forehead.

And he slipped peacefully into a warm and gentle rest, feeling safe, feeling comforted... feeling loved.