Two Months Later

Louis sat at the breakfast bar in the flat he and Harry still shared. He sipped his evening tea and flipped over the newspaper he was reading, smiling to himself at the headline that caught his sight,

One Direction's Louis Tomlinson writes new single alongside band mate Harry Styles!

He folded the paper over and sighed happily. The past two months had been one hell of a whirlwind for him—with Harry going to therapy and getting more accustomed to being in One Direction. However, he loved every single minute of it. He loved the rush of the interviews, the press, the music, and the people he got to see every day.

One of those people being Harry Styles.

He had to admit, although the past two months had been fun, they had also been quite confusing when it came to Harry and their…'relationship.'

The two boys had gotten a lot closer the past two months. But what confused Louis were the lingering looks from the younger boy, and the extra touches he gave him, among other things.

Louis wanted to be with Harry, and while Harry asked him to wait for him, Louis wasn't sure when the waiting would stop, and he was dying to know when he was finally going to be able to do something.

Louis heard the front door handle jiggle and his heart leaped, knowing that the only person who could be coming through the door was—

"Harry!"

Harry pulled his key out of the door and smiled, making sure to close the door behind him as he walked into the kitchen,

"Hey Tommo."

Louis bit back a smile. Ah, the nickname would never get old.

He saw Harry exit the kitchen with an apple and he sat next to Louis at the bar. He took a big bite of the apple and nodded towards the paper,

"Whatcha reading?" Harry asked, his breath dancing across Louis' neck as he read over his shoulder.

"The paper." Louis said smartly.

"Obviously," Harry teased, "What's in the paper this fine evening?"

Louis smirked and showed him the headline, "See for yourself."

Louis handed him the paper and Harry took it out of his hands, smiling as he read the headline.

"Well would you look at that."

"I think we might be famous, or something." Louis teased.

Harry laughed, "Yeah, something like that."

The two shared a soft look, and Louis' lips curved upwards before Harry looked down, ruffling his hair and shifting in his seat.

Louis sighed and sipped his tea, watching Harry out of the corner of his eye. He had so much he wanted to ask Harry, and so many things he wanted to say to him. But he knew he had to wait, and that he couldn't rush things with the boy if he didn't want to him to push away.

Luckily for him, he didn't have to wait much longer.

"…so, today was my last day of therapy."

Louis almost choked on his tea at his words, surprised that Harry had brought up his therapy, as it wasn't something he liked to talk about.

"It...it was?"

Harry nodded and folded his hands on the table, "Yeah, my therapist, Dr. Masdra, thought I should tell you."

"Why would she tell you that?" Louis asked, suddenly feeling his stomach turn over. Harry never spoke of his therapy, or anything about that day two months ago when Harry decided he needed help.

And when Louis told him he loved him.

Harry cleared his throat, "Well, I…I talked a lot about you…in my therapy. And she thought you should be the first to know I don't have to go back anymore."

Louis swallowed thickly and smiled at Harry, who didn't blink as his eyes pierced Louis',

"You talk a lot about me?"

"Yeah." Harry rolled his eyes.

"What did you say about me?"

Harry smirked, "Enough."

Louis rolled his eyes, "And that's all you'll tell me, right?"

Harry nodded, "Obviously."

Louis frowned, but decided not to push, "So what else did you talk about when you were going?"

"Oh, you know…things."

"Like?" Louis asked.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and wrung his hands again, "Like…like how everyone knew Ami was murdered, but they didn't know I was there—that I witnessed everything. How I needed to stop blaming myself," A pause, "How…how I couldn't let something that happened almost a year ago stop me from being happy and getting the things I want…just because I felt like I didn't deserve it."

Louis felt his heart flutter, as those words could only mean one thing,

"And what do you want?"

Harry shrugged and scratched the back of his neck, giving him a knowing look, "I think you know the answer to that question, Louis."

Louis breathed a sigh of relief, and was about to speak when something interrupted him—

RIIIIIIING!

The hell?

RIIIIIIING!

Louis looked at Harry in confusion and the younger boy closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked up, and gave the ceiling a look that almost asked, "why me?" before taking his cell phone out of his pocket,

"Sorry Louis, its Simon. Do you mind…?"

Louis shook his head, "'Course not." Harry nodded and tapped the 'Answer Call' button on his phone.

"Hello?"

Louis watched as Harry got up from his seat and nodded along with whatever Simon was saying, and Louis took the time to ponder what had literally just happened.

Louis had asked what Harry had wanted. And Harry said Louis should know what he wanted. Louis, still trying not to get his hopes up (as they were already high as it is), ran through a list in his head of anything and everything Harry could possibly want that would make him happy—

A #1 album.

A cat.

…two cats.

New hair crème.

A nicer flat.

A car for his mum—

"What?"

Louis' train of thought was broken by the change of Harry's tone. He was staring at Louis with wide eyes now. His face was broken, and the curly haired boy squeezed his eyes shut as Simon continued to talk to him over the phone. He covered his mouth with his hand to hold back a sob that was threatening to escape.

"Are…are you sure it's the right-?"

He was cut off by Simon and Harry began pacing, nodding as Simon continued to talk. Finally, after a few more moments of Harry pacing, he came to an abrupt halt and he stopped dead in his tracks. He took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling, a watery grin appearing on his features,

"This is fucking unbelieva—no, no let—let me tell him," He shot a look to Louis, and then he looked to the floor, clutching the phone tighter in his grasp, "Yeah, okay, sure, thanks, Simon."

Harry took the phone away from his ear and pressed the "End Call" button. He ruffled his hair and sniffed, wiping his moist eyes.

Louis swallowed thickly, not sure if he should comfort Harry, for he again, didn't want to push him away. But yet, he couldn't help but want to cuddle the boy, who was obviously in a state of emotion by whatever Simon had to say.

Louis prepared himself to ask Harry what Simon had said, but Harry beat him to it. His voice was shaky and his chin was quivering as he spoke, his eyes shining with amazement and shock,

"Ami's killers were caught and arrested last night."

The words hit Louis like a bullet—soaring straight into him and piercing his heart. He sucked in a deep breath, dragging a hand down his face and exhaling his breath, letting all of the tension that was built up inside leave him.

Ami's killers were arrested. They were going to get the punishment they deserved for killing Ami Shane.

For killing a musical icon.

For killing a man who was adored by many—and by Harry.

For putting Harry through an emotionally destructive path for the past eleven months.

Louis continued to look into Harry's deep green eyes, and after a few moments of silence, Louis' face broke out into a small smile, his eye illuminating with relief.

…and that's when Harry broke down.

When Harry tried to reciprocate the smile, the tears that were forming in his eyes unwilling began to stream down his face at a rapid pace. At the sight of this, Louis couldn't give a damn about boundaries. He rushed over to Harry and pulled Harry into a tight hug—the closest thing to contact the two boys had had since their talk two months ago.

Louis' arms wrapped around Harry's neck, and he pulled Harry's face into his shoulder. He rubbed his soft hands up and down Harry's back, letting one of his hands trail up into his curls. He caressed his head and rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe him.

Harry immediately melted into Louis' embrace. While Louis' arms slipped around his slender neck, Harry's arms wandered around Louis' midsection, pulling him as close to him as he could. He buried his face into the crook of his neck and he let the tears spill freely onto Louis' striped t-shirt. Every tear that fell was a weight off of the younger boys shoulders, and Louis could tell by the lightness he felt emitting off of him that he was finally letting everything go through his crying.

Louis only gripped the boy tighter, and muttered sweet words into his ear, trying to calm him down, all the while, his mind was buzzing.

Was it horrible and insensitive to think of what the news meant for him and Harry? Probably, but Louis didn't care. While he was extremely elated about the fact that the murderers were no longer on the loose terrorizing and killing people, his mind couldn't stop itself from flashing images of what this could potentially do to the relationship he had with Harry.

They…they could finally be together.

At least, he hoped so.

His stomach dropped at the prospect of Harry having to go back to therapy to deal with the news of the arrest. Louis, by watching Harry go through therapy, understood that different life experiences could cause people to want to talk to someone, which he understood. And he wanted Harry to get better and to be happy. And if he needed therapy to do that, well, Louis would stick by his word and wait for Harry.

But at the same time, Louis wanted to be that person who made Harry happy. He didn't want Harry to have to go back to therapy. He wanted to be the main source of happiness for him. And he didn't want Harry to have to go back to talking to someone he didn't know when he was standing right there waiting for him with open arms.

After a few more sniffs and a clearing of the throat, Harry pulled away from Louis and wiped his eyes,

"I'm—I'm sorry—" He began, pointing to Louis' damp shoulder.

"No, don't be sorry. It's okay. I'd do the same thing if I were you."

Harry nodded and shook his head, "I can't believe it. I just…wow."

"What did Simon say?" Louis asked.

"He said that they were arrested for petty theft of a convenience store," Harry began, "And once they were taken into the police station, and went through questioning, they went through a line up, and one of the officer's noticed that the two guys who killed Ami matched—they matched the description a woman gave the police the night of the murder." He sniffed and wiped his eyes, "And so the officer took them aside and…and they confessed to everything."

Louis sighed gratefully, "Wow. That's great."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, it is. Those fucking bastards are getting what they deserve…and…I don't have to be afraid anymore."

Louis cocked his head to the side in confusion, and Harry continued, "I don't have to be afraid of them coming after me. They don't have to haunt my dreams anymore, with me knowing they'll be behind bars in the most secure prison in the country. I—"

Harry paused as he tried to search his brain for words, and Louis watched him, admiring how much Harry had grown in the past two months.

"I," Harry began again, "I don't have to be afraid of anything anymore…and…and we don't have to be afraid either."

Louis' heart fluttered and he spoke softly, "What do you mean?"

Harry smiled, "What I mean is…you don't have to wait anymore. I…I think I'm ready now. I…I think I have been for a while now. But, now, I don't have to be afraid of someone hurting you because you are with me. I—I planned on telling you this today anyway, but, but then I got the call, and—"

Harry was interrupted by Louis' lips pressed firmly onto his own. At first, Louis was surprised that he had let himself kiss him, after months of holding back every time Harry batted an eyelash. But after the confession, and after hearing the words Louis had been waiting to hear for months, he couldn't find the will to keep himself from kissing him.

It was a few moments before Harry responded, as he had been shocked with the action. He slowly began kissing Louis back.

This wasn't like their kiss two months ago—where there was something missing and Harry was still fragile—this kiss was like a boulder; it was strong, hard and stable. In this kiss, nothing and everything mattered, and the kiss only sealed the missing puzzle pieces that were finally finding their place.

Through all of the shit the two boys had been through—the fighting, the hurt, the pain, the tears, the hate, and the love—they were able to come out of it all in one piece.

Louis only tore his lips apart from Harry's to regain his breath, and when he did so, Harry's eyes fluttered open in a lustful haze.

Louis ran a hand over Harry's hair letting his eyes trace the curves of his face, "Was that too much?" He said breathily, his heart beating a mile a minute.

"No," Harry shook his head, "It was perfect. It was perfect, absolutely perfect. This is perfect. You are perfect…" Harry let his finger trace over Louis' cheekbone before he kissed Louis hard again, pulling back the collar of his t-shirt. Louis gladly gave in, smiling as his lips fit perfectly with Harry's.

They say porcelain, if broken, can never be fixed. It is fragile, and one wrong move or too hard of a touch can knock it into a million pieces, making it forever gone.

Harry Styles was human porcelain—internally shattered by a broken heart and disturbing memories that he thought would never go away. He was thought to be unfixable, and he was left to rot in his own despair and down a dark spiral with no return.

However, with the love of Louis Tomlinson, and his new found way to live his life, Harry proved them all wrong—that porcelain, no matter how shattered, could always be mended.


FIN.