Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s not like he was always completely miserable. Not all of his 22 years were torturous. Louis had lived a decent life. Spectacular, even. But it was all in vain. He would always tell himself that he was happy, because he should’ve been. Louis had everything: a loving family, more friends than he could count, a successful career he loved, all the newest clothes and cars and whatever his heart desired, millions of dollars, and even more fans who adored him. But what he didn’t have made all of that pale in comparison. He didn’t have chocolate curls or emerald eyes. He didn’t have rose petal lips or velvet-soft, porcelain skin that went on for miles. He didn’t have long slender limbs or elegant tattoos inked on his beautiful skin. He didn’t have the love of his life. Well, he did at one point. But he fucked it up, like he fucked everything up.

He and Harry were drawn to each other from the start. From that first shared glance at bootcamp, the way they just gravitated towards each other even though they were total strangers. Louis fell for Harry as soon as those beautiful green eyes glittered in his direction, lit up to match the radiant, excited smile on his angel face. He really was gorgeous, like he was molded from the gods themselves. He probably was, knowing Harry.

By some miracle, or maybe some sick twist of fate, Louis was put into a band with Harry and three other of the most amazing people in the world. And they really were amazing: Liam was the single most kindhearted and genuine soul he’s ever met; Zayn was the smartest and most understanding while being simultaneously drop-dead gorgeous; Niall was just such a carefree boy loved life more than anyone; and Harry was the most beautiful person to ever exist on earth, with his ability to charm everyone and his heart of gold, his contagious laugh and his starry eyes. Louis had never known anyone who was better than these boys. His boys, as he came to know them. They were all amazing, and Louis was Louis: dark cloud that put a damper on everything, always more of a burden than a help. To this day he doesn’t understand why Harry could ever want him. Harry was everything Louis wanted but nothing he deserved.

They became fast friends during the X Factor, and even faster lovers. The line between friends and something more was constantly blurred, if it was even there. It was like a mirage between the two of them. They didn’t have any boundaries and didn’t see the point in trying to hold anything back, young and foolishly in love. How naïve they were.

When the whole X Factor experience was over, somehow things got even better. Louis and Harry moved in together in their own flat in London. Each day in the flat went the same: the boys had laughter on their lips and happiness shining in their eyes, except when they were clouded with want. Those nights full of passion and hunger for each other were some of the best memories Louis has to date. They spent every day living their dream, recording and touring and they had three successful albums. Louis never understood how he could have been so lucky. Everything was perfect, so naturally Louis panicked, waiting for something to come and taint his life.

That something wasn’t specific, just a lot of things built up; higher and higher they piled up on his chest until Louis was struggling to breathe. He wanted to hold Harry’s hand more than just behind closed doors. He wanted to kiss Harry when they walked down the streets. He wanted to show off the beautiful, magnificent boy that was his. But he couldn’t. People were ashamed of him again. Louis was used to that feeling, but he had forgotten what it felt like. It had been boxed off and put into one of the highest shelves in his brain, from when his father had left him and when his mother spent every waking moment being disappointed by him. He did poorly in school, couldn’t hold a job for more than a week, and never had a relationship that lasted more than a few days.

Louis was used to letting down his friends and his family, but he couldn't let down these boys who deserved this life more than anyone. So he did the only thing he could: he took management’s offer of a fake girlfriend. She was nice, but every time Louis looked at her he could only think of green eyes and messy curls. Every touch, every kiss, every look killed him. Louis thought that he could pull off acting pleased to be with her. He prided himself on his acting, after all. But when he saw that fans saw right through him, it was like a punch in the gut. He was supposed to be fooling everyone but the only one he was fooling was himself. Acting was the one thing he thought he could do right, and apparently he did a terrible job of it.

He slowly started hating himself more and more. Louis needed an outlet to get some of the pain out. He didn’t deserve anything he had, not his flat, his car, his money, and especially not his boy. All he deserved was pain. So that’s what he gave himself. Louis started distancing himself from Harry. Harry deserved better, and he was everything anyone could ever want, he could easily move on. Louis thought about himself, about his absent father-figure in his life, his trashed relationships, and how he paled in comparison to his favorite boys. They deserved the world, not Louis. They could easily do it without Louis. He just harmonized in the background of their songs and stood off to the side in their photoshoots. Louis wasn't a necessary piece.

Not only had distancing himself from Harry hurt, but it had upset Harry as well. Louis thought that he did it wrong and cursed himself for causing Harry pain. So Louis did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed the razor off the bathroom sink and looked at himself in the mirror. A shell of a person looked back at him. He shivered and pressed the cool blade to the soft skin at the crease of his elbow. It glided effortlessly against his arm, and red spotted up in lines against his tan skin. He released the breath he had been holding in. It felt good to take out his frustration and to finally give himself what he truly deserved. Louis continued down his arm until he reached his wrist, and when that wasn’t enough he started on his thighs. A sick satisfaction spread through Louis’ stomach like the blood spread on his arms and legs.

The day after that, Louis’ body had a pleasant, dull sting. It was a constant reminder of what he deserved, what he knew he should’ve gotten all along. But the sting faded in a few days, as did the soothing red marks on his skin. So the next week he engraved more on himself, but this time was different. This time Zayn had walked in the bathroom just as Louis began to press the razor into his forearm. Louis should’ve felt panic, but he only felt a heavy sense of anticipation. Zayn’s eyes were sad as he came closer and carefully removed the blade without saying anything. Then he sat down beside Louis and let out a deep breath. Louis’ face was carefully blank as he waited for Zayn to speak.

“Lou, what’re you doing?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to try it. I don’t know what I was thinking, sorry. Won’t happen again.”

Zayn gave him a sharp look.

“I mean it. I promise never to do it again.”

Louis heard Zayn sigh a few moments later.

“Alright, never again. Please. Just come to me next time, Lou. You know I’m here for you.”

“I know.” Louis spoke quietly.

“Okay. I love you man.”

“Love you too.”

Zayn got up and left, and Louis was reminded of how grateful he was for Zayn. Zayn never pushed too hard and got his point across as simply as possible. Zayn trusted him, and that was the end of it. Louis wasn’t going to betray Zayn’s trust. He never cut again after that.

Since his release had been taken away from him, Louis had to find other ways to forget. He had to forget about how awful he was and how much the pressure was getting to him, even though he vowed that he wouldn’t let that happen. The boys all made promises to each other that night at the bungalow that they wouldn’t let the pressure affect them, and they all kept their end. Of course they did, but Louis didn’t. As always, Louis was the disappointment. He had taken up drinking to let himself live in a painless world, a different place where he could blissfully forget everything. Every night he would drink himself into oblivion and every morning he would wake up with a killer hangover. Louis had become used to pain, so the hangover was almost welcome.

Harry and he had successfully faded out, grew further and further apart as he intended. Somehow he managed to bypass all of Harry’s texts and calls and come up with some pacifying excuses. One night Harry came to his hotel room, desperate to talk to him to see what was going on. Louis was beginning to get drunk when Harry showed up at his door. As soon as he opened it, he tried to close it just as soon. But Harry pushed his way in.

“Lou, did I do something wrong?”

Louis winced at the familiar nickname and the fact that Harry had taken this upon himself. Selfless bastard.

“No, no. Um.” He had to stop to clear his throat roughly. “I just thought it would be better this way.”

Harry’s brow furrowed adorably. Louis wanted to kiss his forehead so it would smooth out. No, nope, Louis was not going to think of him that way anymore.

“Better what way?”

“You know, better if we were. Not. Not together.”

Harry recoiled like he had been slapped.

“What? Louis. I love you. I need you. What did I do? I’m sorry, I can fix it. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please.”

Louis wanted to throw up. It looked like he had to summon up what he could of that acting experience.

“Harry, you don’t need me. And you didn’t do anything. I’ve just… Moved on, and you should too.”

If Louis thought Harry’s face was pained before, now it was excruciating. Louis really wanted to throw up.

“You… You’ve moved on.” Harry sounded like he was testing the words out, seeing if they fit. They didn’t, but Louis nodded anyway. He had to, there was no other way.

“I don’t understand… What- What brought this on? I told you I’ll do anything to fix it. I swear.”

Louis really hated himself for what he had to do. His stomach churned as he opened his mouth.

“No, Harry. You can’t fix it. There was nothing to fix. We’ve always been a meaningless thing. Just two kids having fun. I thought you knew that. I’m sorry that you thought it was different. I think it should end now though.”

“Louis.” Harry’s voice was trembling and his eyes shined with unshed tears.

Louis looked back at Harry evenly. He fixed a cold stare on Harry’s face. After a few minutes, Harry swallowed and nodded. He looked down at his hands, balled into fists at his sides.

“If that’s what you really want. Sorry for being so stupid.” He laughed humorlessly. “And I’m sorry for thinking that you ever loved me. I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid.”

Louis had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat. He didn’t know what was worse, having to lie to Harry or having Harry believe him so easily. He didn’t even question Louis about all the times Louis told Harry he loved him or any of the intimate moments they had.

“It’s what I want.”

Harry nodded to himself again and sniffed. He took in a shaky breath before meeting Louis’ eyes one last time.

“Okay. I guess I have to respect that then.” His eyes roved down Louis’ body before coming back up to his eyes again.

“Goodbye, Louis.”

Louis forced himself to keep looking into Harry’s eyes, feeling himself be ripped apart with each passing second.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

Harry choked out a sob and quickly turned on his heel. Louis watched him reach the door in a few short paces before it closed softly. As soon as the footsteps down the hall faded, Louis walked into his little hotel kitchen and grabbed the bottle of vodka he left sitting on the counter. He slid down the cabinets until he was sitting flat on the floor, clutching his bottle of vodka and keeping his expression passive. He slowly lifted the bottle to his lips with a shaky hand and drank. Louis spent the rest of the night drinking from that bottle and not crying before he passed out right there on the kitchen floor.

The rest of the tour was agonizing. Harry didn’t speak a word to Louis, didn’t even meet his eyes once. The other boys were left confused for only a few days before Louis thinks Harry explained the whole situation to them. After that, they all sent him harsh glares and didn’t speak to him much. Louis was happy with that in a sick way. It was what he deserved.

The tour ended in late November. It was the last tour they took together before taking a year-long break they had decided on a while ago. Louis was thankful for the break because it presented him with the opportunity he had been waiting for. He arrived home and got a shitty flat of his own so he wouldn’t have to live with Harry anymore. By the time he had settled in it was already one week till Christmas. His phone died and he never bothered recharging it. Louis didn’t have much to do to kill time besides sitting on the floor drinking while he stared at the wall, seeing nothing. He lost track of night and day, just lapsing in and out of consciousness randomly. He ate when he was hungry, which was maybe once per day. He noticed himself getting thinner but didn’t really care.

It must have been a week later, because he started getting loads of mail. When he opened it all, he realized that it was his birthday. He received about a dozen cards from the odd relative, purely out of politeness and obligation than actually wishing him a happy birthday. But that was okay, Louis was used to being just another thing on people’s list of things they had to take care of.

“Happy birthday!” all his cards screamed, trying to force their vibrant colors down his throat, suffocating him. It’s his birthday, and he’s alone in his shitty little flat. At least all the people who love me are here to celebrate with me, Louis thinks mockingly. But this is the way he wanted it, the way it should have been. He pushed away all the friends he had and made their lives better by removing himself from them. Too many years were spent without a choice, but now that he’s 22, a choice has presented itself. Now he can decide for himself, only he doesn’t need to decide. It seemed foolish to choose anything other than what he had intended for what feels like years now.

With a flicker of an idea in his head, Louis sat down with some old newspaper and red markers. He had a plan in mind, and when Louis had a plan in mind, he stuck to it no matter what. He began folding the newspapers into rectangles, writing on them with his markers. A few minutes later, all his birthday cards are in the trash and now in their place stand “Happy death day!” arranged on the table. And it would be, a happy death day that is. His birthday was never going to be happy, so why not replace it with something that would make everyone happy. Louis knew it was ridiculous and dramatic and over the top, but he had always been told that he was those things, so he decided to go all out for this one. This would be a Louis Tomlinson production to be remembered.

He decided to go with the classic letters, writing one for each and every one of the people he loved. He wrote one for Liam, Niall, Zayn, his mom, each of his sisters, his few friends from Doncaster, and the friends he made along the way of traveling the world. But most importantly, he wrote one for Harry. Harry, who he loved so much it ripped him apart from the inside out. His love for Harry consumed him so much that he couldn’t cope. He couldn’t have Harry simply because he didn’t deserve him, and if he couldn’t have Harry there was no point to his life.

Louis put all the notes on the counter so that someone would find them eventually. He put Harry’s on the very top. He went to the bathroom and calmly started up a bath. He made the water as cold as possible. He slowly undressed and stepped into the tub, ignoring the chill it sent up his spine. Louis sunk into the tub until he was as deep as he could get. In his letter he apologized to Zayn for breaking that promise he made months ago, but now he took out a razor and slit his wrists the deepest he ever had, until blood was pouring out of his veins and into the cold water. He thought he heard a door slam faintly, but he couldn’t be sure. Then he heard a panicked call of his name. It grew louder and louder and when he realized who it was he smiled.

The life was draining out almost as quickly as the blood as he laid back. He heard his name screamed out in a way that chilled him more than the freezing water ever could and looked up to see the door bouncing off the wall and Harry standing in front of him, falling to his knees and shouting Louis’ name over and over. He frantically pulled out his phone and called someone. Louis’ not sure who, probably the police. He doesn’t care. He was becoming lightheaded and the room was beginning to spin. Harry grabbed his hand and continued chanting his name; over and over he called “Louis” through his endless wave of tears. His body was wracked with sobs as he rocked back and forth, clutching at Louis’ fragile hand. His fingers were pressed into the wound in Louis’ wrist, trying to stop the flow of blood. But there was too much. Soon Louis gathered that men were pouring into his bathroom, and that the pressure on his wrist had disappeared. Harry was being dragged away from his side, thrashing and yelling in some paramedic’s arms. It took three men to get him out of the room and they began to flock around Louis. He feels himself slipping, falling deeper and deeper towards unconsciousness. The last sound Louis hears is Harry screaming “I love you” as he’s forced into the doorway of Louis' bathroom. Suddenly Louis feels himself come back a bit. He raises his head to meet Harry's intense gaze. He makes his voice as loud as possible as he shouts across the small room to Harry, making sure he can hear him over the commotion of the paramedics.

"I love you, too, Harry."

Chapter Text

Harry,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for distancing myself from you instead of being brave and telling you the truth. I’m sorry for taking it farther and lying to you that night you came to my hotel room. I lied to you about what we were. You mean the world to me, and I’ve been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you. I love you so fucking much that it suffocates me. I can’t breathe because every breath I take smells like you. I can’t sleep because every dream I have is of you. I can’t be without you. That’s why I’m leaving. I love you more than anything, and it’s too much for me knowing that I can never have you. It’s selfish, I know. I’m so fucking selfish and such a coward. I don’t deserve you. I need you, but I can’t have you because I don’t deserve you. It’s simple really, but at the same time it’s fucking complicated. Again, I’m sorry.

This isn’t your fault, of course it isn’t. I’m the one that’s so fucked up that I can’t do anything right. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if I couldn’t even do this right. But I have to try. I know everyone will be better off without me anyway. I’m doing this on the break so that you guys can continue the next tour and album without me. We all know I didn’t really make much of a difference anyway. If anything, I was just holding you back. So I hope you can make it really big on the next album without me. You boys deserve everything in the world and more. Especially you, Harry.

You deserve someone who can make you happy, who can love you and treat you the right way. Because you deserve that. You deserve everything I couldn’t give you. I’m so sorry for that. We could’ve worked together, you know. If I wasn’t so fucked up we could have been great together. Sorry for fucking up that potential amazing relationship. Have a good life, Harry. I hope you have the happiest life anyone has ever had. I love you so, so much.

Love always,

Louis