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10 December 2012 @ 12:36 am
[rpf] Another light lost from your face, it’s complicated  
Title: Another light lost from your face, it’s complicated.
Author: lamechante
Fandom: One Direction
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Word-counting: 1594
Rating: G
Warnings: angst, slash?, het?
Summary: one moment he dreads it, the next he lives it.
Notes: for Marta. As you know, all I’ve written or drafted so far is Lirry and Larry isn’t really my cup of tea. But I tried my best for you and I’m so sorry if it’s angsty and sad, but I blame it all on HS. Happy birthday brainy!

Going out in winter with just a t-shirt on has never been a good idea and Liam remarks it to Louis something like twelve times while he keeps him some company in the hospital: Louis is wrapped in a blanket and keeps coughing and sneezing: what looked like a bad cold was, according to the doctors, a slight form of pneumonia, but nevertheless weighty enough to drag him to the ER. It is already the second day Louis is hospitalized and, as much as Liam could be annoying with his parental worry and wisdom, Louis is grateful that he his with him: Danielle is in town and there would be no reason to waste his time with Louis, considering the little amount of time he is allowed to spend with her, but ‘this is what friendship is’, says Liam, shrugging, and Louis can’t help but hint a smile behind his aerosol mask. Zayn and Niall stepped by in the morning, but yet again Perrie and Amy are visiting them and Louis knows how much they deserve to be close to the people they love and miss. Still, they came to visit, unlike Harry, who doesn’t even know Louis is sick; Harry who hasn’t been around for days and as much as Louis is trying to hide it, he hates that his best mate isn’t here with him and doesn’t take care of him. He actually hates him now, and he grumbles as he remembers all the times Harry pissed him off: ‘its actually a shitloads’, he reckons, shaking his head, and the more he thinks, the more he gets stressed out, shivery and yet again without strengths. One moment his body’s temperature is getting higher and higher, the next he is completely asleep, exhausted.

Louis wakes up and there is a tray with breakfast on his bed and a newspaper opened next to him, which is actually weird considering that he is not used to this kind of intellectual shit – Harry does it sometimes, being the hipster he is, but only when there’s something he really wants to keep within the newspaper, like their first real interview on the Mirror, or The Times issue the day after the closing ceremony of the Olympics. Louis has a quick look on the paper and he has to rub his eyes because ‘Wait, there’s Harry on it’; next to him stands a slim blondie with her hair tied up in ponytail and presumably a kinky face. Presumably because she’s wrapped up in a deep kiss with him and Louis has to goggle and draws up the tabloid to his eyes as his sight is blurry without any reason why.
Without moving, he grabs his phone and he’s about to call Harry when he gets a text 'Sorry mate, I won’t join you all for breakfast... Kind of a crazy night'.
And Louis grumbles, a kind of grumble that doesn’t make any sound – and everything is blurry and foggy again.
‘What the fuck is going on’, he thinks, panicking and dialing without thinking twice Liam’s number, even if he was sure he saved it because it’s his mate Liam, not a complete stranger. The phone keeps ringing and when Liam answers, Louis tries to make a sound, but fails and panics again: his sore throat wasn’t that bad the day before. Liam, on the other side of the phone, doesn’t sound like his Liam, because his voice is plain and a bit serious and Liam is never serious around Louis. 'Mate, I’m sorry, I didn’t see this happening': he keeps saying sorry for an infinite number of times and, as he hangs up, Louis tries to recall what he was sorry about, but fails.

It's a really beautiful day outside, Louis reckons, but he doesn’t understand where he is exactly: there are palms like the ones Simon had in his house in Spain and modern skyscrapers as if it was America and an old bridge too, something definitely European, maybe French, maybe that bridge in Paris where – But a knock on his door cuts off his stream of thoughts and Zayn crosses the threshold. Louis is genuinely happy to see him because Zayn has this kind of aurea that heals all the tensions and now, after the weird phone call with Liam, the sense of disorientation he has, he definitely needs Zayn’s presence. But yet again, there’s a pant Zayn who comes in.
'What’s up bro?' asks Louis – and now he's sure he said something, but Zayn stares at him, and within a second he flings himself around Louis’ neck and he totally sounds like Liam when he starts saying 'Sorry mate, I’m sorry... I didn’t think Haz could fall so easily for her. You don’t deserve all this after all you've done.' Zayn keeps talking and Louis tries to catch every word, but his brain buzzes from time to time and he is sure he's missing some parts. 'Harry is young and he's not as strong as you' and 'he destroyed everything you’ve built in three years in less than a day' 'I’m sure it’s her fault'. And then Zayn steals away.

If all of this was a puzzle, it would be one with almost all the plugs at their place except for the ones who actually make you realise what the picture is: he has never been naive, but he doesn’t get the worry of his mates because he knows Harry and he would never do something like that, because they used to be a thing and – ‘it just can’t be’, he tells to himself.
Absentmindedly he takes the remote and turns on the telly on the first channel he finds: it’s in a weird language, definitely not understandable for him, but there’s a footage of Harry – and it’s funny that they could be anywhere and yet the television would speak about them. Oddly enough, images of Harry with the blond girl of the newspaper appear on the screen and he looks happy, ‘genuinely happy’, thinks Louis – and he feels that in his bones, he knows when Harry is happy, he used to be part of Harry’s happiness.

The puzzle that didn’t make any sense a couple of minutes before, now takes form in Louis’ mind and he feels like his lungs are exploding inside his chest. He tries to walk, but his legs seem unable to bear his weigh; he tries to call for help, but nobody seems to listen. He is actually screaming and crying but all is silent as if his life was on mute.
He just closes his eyes and a minute after – or an hour, he can’t tell – Harry is in front of him, smiling, still as a statue. Louis stares at him, touches his face, messes up his hair, clings on to his neck, screams the loudest screams he could possibly make, scratches Harry’s arms and squeezes his hands until it hurts. But Harry is impassible, smiling, caught in an ambiguous silence, until he says 'I’m happy now.'
And it’s at this point that Louis remembers – he remembers the time they first broke up because ‘It is too hard for Harry, he’s too young’ and the second time ‘Harry can’t bear this weight, he’s too fragile’ and all the excuses, the pretending, the lies. He finds himself recalling how much he suffered because of him only to protect him, and one moment he’s holding a knife found on the tray, the next Harry is bleeding on the floor.

“Harry" Louis screams in terror.
"I’m here Lou, here.” Louis opens his eyes all of a sudden: he is on a drip and someone is holding his hand. He would recognize this touch among thousands, his veins making their way up to his arms, his firm grasp. Louis glances up and there’s a Harry who’s neither smiling, nor still or bleeding.
'Bad dreams, Lou?' asks Harry, worry written in his gaze. And now Louis finds himself able to utter sounds because his nightmare where he couldn’t walk or talk is finished; but still he keeps silent, until his eyes become watery, “Why did you leave me?” Louis’ voice quivers and his lips tremble with sadness: it’s a ‘why did you leave me the first time and the second and all the moment of our lives we could have faced and tackled together and we didn’t’ and they both know it.
Harry looks at Louis, so fragile and vulnerable like he has never seen him, for the first time expecting something from him and not the other way around, and he doesn’t know what to say.
He keeps silent, still as the Harry in Louis’ dream, unable to think of a single reason to give to Louis - because all that comes to his mind it’s his own egoism, the fact that Louis always fought for them, stood for them, protected them and Harry was always the passive one, the one to take care of. The one who gave up and didn’t face any consequence.
“I’m sorry, Lou” he says, but his eyes don’t show any sorrow – and they both understand it, a realization that hits Louis hard and makes Harry vanish from the room.

One moment Harry leans on the door of Louis’ hospital room, his wrongs dawning on him, the next he gets a text ‘I think I might like you for real. T’.

And this is not Louis’ nightmare anymore – he is awake, right behind that door and his heart’s into pieces.
Music: Autumn leaves - Ed Sheeran
(Screened comment)
M.: pic#117721326lamechante on December 10th, 2012 12:08 am (UTC)
Odiami! Dovevo metterci un warning enorme tipo DEPRESSIONE A GOGO' evitala come la peste. Però in questi giorni ho ritagliato tutti i momenti liberi dallo studio per scrivertela ed Ed mi ha supportato in tutto ciò facendomi versare lacrimoni!
In effetti è molto pertinente - Lou preso malissimo, Harry che passa poco tempo con i cuccioli (?) e la power!beard della Swift.

(ti odio - ora ricambio con la power!icon con harry!collarbones)
(Screened comment)
M.: music > one direction > harrylamechante on December 10th, 2012 12:26 am (UTC)
E' che questa storia un po' mi ha fatto riflettere su Louis, sul fatto che lui prenda sempre posizione su tutto, si esponga, magari in maniera bitchy e fastidiosa, ma comunque si esponga. Harry invece è la creatura eterea e perfetta che però sta lì, silenziosa nella sua perfezione. E boh, se dovessi trovare in tutto questo momentaccio (?) una cosa positiva, è di certo il fatto che sto rivalutando Louis (che non ha fatto nulla di particolare per farsi rivalutare, onestamente, ma io ho i miei problemi psicologici e dovresti aver imparato a conoscerli XD)

AUGURONI ANCORA goditi il tuo compleanno che io vado a dormire :P
(Screened comment)
M.: music > one direction > everybodylamechante on December 10th, 2012 11:49 am (UTC)
Thank you so much for your criticisms, which I find really adequate, so no worries, I'm not offended at all, on the contrary.
Basically, I think that the fic is probably too short and to rushed and should have been longer and more descriptive to make understand better my point. What I was trying to do was to make the reader feel like it wasn't a nightmare, at first, so I had the idea of putting the whole dream in italics, but then it would have lost the surprise effect, do you know what I mean? (I guess, though, that it wasn't very clear my idea, so I failed anyway ;)
At the end it doesn't change to Harry's POV. I mean, the last part is a mixture of both their POVs, really (and probably this is a bit confusing, too), and of course the one who reads the message is Harry (which I thought was kind of understandable, but probably only for me!)

Thanks so much for your criticisms, really, I'd love to hear more from you, I mean, a beta-reader like you would be lush! ;) Feel free to tell me more about how you would improve the story, what are the parts that you found more convincing and less. If you wish, of course ;)