original

we'll live to tell the tale

Chapitre 1: from the beginning, i guess

meeting his eyes for the first time was like suddenly being engulfed by high tide. a very simple moment, the way he was slightly timid, looking away before looking back—though it seems cheesy, harry could sense something about the boy right away. they met in the bathroom of a shitty fast food place that smelled of urine and smoke.

the boy, whose name harry would find out weeks later, had stuck in the back of harry's mind. even though they had never spoken, never interacted before or after that sole incident, for some reason, harry could not erase the memory of those eyes that reminded him of the salty seaside breeze.

harry and the ocean boy (whom harry had named in his head after the color of his eyes, specifically after the beaches he had seen in italy) crossed paths again in the bathroom of a nearby bar. except this time the ocean boy's eyes were red and swollen, and he couldn't breathe.

even as he was hyperventilating, harry took a split second extra before rushing to his side because he was so captured by the boy's beauty. there was something so tragic, so perfect, so gut-wrenchingly painful about the boy in front of him. something so obviously broken.

"hey, mate, are you okay? shit, probably not the right thing to say because obviously not…" harry stuttered, struggling to find the right words, "is there anything i can do? water? may i come closer to you, or would that be too overwhelming? fuck, can you even hear me?"

much to harry's dismay, the ocean boy was unresponsive. lost in his breathing, lost in his head, lost in what seemed like his own corner of the universe that he had conjured up just for himself, a universe with no oxygen, no water, no joy.

it wasn't until harry had no choice but to wrap his arms around this stranger at a bar to keep him from hitting his head when he blacked out when the boy looked back up at him. and once again, harry found himself lost in blueblueblue.

but this revelation was short-lived as the boy's eyes flutter shut and his entire weight (which was not much at all) in harry's arms. it was then when harry noticed that shivers were still racking the boy's body, despite his unconsciousness. his originally feathery hair was matted down into something much more messy, sticky, and greasy. but he still looked like an angel. to harry, at least.

only a couple minutes had passed before the boy came to, still in harry's arms, bewildered at the situation he had found himself in.

"holy shit, you scared me," harry whispered, as his voice had failed him from all the alcohol and nervousness that had come as a side effect of this odd night. "are you okay?"

the ocean boy took a deep, shaky breath as he stood up, smoothing himself out, and gave harry a sarcastic chuckle. "buzzing, lad. sorry you had to see me like that. pretty rude of me to do something like that in such a public place."

"no. don't apologize, i understand. are you feeling better though, really? be honest with me. i did just hold you until it felt like my arms were gonna fall off after all. might as well tell the truth."

the boy's expression flashed a bit of hurt, almost unnoticeable, completely so to the normal eye, but harry had caught it (later on he would call this his loubear-mood-senser).

"you didn't have to. no one asked you to do anything," he boy snapped as he turned around. "now bugger off, will ya? i'm getting out of here." a few steps following this statement, though, he wobbled and had to lean against the tile wall for stability.

"you don't look like you're in any state to go anywhere."

"none of your concern. i'll be fine." this time, it wasn't anger that burned in the boy's eyes, but emptiness. "'ve always been. fine."

"did you come here alone? by train? by car?"

"for someone that complains about my weight, you sure act like a nosy brat. some moral hero you are, a sanctimonious shitter, saving a guy who had a panic attack on the floor of the bathroom at some dumpster of a bar."

harry then realized his mistake. to struck him that it was that comment that set the ocean boy off, and it was then when he realized how physically frail he was. like you could snap him in half with just a gust of wind. "it was a joke. you were actually very light, to a worrying extent. i just…" he trailed off. "i just thought you were pretty fit and wanted to help you out, is all. if you want space i'm fine with that. but if i could get your number, that'd be nice too."

the ocean boy was taken aback, to say the least. it was a moment of shock followed by relief, followed by amusement. more of the boy's expressions that harry had made sure to burn into his memory. "if you wanted to hook up, you should have just said so from the first place. who even are you?"

"harry. harry styles. i… i don't normally do this kind of thing," he sighed, and he really didn't. harry had come here with old friends, friends that loved partying, that loved women, and begged him to tag along. now that they went their separate ways after high school, it was rare for them to be able to settle on a time and place for anything. "i came here with some other guys. not really used to this partying thing. went to take a wee and here you were."

"okay, well…" the boy looked confused and so, so awkward, like he wasn't used to being hit on so directly (he wasn't), which harry thought to be a crime as well as a gift from the gods for him, as the boy was so beautiful, more people should see that. but if more people did, he wouldn't be looking at the person in front of him now. "i mean, i'm here alone. i don't really do hookups but i'm open for one, i guess. could use a little something to forget about life."

at this, harry cracked the biggest smile that the boy thought wasn't even possible. with his pretty green eyes and pretty brown hair and pretty little dimples. maybe this wasn't about to be so bad.

"sick. i'll drive you to my place. what was your name again?"

"ah, bad manners of me to ask for your name without telling you mine. louis. it's louis. louis tomlinson," he stuttered, slightly embarrassed. "maybe after a few more drinks?"

"i don't see a problem with that, lou. let's do it. my treat."

"it's louis."

"i know."

harry looked so giddy and excited at this, it reminded louis of a child, of what it was like to feel things so honestly and of being young and fearless again. of course, harry was not that much younger, but he felt lifetimes away. louis thinks about it and feels so small again, but not in the youthful way. in the "i-hate-myself-and-i'm-tired-of-feeling-this-way" way.

harry sauntered out of the bathroom, but louis wasn't necessarily dragging his feet. after all, a cute man had just asked him to shag. what could be better?

they both got drinks, harry a sugary cocktail that made louis shudder thinking about consuming himself (though, of course, it looked lovely with harry, golden liquid matching his golden skin, golden soul), while louis simply got a vodka soda.

after some mundane chatter about their lives, and harry tiptoeing around the elephant in the room, louis casually brought it up not only because he felt the tension in the air, but also he was beginning to trust harry, despite every signal in his brain telling him to turn around.

"so, you're not going to ask me why?"

"why, what?" harry said stupidly with that stupid deep voice of his, despite being fully aware of what the other boy meant.

"don't 'why, what' me, styles. you know. the bathroom thing."

so harry only smiled (that pretty smile of his), and gave a knowing shake of the head. "i figured you'd bring it up when you were comfortable. i don't want to push you."

"okay. yeah. good. i mean- i appreciate that. yeah. thanks." louis stuttered in chunks.

"are you ready then? comfortable, i mean, to tell-"

before harry could even finish, louis cut him off, stiffly. "no. i was just wondering. most people are nosier, i guess. i did call you a nosy brat earlier, and i'm sorry. jumped to conclusions, on that one."

"it's alright. i know you were startled." this reminded harry of the conversation they had earlier, of how the hair on the back of louis' neck stood up when he joked about him being heavy. "you're beautiful, you know that, right? really. really, really beautiful. hot, too."

louis rolled his eyes, chuckling bitterly. "you just want to get in my pants. not gonna work, harry. you're already in so you don't have to try to woo me anymore. calm down."

harry wrinkled his forehead in response. "i mean it though, you really are. believe me."

louis was starting to look truly irritated and hurt, which in turn felt like tiny little prickles in harry's chest. he knew something was wrong before, but even more so now. "drop it. let's go to your place, yeah?"

even though harry wanted to fight back, grab the boy by the face and tell him just how perfect he is, kiss him right then and there, not stopping until he knew that, he just sighed. "okay, yeah. my place it is."