Life Inc.

Louis had stayed where he was for a while, not thinking, just being aware – the feeling of the chair beneath him that supported him, his feet resting on the floor, the air being pulled into his lungs and pushed back out again, the quiet hum of the fridge, the faint sound of family from the house next door. It was a kind of meditation that Louis had taught himself for when his thoughts got too much; for when he felt like they were incessantly screaming horrendous things at him and he just needed an escape.

When Louis had eventually felt calm and level-headed and less like his thoughts were going to choke him, he had tidied up the kitchen; washing the dishes and cleaning down the surfaces, making a list of food that he need to get when it was either safe to leave Harry or he could come with him. He had no choice but to steal food. His logic was that since the company had stolen his life, they at least owed him the means to survive, including food.

When that was done, he finally allowed himself to collapse back into the sofa that Harry had been soundly on just a few hours ago.

Spending time with Harry had been the single most surreal experience of Louis’ already surreal life. Not only had he actually had a real life conversation with another real life human being, but that other human being was none other than the boy he had fallen in love with, and Louis found that those deep, green eyes were even more perfect when they were locked on his. Louis now knew how it felt to be alive.

He wasn’t surprised or offended by Harry’s sudden and unexplained need for space. If anything, he was amazed that Harry held it together for as long as he did given everything that had happened. Louis had had years and years to come to terms with his situation, Harry had been thrown into it less than twelve hours ago.

Louis didn’t regret the actions that led to this moment for a second. He had realized that not long after he had carried a limp Harry into his home and laid him on his sofa, covering him with a blanket and cleaning up the blood that matted his thick curls, panicking that he might be seriously injured and that he might have to find a way of getting Harry to a hospital.

He did feel a little guilty for what had happened, even though it was a complete accident, but it was largely overshadowed by the joy of the fact that he wasn’t alone anymore. The downside was that Louis knew that those feelings that constantly boiled under the surface of his skin for Harry would have to be ignored because Louis would never risk losing the potential new friendship.

But, in many way, Louis also refused to get his hopes up. He knew that Harry would probably not want to stay with him, to be around him, and Louis didn’t think that his already fragile mind could face the backlash if Harry left and he was too attached.

Harry’s smell still clung to the blanket that Louis was now curled up under and it took him back to the moment when Harry had first woken up. He had been sat by Harry’s side, watching him, worried sick about how hurt he might be and how he would react when he woke up alone, injured and in an unfamiliar place.

When Harry had woken, uttering a small disgruntled noise of pain, Louis had stopped breathing, but was unable to help himself from chuckling breathlessly. When their eyes met just a few seconds later, Louis felt weightless, like he had just forgotten everything – all his pain, all his loneliness, all his dark places and nightmares and demons. Those few seconds seem to last a lifetime.

He had also forgotten that Harry wasn’t supposed to be able to see him, hear him, or ask him who he was. The realization that Harry could in fact see him had hit him like a ton of bricks, causing him to drop the bowl of slightly bloody water in shock. With just two simple questions, Louis’ entire existence had been thrown into even more turmoil, all by Harry Styles...again.

He had avoided at Harry at first because, whilst he like to think he was intelligent and knowledgeable in a number of things, when it came to any kind of relationship, Louis was completely clueless. But Harry had just looked so vulnerable that Louis couldn’t stay away for more than five minutes; he was captured.

Knowing that Harry’s deep eyes had been fixed on him throughout their meal had Louis completely flustered. It was a miracle he hadn’t made a fool out of himself at any point. He had had to concentrate so hard on not messing up, or glancing up to meet those steady, inviting eyes.

Louis could feel his eyelids getting heavy, but he didn’t want to sleep. He was afraid that if he slept, he would have a nightmare and then he would disturb Harry and Harry would see just how damaged he really was and wouldn’t want to be around him. He was ashamed of the demons that haunted him at night, but he couldn’t help it and he started to drift off into sleep.

***

Meanwhile, Harry had found his way to the privacy of Louis’ bedroom, collapsing on the bed and drawing the covers around himself, hiding himself away as he tried to stop himself from hyperventilating.

His life so far was programmed. None of it was real. His life was just a tiny, meaningless spec in a huge, sick game of Sims and suddenly his entire existence disgusted him. Was any of his life real? How much? Did he really love his girlfriend, his family, his friends or was it all just manufactured for some mysterious purpose?

He took a deep, shaky breath, unintentionally breathing in the smell of Louis that clung to the room and the duvet he had wrapped himself in and he felt a little better – Louis was real. That was a tiny ray of hope in what currently seemed like eternal blackness.

When Harry looked past the haunted blue eyes that gave him chills, he was sure that Louis was a kind-hearted person who had cared for him and looked after him and would continue to do so, and that was all Harry could ask for. Louis was the miracle that was the potential new friend that he needed so desperately right now. And, whilst he sensed that Louis was fragile, he would work hard to make sure they got on and could work together, because they were all each other had now.

Harry sat up after a while, realizing he was calmer now that he had let his thoughts take a natural, uninterrupted course. The first thing that he noticed was that Louis’ bedroom was comforting. It was largely cream coloured, with light wooden furniture and the last rays of evening sunshine filtering through the blinds. It was simple and tidy, the only sign that it was a teenage boy living there was one pair of stray boxers lying discarded on the floor. A blush rose in Harry’s cheeks at the sight, even though he was alone.

The next thing his eyes were drawn to was a metal box sat on top of the dressing table. Harry bit his lip, trying to not let his curiosity get the better of him, but at the same time, he just wanted to find out more about the enigma that was Louis.

He shrugged the duvet off, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed and heaving himself up, padding gently over to the box in case Louis could hear his footsteps downstairs. It wasn’t big, it was scratched and beaten up, the dark blue paint was chipped and peeling, a thick padlock on the front had a series of notches as though there had been many attempts to break it open. On the top of the box, in the top left hand corner, there was a small engraving, which Harry leant closer to read.

Louis Tomlinson
24/12/91

“Louis Tomlinson,” Harry murmured quietly, hesitantly, testing the sound of the words as they rolled off his tongue, his deep voice breaking the tension that he had built around himself during his discovery. Harry pondered exactly what he had discovered, but it was only a surname, that Louis was two years older than he was and more mystery. He wondered why the box held the inscription that it did, what it contained, why Louis was so desperate to get inside it and why he hadn’t been able to yet.

Harry sighed, frustrated, tugging at an annoying curl that had strayed into his line of vision. Then he remembered something – the room Louis had asked him to stay out of. It was wrong to invade Louis’ privacy when he had explicitly asked Harry not to, but Harry’s mind reasoned that it was in the interest of personal safety. Louis didn’t have to know he’d been in the room, and if it turned out he was a crazed serial killer then he could get the hell out and if it was anything else, it wouldn’t matter and it would put Harry’s mind at ease.

Harry tentatively stepped out into the hallway, pausing to listen intently for any noises from downstairs, but all he could hear was the very faint sound of Louis’ deep breathing. Taking this as his cue from the universe that he was doing the right thing, he stepped across the hall and one door to the left.

He stopped again, battling his guilt and the thoughts that this was the right thing to do and the thoughts that he was risking the one friendship that could get him through all this mess. His fingers rested limply against the cool brass of the doorknob, the secrets that lay behind that simple white door calling to him in a low, seductive voice.

He was just putting pressure on the doorknob, ready to twist it and reveal what Louis didn’t want him to see when he heard a groan from downstairs and the sound of two feet hitting the floor. Harry’s hand shot back and he took an automatic step back, guilt rising thickly in his throat.

Harry listened carefully, frozen to the spot, praying that Louis wouldn’t come upstairs, but all he could hear was small, distressed noises that could only be made by Louis. Frowning, his guilt temporarily forgotten, he silently descended the stairs, glad that they didn’t creak.

When Louis came into view, he was sat on the sofa, his head in his hands. Harry’s frown grew as he stepped into the living room.

“Louis, are you okay?” he asked quietly. Louis jumped, snapping around to look at him, hand clapping against his chest in shock.

“Harry! You scared the life out of me!” Louis cried, taking deep breaths to try and calm his heart rate.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, trying unsuccessfully to fight the smile that spread across his features. “Are you okay though?”

“Yeah, sorry. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t,” Harry told him, the atmosphere filling with awkwardness. Louis cleared his throat, standing up, able to feel it too.

“Are you feeling better?” Louis asked, folding up the blanket so that he could avoid looking at Harry.

“Yeah, thanks. I’m sorry about earlier, it all just kind of err...caught up with me.”

“I understand.” Louis paused, finally glancing up, confusion flashing across his face when he spotted Harry grinning. “Why are you smiling like that?” He asked, finding it infectious, a smile tugging at the corners of his own lips.

“I don’t really know,” Harry chuckled, the sound twisting in the pit of Louis stomach.

“You’re strange, you know that?” Louis laughed slightly, relaxing, all awkwardness gone in an instant.

“Coming from the boy who’s wearing shoes but no socks,” Harry retorted.

“Shut up,” Louis laughed properly, unable to think of anything to argue back with, making Harry’s smile wider as he thought he saw a flash of life in Louis’ eyes. “I’m going to go and get changed. We could watch a DVD or something tonight, I don’t know.”

“That would be cool,” Harry nodded.

“Awesome,” Louis grinned, passing Harry and hurrying up the stairs. When he reached the top, he leant against the cool wall, closing his eyes and taking deep unsteady breaths. “Keep it together Tomlinson,” he muttered to himself, ignoring the thoughts of how gorgeous Harry had looked when he had laughed, focusing instead on how good it felt to genuinely laugh.

He sighed and straightened up, entering his room and tugging off his shirt, throwing it in his wash bin, blushing when he realized that he had left a pair of boxers on the floor. He rooted through his drawers, trying not to choose a shirt that made it look like he was trying to get Harry’s attention.

Suddenly, there was a cry of pain from downstairs and Louis immediately tensed, eyes widening, pulling on the first shirt his hand touched.

“Louis!” Harry’s voice called, pained and desperate. “Louis, something’s wrong!”