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Chapter 10 of young and beautiful broke me-
→The nights of excess where Harry’s walls break and he loses what little he has of himself in crowds and intoxications.
→He knows it doesn’t work with Louis so he doesn’t even try.
→The nights of excess where Harry’s walls break and he loses what little he has of himself in crowds and intoxications.
→He knows it doesn’t work with Louis so he doesn’t even try.
→The tune is lilting and sweet and unfamiliar, almost sad by nature while still bearing undertones of hope.
→Harry, who is all cardboard smiles and vacant eyes, the very personification of & #39;the light’s on but nobody’s home& #39; in the most gruesome sense
→Harry, who is all cardboard smiles and vacant eyes, the very personification of & #39;the light’s on but nobody’s home& #39; in the most gruesome sense
→For the first time, Harry Styles looks consistently like a person. He looks like a boy. And Louis can’t look away.
→ Harry has absolutely no idea that Louis is there as he silently plays and weeps.
→It’s fucking heartbreaking.
→ Harry has absolutely no idea that Louis is there as he silently plays and weeps.
→It’s fucking heartbreaking.
→And the tiny sniffles and the glistening cheeks caught between shadow and light fill Louis with an indescribable sorrow that he can’t even begin to place.
→Louis studies his profile, can see the tears even more clearly, and he feels utterly helpless and trapped
→Louis studies his profile, can see the tears even more clearly, and he feels utterly helpless and trapped
→He bows his head under the weight of his own thoughts and slides a hand through his curls, gripping the ends tight and tugging in what appears to be agonized frustration, his frame beginning to rock back and forth in gentle sways
→Harry’s tiny sobs fill the room as he winds his hair tighter around trembling fingers like a small, abandoned child.
→Louis is speechless, frozen
→voice bears no trace of the previous scene.
→Harry is the happiest of them all. Well. “Happiest.”
→Louis is speechless, frozen
→voice bears no trace of the previous scene.
→Harry is the happiest of them all. Well. “Happiest.”
→Louis envisions the shrouded boy at the piano, tears washing his face.
→He’s there, right there across the room, barely conscious and being held up by a string of socialites in sweaty, hanging clothes that look far too expensive and bland.
→"Fucking parasites"
→He’s there, right there across the room, barely conscious and being held up by a string of socialites in sweaty, hanging clothes that look far too expensive and bland.
→"Fucking parasites"
→he stares at his sleeping form. It’s such a contrast from the usual.
→Louis is reminded of earlier in the day, Harry’s face and posture as he wept and poured whatever feeling he possessed into the piano
→Louis is reminded of earlier in the day, Harry’s face and posture as he wept and poured whatever feeling he possessed into the piano
→He just sits there, staring at this tornado of a boy with deep shadows and dark curls and holds his fucking hand like a child, unable to pry himself away
→He doesn’t know when the next time will be that he sees him in such honest surrender, such open vulnerability.
→He doesn’t know when the next time will be that he sees him in such honest surrender, such open vulnerability.
end of thread. I& #39;m crying. Goodbye.
