"Mum!! Harry's staying over tonight!" I call out as the both of us go up to my room.

"No problem. Have fun boys. Door should be open at all times and no funny business." Her voice floats through the house and I groan in embarrassment.

I seat Harry on my bed and kneel in front of him looking at him expectantly. He doesn't say anything and I raise my eyebrows.

"Well... Go ahead. Tell me." I cross my arms.

He takes in a shaky breath. "Okay." He gets up and starts pacing around. "You might want to sit down and brace yourself."

"Is it that bad?" I ask nervously sitting up on my bed.

"No! I'm just a freak who likes making a big deal out of nothing." He sasses. "Of course it's that bad you idiot." He snaps. "May I?"

"Sure. Sorry."

"Okay" he exhales. "I- I wasn't born in the Styles household. I don't even know my actual last name. My first memories begin in some distant, lonely, old, crumbling orphanage in North Scotland. They mostly include being pushed around by my 'brothers' and 'sisters'." He does air quotes. He breathes deeply.

"Harry.. It's alright... Don't stress, love. You don't have to tell me."

"I know. I want to. I was the quiet and shy kid that never ratted them out. No one found out that it was actually Parker who broke Misty's doll or that it was Nathan that pushed Mike off the roof causing him to be paralysed for the rest of his life. For some reason I was among the first people in my age group to get out of that place. I was 5 when I was taken into that family. I don't even remember them now. They were- amazing- at first. But then I did something. I don't remember what but I know I had done something bad because-" he gulps. "Because then the abuse begun. I don't remember much, I was 5 years old after all. But what I do remember I'll tell you." He breathes heavily.

"Harry, you should-" his breathing becomes even more labored and he starts coughing. "HARRY!!"

"M-my inhaler!" He gasps.

"Inhaler? Where? Where's it?"

"C-coat. My coat po-pocket." He waves in the general direction of the hall closet.

"Fuck. Wait here. I'm getting it." I bolt downstairs and wrench open the hall closet, pulling off Harry's coat from the hangers and hunting for his inhaler in the million pockets. Once I find it I rush back up to him and hold it to his mouth. I press the inhaler and he breathes in the medicine. My hand goes lax with relief but he supports it and presses on top of my thumb again.

"I've got a very bad case of asthma." He explains.

"Harry, let it be okay. I don't need to know."

"But I need to tell you." He says determinedly getting up from the floor.

"At least sit down Harry." I gently push him onto my bed.

"I remember being pushed down the stairs several times." He pulls up his sleeve to his elbow and shows a two inch scar stretching across the expanse of his forearm. There were whippings from what I remember. Belts mostly. But not always. Ropes. A proper whip once. Not sure if that was at the same place or one of my other homes. But then they just sent me back. Beaten and bruised but I was back at the orphanage. I was glad really. At least it was only dealing with the violent children there. Barbara was always lovely to me. The best caretaker I could have. Lovely old woman." He wipes at his eyes.

"Foster home to foster home. One set of abusive parents to another I was sent into various homes. The worst ones I think were the ones that were the best to begin with. My 8th home I think it was. I turned 13 their. I had a massive crush on my 'sister's' boyfriend's best mate. They came around often. Older than me. 'Cooler' than me." He laughs humorlessly.

"I told my 'parents' that I liked him. I had studied about the lgbtqia+ community a lot. It was not a topic that came up when we talked daily so I didn't know exactly how homophobic they were. They yelled at me, a lot. But that was fine. A week later, my foster mom was drunk and smashed a bottle of beer. She picked up a shard of glass while I wasn't looking and well, she was on the floor and I was trying to help her up but she kinda," he lifted the right leg of his jeans and showed another massive scar on the front of his calves. "Then my 'dad' lifted me by my hair and dragged me to my car and dropped me back at the orphanage. Barbara helped me a lot. Bandaged and everything like the lovely woman she is. I was taken into a few homes after that. But then you had my 16th home, the same year. When I was almost 14. My family was lovely, fucking perfect to be honest. But the other day-" he smiles sadly. "This is hard." He clears his throat. "The other day-" his voice starts cracking. "I was-" he sniffles "I was coming home. From school. And it was raining. Really bad. There was so much thunder and noise. And it was so cold. I didn't even have an umbrella. I was drenched. And I was passing a car, this grey car and before I knew it I was in the backseat of the car with this man hovering over me and-" his voice breaks completely. I immediately wrap my arms around him.

"Hey, no. You're okay. You're so brave Harry, so brave. Look, you're here right now. Alive and with me. You're fine Hazza. No one can hurt you anymore. So strong baby, so very strong." I rub his back whispering in his ear.

"He- he- he raped me Louis. H- he forced himself on me."

"Shh, shhh. I know, darling, I know. Deep breaths for me. Come on. Breathe with me." I help him calm down.

"There's more to it."

"What is it?"

"Well... After I got back from that home. I was sent back because they didn't want a child who couldn't even protect himself. I found out that Barbara... She- she died. And this new caretaker came in place of her, Marie. She was a cruel dictator. Everyone hated her. We weren't allowed to speak or refuse to her commands. I was tired and sleepy. I had done all the chores by myself all over the orphanage. And I fell asleep before bedtime. This is a few days before Christmas. She took me out to the backyard and whipped me like a hundred times. With an actual whip. Till the snow was red with blood. She whipped me naked. I protested so much. She threw chilled water at my face. She forced my head into a bucket of ice water whenever I spoke. And she left me. For 3 days. Doused in ice cold water up to my chest, out in snow. The only reason I didn't die was because Barbara's daughter, one of Marie's helpers had taken a liking to me. So whenever Marie fell asleep she'd sneak out back and wrap a blanket around me or add boiling water to the tank I was doused in. When the doctor came for our routine checkup two days before Christmas and asked about me, she was caught and sent to jail. I was severely sick. Hypothermia and a hundred other things. I thought I would die." He sniffles. "But then mum took me in. She and Gems took care of me. They saved me. I didn't speak to them for months and months. But then they got through to me. I was-"

I shush him right then. "Enough, love. Don't be so hard on yourself. I love you okay. I'm here for you. Now and always."

"So you don't want me to get out of here?" He looks at his lap.

"No." I whisper forcing him to look up and wiping the tears from his eyes. "Never Hazza. I'll always be here for you. Like I promised."

"And you aren't disgusted that I didn't save myself from that guy and stand up for myself when Marie went all dictator on me?"

"Harry, I can't say I've been in such a situation or I know what you've been through but I sure as hell know that defending yourself in such times is easier said than done. I really care about you yeah?"

"Thank you." He nuzzles into my neck.

I thread my fingers through his hair. "Of course. Do you wanna sleep?"

"Yes please."

I take him into my arms and tuck him in my bed cuddling him tightly. "I love you." I whisper into his hair.

"I love you too Louis. Thank you. This means so much to me."

"You're welcome, love. You mean so much to me." I kiss the top of his head and fall asleep with him wrapped in my arms.