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Harry's knuckles were turning white from his near death grip on the pencil, trying his absolute hardest not to throw it against the wall. His head was pounding, feeling as though his brain was being poked at repeatedly with needles. He could practically feel the nausea building up in his stomach and considering the fact that throwing up was one of his major phobias definitely didn't help the situation.
He was working on his third paper of the day— well night at this point— and he couldn't remember a time when he was more frustrated. It was only Tuesday and he felt like he was drowning in coursework.
School was always important to him, but there'd be times like these where he'd wear himself out and spend hours upon hours finishing whatever assignments he needed to do. And the thing was, he didn't necessarily have to finish all of these papers in one night, he just chose to. One was due Friday and the other two were due a week from then. So why was he rushing to finish them all in one sitting?
Because he's a perfectionist and a persistent little shit (as his boyfriend likes to call him). Speaking of his boyfriend, Louis has told him multiple times to take breaks and plan out his assignments rather than force himself to do them all in one day. But Harry, being the stubborn boy he is, chooses not to listen.
It's no one's fault but his own, really. Even growing up his mum would have to constantly remind him that he doesn't need to have perfect grades and polished papers every time he submits something. Harry just can't do that, though. His brain is wired in a quite inconvenient manner in a way that makes him feel like everything he turns in has to be even better than the previous stuff.
It sucks and it's super fucking annoying but he doesn't know how else to fix the problem. So instead, he just pushes through and stays up as late as he has to so that he'll keep his straight A's.
"Stupid. Fucking. Uni," he huffs in annoyance, eyes blurring with tears at the realization that he still has to write another paragraph before he can move onto the conclusion.
He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to keep the inevitable tears from falling, but it doesn't work, and within just a few seconds he's dropping the pencil and leaning back against the chair. His shoulders slump down and so does his head, hands coming up so he can bury his face into his palms.
The sound of cars passing by and some honking at each other seem to get louder, overwhelming his senses because then his ears start ringing. His breath quickens and his tears multiply, chest heaving as he stands up on shaky legs.
Despite his pounding head and racing heart, it doesn't take long for him to realize he was having a panic attack. It's happened before when he's worked himself too hard just like this, but every now and then he'll get one out of nowhere. Both are equally horrifying and every time it happens he wants nothing more than to be in Louis' arms.
Right.
Louis.
He scrambles to find his phone, snatching it once he finds it wedged between a textbook and a stack of papers. He types in his code with shaky fingers, almost backing out on calling Louis in fear that he'd annoy him which he knows would literally never happen, but the state of mind he was in didn't understand that. He presses his contact and calls him anyway.
The ringing on the other line only makes his headache worse, eyebrows furrowing and forehead creasing in pain until Louis finally picks up.
"Hey, love," his voice comes through the phone so softly and gently that it only makes more tears fall from Harry's eyes.
He sniffles, "Lou."
Louis' heard that tone before. He knows what it means, which is why he doesn't wait even a second before standing up and making his way out of his dorm.
"It's okay, darling, I know. I'll be there in just a couple minutes, yeah? Gonna stay on the phone with you the whole time."
And that was one one of the many, many reasons why Harry loves Louis. He just gets it. He always does.
"Did too much, I think," Harry mumbles shakily.
Louis nodded to himself, figuring it had to do with his coursework. He hummed softly, "That's all right, baby, it's okay. You sitting down?"
He could tell from the faint rustling on the other end that Harry wasn't originally sitting down until he had asked.
"I am now."
Louis smiled, "Good job, H. Have you tried the grounding exercise we practiced?"
Harry sniffled again, shuffling back against the headboard and bringing his knees up to his chest.
"The five senses one?"
"Yeah, baby, the five senses one. You had the chance to try it out yet?" Louis asks as he opens the door to the building opposite his where Harry's dorm was.
"No, I'm sorry," he whispered, more tears escaping his eyes at the thought that he may have disappointed Louis.
Louis frowned, shaking his head and feeling like shit because really? Harry was apologizing. Apologizing for not being in the right headspace to try and calm himself down while literally in the middle of having a panic attack. They both know how much of a people pleaser he is, but the fact that he was actually apologizing to Louis genuinely hurt him.
"No, baby, no, don't apologize. It's all right, yeah? It's all okay. How about we do it together once I see you in a minute?"
Harry swallowed back a whine, "Okay. Are you almost here? Need you."
If possible, Louis' heart probably shattered at that. He held back his own tears before opening another door and entering the hallway where Harry's dorm was.
"Almost, just a few more seconds. Is your door locked?"
"Mhm."
Louis knew that. He always kept it locked, said it made him feel safer. For some reason Louis found that a bit precious.
"All right, love. Wanna come open the door for me?"
He could hear moving on the other end of the line before Harry hung up, and then the door was opening and Louis' heart shattered even more. Harry's eyes were a stinging red, cheeks flushed and tears falling down his face. Louis could see the distant look on his face, and it didn't take more than a couple seconds to realize that Harry was on the edge of dissociating, which wasn't uncommon. It happened nearly every time he had a panic attack which only made everything worse each time.
Louis stuffed his phone into his pocket, stepping in and opening his arms. Harry didn't waste even a second before lunging at Louis and hiding his face in the crook of his neck while he began to cry. Louis gently pushed the door back and closed it with his heel before pressing a kiss to Harry's curls and walking them over to the bed.
He somehow managed to maneuver them onto it, resting his back against the headboard and Harry curling up on his lap. One look over at the desk tells Louis that he was right, that Harry once again did indeed work himself over with coursework.
He absolutely hates when Harry does that, but no matter how many times he tells him not to, he still does. Louis' accepted the fact that he'll probably never be able to change his thought process when it comes to that, but he'll try as long as he has to.
"Wanna try out the five senses?" he hums, one hand gently scratching at Harry's scalp and the other rubbing his knee.
Harry shrugs, not crying as hard anymore but still very clearly distressed. He sniffles, "Can't think."
Louis has an idea as to what Harry means, but he's not going to pry. He's been through this with him before, so he knows not to push him when it's not necessary.
"That's okay, lovely. What if I try it out? Can just have you listen a bit? Maybe it'll help you out in the future."
He feels Harry nod against his chest, prompting him to press a gentle kiss to his forehead before leaning back and humming softly.
"Well first off I see you, my pretty boy," he begins in an almost hushed tone, continuing running his fingers through Harry's curls.
Harry presses himself closer to Louis, trying to relax as best as he can with his still racing heart and leaky eyes.
"I see one of your nice and soft blankets," he murmurs, reaching forward and bringing said blanket up to his chest, which Harry eyed for a second before nuzzling his face into it. Louis smiled at that. "I see your lamp, your shoes, and the bear I won for you at our cliché carnival second date."
When Harry lifts his head and sees Louis holding the bear, they both grin. Harry mumbles, "Boo bear."
Louis passes him over to Harry who accepts the stuffed animal right away before Louis replies, "Hm?"
The shake of Harry's head has Louis momentarily confused until he explains. "No, the bear. That's what I named him."
And as much as that makes Louis want to roll his eyes, he can't help but smile. Yeah, only Harry would do something like that.
"Of course you did," he shakes his head fondly, "Now let's see, what can I feel..."
Harry brings his hand that isn't holding the stuffed bear up and rests his palm on louis' wrist. "My hair?"
Louis feels like a proud mom, praising, "There you go, Haz. So good at this already."
The way Harry smiles softly, closing his eyes and pushing his face back into the blanket on Louis' chest encourages him to continue, "I feel the breeze coming from outside your window, can feel your breathing, and my jumper. Good?"
Harry gives a slight nod, and Louis' glad that they're making progress with this. He thinks that maybe it'll actually be useful for Harry in the future.
"Got something you can hear, baby?" Louis asks in hopes of slowly bringing Harry back to reality. He can tell that he's starting to calm down, but still knows that he isn't completely aware of his surroundings and feelings yet. They'll get there soon.
Harry turns his cheek so it's pressed against the blanket before speaking just barely above a whisper, "The fan over there...there's some birds outside, I think."
"Exactly right, lovely. You're the best at this, huh?"
He gets a shrug in response before Harry finishes, "Can hear your voice. It's nice."
If possible, Louis' heart probably just exploded. The amount of love he has for his boy was insane. He honestly didn't think he'd ever get out of the so called honeymoon phase, but he was perfectly okay with that.
"Right again, H. The sweetest boy," he hums in another praise, holding the back of his head while continuing gently scratching his scalp. He could practically feel him calming down more and more. "Almost done...I can smell your shampoo, considering you've got the fancy one."
"Hey," Harry whined, "Don't be mean. My shampoo is perfectly normal. I've just got a nice smelling one which was apparently noticed by a jealous someone."
There's no doubt that Harry's pouting against him, but Louis knows that it's a harmless, quite cute one. Those were Louis' favorite of his. He always looked the opposite of an angry 19 year old, and instead really just a grumpy child. Or a kitten somehow. Maybe both.
He rolled his eyes in a fond manner. This boy would be the death of him.
"Yeah baby, that's exactly it. Now one more thing I can smell would have to be your flowers over there. You've always got the prettiest ones."
Harry's pout instantly turned into an appreciative smile. He'd always been a plant mom, and ever since Louis met him he's had at least three different ones lying around. Louis' remembered that zinnias and english ivies have been his favorites for years. They're always a part of his collection, even with the limited amount of space in his dorm. Louis admires that about him.
"Thank you," the younger boy murmurs in response.
"Mhm. You're wearing chapstick, yeah?"
Harry furrows his brows but nods, pulling away to look at Louis. He turns more towards him, holding onto his shoulders and straddling his waist as comfortably as he can.
"Why?"
Louis brings one hand down to splay across one of Harry's thighs, and lifts the other one up to gently grab his jaw. He presses their lips together, the touch not necessarily light, but just enough to hopefully make Harry more aware of what's going on around him and help him focus. It seems to be working because Louis can feel his shoulders being squeezed softly.
He slips his tongue past his lips, being careful because of his probably still hazy-ish mindset while letting theirs brush against each other's. Louis' also careful as to not let it turn into something more, so after a few seconds of getting their mouths just a tad bit messy from the kissing he pulls away. He rubs up and down Harry's thigh comfortingly, cupping the side of his face and running the pad of his thumb along his cheekbone.
"And lastly, can taste those pretty lips. Vanilla and a bit of mint. It's a new one isn't it?" he asks with a warm smile. Harry returns it almost instantly.
He nods, biting his lip in the most perfect and cute manner that makes Louis want to kiss him again. Soon.
"You did so well, baby. How're you feeling?"
Harry glances around the room, thinking about his answer with only a slight amount of hesitation. "Better. Still feel a bit off, but it's probably just the whole dissociating thing fading away or whatever."
Louis nods, thankful that his boy was for the most part feeling okay again and able to explain what's on his mind. He's glad that he can be there and do that for Harry. He deserves only the best of everything in the whole world.
"That's good, darling. Now, you're gonna let me know when your work starts stressing you out, yeah? Just give me a call and I'll be here. Promise."
There's a hint of unsureness on Harry's face but it quickly disappears, "Okay. I promise."
Louis nods again, pecking Harry's lips and grabbing his hands that were still holding onto his shoulders to intertwine their fingers. Louis holds them to his own chest and squeezes them.
"I love you, Hazza."
The grin that took over Harry's face and the blush that covered his cheeks was enough for Louis to feel as though this moment was exactly where he needed to be. This is his happiness— Harry is his happiness. Harry is the reason for his smile, his motivation to get up everyday and the perfect picture of his soulmate. Harry is his soulmate.
"Love you too, Lou."
Harry was also the reason for how whipped he was, and honestly, Louis wouldn't have it any other way.