Klarix22

"Harry, I-I'm so sorry..." Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis' soul, it's so hard, nearly impossible.That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself.But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty "I'm so sorry" that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn't at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he feels it.✚☤✚ a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.NOT MY STORY ALL CREDİTS GOES TO @thealmightyavocado ON AO3!!!…

Klarix22

It's morning light when he looks back at Louis, bright and unfiltered, like a halo. He will never forget this image; he will chase to find it again, in this same way. So perfect in time; if he had a camera he'd capture it. How the thin knit of the sweater falls over the dip of Harry's collarbone, his lovely neck bared for Louis' lips when they come close again. His lips stretched wide and pink in a closed smile, until they break free to reveal his bunny teeth. How his legs cross almost childishly, bare ankles crossed, the creamy expanse of his thighs pale. His hair, messy and disheveled, before an array of light. His new love: Harry. His new muse; his new everything. or Louis is a lonely artist in Florence, Harry is a runaway Parisian student. 1970s au.I don not own this story all credits goes to @superglass on ao3…

Klarix22

"We keep telling the other, I love you and I love you, and we do, though we both know where the knives are." - Laura Van Prooyenharry is a third-year witch and violinist at Laitswold, the only magical academy in the UK, with dreams of taking on the world, and hopefully breaking the centuries-old curse on his family while he's at it. he does not dream of facing off against his childhood rival and duet partner, but louis is back in town after six years abroad, so that's exactly what happens.This story doesnt belong to me and all the credits goes to stylinsoncity on ao3…

Klarix22

Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes.This isn;t my story all credits goes to Velvetoscar on AO3…