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In The Streets You Run Afree

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  Louis was terrified, his entire body shook with fear as he curled in on himself and pressed close into the cold surface of the fridge, trying to make himself smaller in hopes of being hidden for a little while.  However, it deemed nearly impossible as his boyfriend came storming into the kitchen, his face red with anger and his knuckles white from clenching too hard.  Louis knew he was in trouble on a number of levels and he did not know what to expect.

  Looking up to the taller man Louis could see the white puffs of air seeping from his nostrils in pure anger, looking ready to explode any moment.  Louis did not know how to react, not knowing how his boyfriend of five years will do to him.

  That day, Louis had woken up feeling absolutely sick, whatever was sitting in his stomach from the day before felt like it was going to come up any moment, and he was sweating profusely.

  Patrick had already left that morning for work, not giving Louis the chance to tell him before hand.  Louis tried everything he could to see himself to feel a little better before Patrick got home, but nothing was working.  No amounts of medicine or light food helped him to bypass the sickening feeling he has in the pit of his stomach.

  However, as Patrick arrived home later that night, Louis had been tucked under the blanket and shivering yet, his clothes were soaked with sweat.  His boyfriend had been anything less than impressed when he walked into the room, yelling at Louis for being so goddamn lazy before tearing the blanket from the smaller boy.

  Louis had never felt so impossibly small in that moment, rising to his feet and feeling how dangerous Patrick’s eyes were as he watched the little man.  Louis tried making his way to the kitchen, stumbling as he went, collapsed twice which only had Patrick screaming at him some more.

  Louis could hardly stand up straight to begin with, and while being forced to cook dinner over a hot stove, something is bound to go wrong.

  With his legs wobbling hard, Louis slipped, his knees caving in from underneath him and he came crashing down, a hand smacking hard against the handle of a boiling hot pot of water.  The water came spilling over the entirety of the kitchen floor, missing Louis’ fragile body but just a little.  That’s how Louis had ended up pressed into the fridge, scared for his life as Patrick stood before him, ready to strike.

  “What did you do?”  Patrick asked, his voice loud and his eyes wide, taking in the chaos Louis had created.

  Louis shook and whimpered, trying his best not to make any eye contact with his boyfriend, scared of what is to come.  It came impossible when he felt a hand clasp tightly around the back of his shirt and hoist him roughly to his feet, coming face to face with his angered boyfriend.

  “Did you not hear me?”  The other man snapped, pulling Louis with him to where the water started.  “What the hell is this?”

  Louis began to sob, his breathing irregular as he stumbles over his words, trying to apologize to Patrick who only became more infuriated with each mumble.

  “My god, can’t you do anything right for once?”

  Louis started to tug, trying everything he can get to out of the hold his older boyfriend has on him.  Luckily, Patrick let him go after a good couple minutes of fighting.

  Louis ran right for the bathroom, in desperate need to get away from his psychotic boyfriend. He quickly locked the door, not even realizing how shaky he actually was until it deemed difficult to even switch the lock.

  Louis finally managed to lock himself in and pushed himself up against the cupboards; bring his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself.  Louis sat in the bathroom for a while, his hands still a little shaky, but his breathing has slowly began to regulate properly again.

  He still felt scared though, terrified at what could have happened if Patrick did not stop himself.  In all the time the two has been together, Patrick had never laid a finger on him but the older man has a temper and Louis should have been prepared for something like this to happen at some given point.  Louis just kind of wished it never would.

  After what felt like forever, finally got up, his legs wobbling underneath him but he still was able to walk.  He left the bathroom and went right for his and Patrick’s shared room, searching for his phone until he found it.  His hands were shaking as he type out a message to his best friend, pleading for him to come and get him, and it was not long before Zayn showed up and started yelling at Patrick and quite nearly a fight broke out.  Although he may have put up a fight, Patrick reluctantly let Louis go, clearly not giving a damn where his boyfriend went.  Zayn wrapped an arm around Louis’ back and walked with Louis from the apartment.

  Over the course of the next couple weeks, Louis had managed to pack up all his belongs and moved into Zayn’s apartment, taking over the spare bedroom as his own.


  The patter of the rain kept falling on his t-shirt, he watched as the rain would trickle down his arms and directly on the ground in front of him. The laughter and the need of the feel of the cold, wet rain falling from the sky. Some would say that he was crazy, but others would say that he was the happiest person when he experienced his first rain of the season.

  He was barefoot, like usual, as he ran around in the pouring rain. He opened his arms and looked up to the sky as if he wanted it to take him away. He smiles widely and starts to spin as he kicks his feet in the puddles that had already started to form.

  The rain started to come down faster, if that was even possible, and he grew more excited. He ran and ran until he stopped and laid himself down on the cold, wet concrete. He kicks his feet up and squealed loudly. The rain could really change someone’s mood if they really wanted it to.

  This was the life of 19 years old, Harry Styles.

  Harry wasn’t always like this – or scratch that, he always was this way. He has always loved the rain, the feeling of it running down his skin and just the thought that it makes him happier than ever. Whenever it wasn’t raining, Harry was constantly sad. He wanted it to rain every day, even though he does live in a climate where it rains very often, but not enough, he wants the rain every day. If it wasn’t raining, and he was having a really bad day usually, he would spend hours in the shower; he would sit in the tub and just let the water fall effortlessly onto his wanting skin. He knew it wasn’t the same, but it was close enough.

  His mother was like any other mother, very concerned for her child’s well-being, but he wasn’t hurting himself so she just let him be happy. She did understand how much he loved the rain and just how much the rain changed him, but the thing she didn’t understand was the extent of it.

  The rain was his escape from the real world, his escape from reality, the only thing that made him happy. Harry wasn’t at all a depressed person, but when he came out to everyone, everyone changed. His so-called friends for years isolated him from the group and would push him around in the halls. They would snicker when they would walk by him as well as throw harsh words his way, and not to mention the extreme amount of bruises that would litter his body from being thrown into lockers.

  The rain was there as a friend when he needed the support. Anyone would think he is crazy, but the rain touched him like no one else ever did; it helped him in ways that no one else did. The rain was there when no one else was, when everyone gave up on him.

  Once Harry was finished with his enjoyment he walked his short distance home. He reached the house and noticed that his mother was already waiting for him with a warm towel. She puts it over his shoulders and tugs on it a bit.

  “Harry, you know you really need to tell me before you go gallivanting in the rain.”

  “Sorry mum, I was having an off day and I needed some happiness.”

  “I know Hun, but warn me please. I don’t want our neighbors to call the police again.”

  “They just don’t understand why I do it though.” Harry spoke with a frown.

  “I understand honey.” His mum tried to reason with him. 

  “No you don’t, no one will understand why I do it. It makes me feel free and that there is not a care in the world. Everyone thinks that I’m a crazy guy who runs around in the rain.”

  “Alright, well why don’t you get out of the wet clothes and take a nice shower so you don’t get sick.” She offered as he ruffled Harry’s wet hair.

“Okay,” He replied as he walked through the house and up the stairs. He takes his shower quickly and gets in his bed, lying down and looks up to the ceiling.

  No one understands me - runs through his mind like wildfire, he just wants a chance to have someone to change him, someone to be there for him. Someone to make him enjoy life. Someone to make him happy. But, more importantly, someone to there to be his rain when there is none to be found.