C H A P T E R    T H I R T Y O N E

Trembles and Truth

(18 days til' Christmas)

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                   BY THE TIME Harry heard the shower water cut off, he knew the decision he'd made was the right one. At this point it was a no-brainer, really. He just couldn't keep this a secret anymore. It was doing more harm than good, and either way, whether he told Louis or not, Louis was going to hate Harry. So he might as well just tell him.

                   Besides, he'd rather Louis hate him for the truth than because he thinks Harry and his family and Ed and the entire North Pole are crazy. He saw the carriage driver's ears after all. What must he be thinking?

                   Harry leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and press his face into his hands. He should have told Louis the truth a long time ago, should have never let them progress this far without him knowing that Harry wasn't even fully human. God. Why did he ever think this was a good idea?

                   At the sound of the bathroom door opening, Harry lifted his head. A small gust of steam followed Louis out of the bathroom before disappearing, leaving Harry's favorite human looking lonely as ever. It brought Harry to his feet immediately, stepping around the coffee table to meet Louis as quickly as he could.

                   His hair was damp but shaken up, like Louis had run his fingers through it a few times, and despite probably having been beneath hot water, he was pale as ever. Harry opened his mouth to just blurt the truth – no more beating around the bush.

                  "I hate Christmas," Louis breathed first.

                  Harry hadn't quite made it to Louis' side yet, so he stopped where he was a few feet away and closed his eyes. It's already too late. This conversation was about to go downhill very quickly. When he opened his eyes again, Louis was a step closer, he thought. "I know."

                  Louis tucked his hands into the pockets of his joggers and continued. "I hate it, because when I didn't..."

                  "Before your dad left?"

                  Louis pressed his lips together. "A year ago."

                  Feeling like he'd just received an electric shock, Harry stumbled backwards until he felt the sofa at his heels and sat down again.

                  The thing was, Harry knew there was always more that Louis wasn't telling him. This shouldn't be so surprising. Harry shouldn't feel like he hardly knew Louis at all, because he did, and he knew this was coming at some point.

                  Still, he found it impossible to imagine Louis not hating Christmas a year ago. It felt too close to now, and the man standing before him currently did not look as though he would have even entertained the idea of not loathing the holiday an hour ago, let alone a year ago. Especially after everything he's told Harry.

                  Louis took a few minutes to continue, and Harry decided not to interrupt or push him. He wasn't sure if Louis was giving Harry the time to process what he'd said or if he needed the time for himself, but it didn't matter. Harry wasn't going to speak. But after a moment of staring at his own hands, Harry lifted his gaze to check on Louis and found his nostrils flaring a little, sort of like he was angry.

                  He caught Harry checking on him and continued. "The last time I didn't hate it, I screwed up. Or..." He sighed. "No, it must have been me. Wouldn't make sense otherwise."

                  Who was he talking to? Harry or himself?

                  Furrowing his brow, Harry cleared his throat. "How could you... What is there to screw up?"

                  "A, um. A person? Or a...a relationship. Mine. And Adam's." When Louis said that name, he exhaled, and it sounded like he'd been holding it in for over a year.

                  There were a lot of questions that perched themselves at the tip of Harry's tongue, but he bit them back, kept his lips pressed together until he was sure he wouldn't say anything he shouldn't. Biding his time while Louis seemed occupied with his own mind, Harry sorted through the things he was most curious about and eventually settled on carefully asking, "Adam?"

                  Louis' shoulders hunched almost instantly; he's uncomfortable. But whether he's uncomfortable enough to stop talking or not is the real question, so Harry backed away until his heels bumped the sofa. He sat down again and touched the spot next to him, willing Louis to join him, to stop looking so...alone.

                  "I want to stand," he told Harry, whose soul deflated a little, but then Louis is continuing. "Don't be mad."

                  Harry shook his head immediately, almost embarrassingly fast. And there were a lot of things he wanted to say in response to that, but again, he tried to bite his tongue. "I could never... I won't be."

                  Louis finally met his gaze, and he held it for about three seconds before nodding once. His hands were clasped in front of him, fidgeting with his thumbs, a few of his other fingers, picking at his nails. "I met him my first day at uni. Well, first day of my third year. My mum was helping me move in, had just finished unpacking all my clothes and was beginning to put them away. You know how she is."

                  He looked like he wanted to snort at the thought, and maybe a corner of his lips twitched just slightly, but nothing reached his eyes.

                  "I went back out to the car to grab another load, and on my way back in this guy just... The hallway had been empty and then suddenly it wasn't, and running into him felt like running into a brick wall, if I'm honest. He caught my entire armful of shit, but I ended up on my ass."

                  "Adam?" Harry asked again.

                   Louis nodded, staring at something just above Harry's head – probably nothing. His eyes were far away. "Yeah. He lived down the hall. We didn't get on right from the off, but that was mostly on my end. I wasn't exactly the easiest person to know at the time. This was after the strip football incident. We started dating the day after Christmas."

                  Though he tried his damnedest not to, Harry's eyes fluttered shut for a moment. This couldn't be a very good story. He knew it wouldn't be going into it, but... It's always a bit of a shock hearing all the things that went wrong for one person during the same time of year, year after year.

                  When he opened his eyes again, Louis was nodding. "I know. Stupid, right? But he said he wanted to have three days of celebration in a row, so. And, you know? It worked for a while. We were together for three years, and by that last year – hell, maybe even the second year as well – I didn't hate the holidays at all. In fact, I looked forward to them somewhat. We were living together, got Dashing and Charming together. I just... I guess I eventually convinced myself that I didn't want to hate my own anniversary with the guy I loved and intended to marry."

                  Harry's lips parted. Louis' shoulders were hunched again under the weight of Harry's stare, but he couldn't stop, couldn't imagine...any of this. It's not that he didn't think Louis the type to marry, but wasn't it just a little while ago Louis had said he's the one who screwed it up? Screwed their relationship up? That doesn't sound like something someone who intended to marry their boyfriend would do. And it didn't sound like something Louis would do period.

                  Finally, Louis went on, probably grateful Harry didn't have anything to say about what he'd just admitted. "That last year, I decided we should spend Christmas with his family. Of course, I planned to propose on our anniversary. And though I'd met his family many times before this, it was the longest I'd spent with them all at once, so like...I really got to know them, got to learn more about their dynamics. Adam and I built a snowman with his young neighbors and cousins in their front yard – it was a fucking great snowman." Again, he looked like he wanted to snort or laugh or smile. It didn't happen. "Christmas itself went surprisingly well. Adam has a twin brother, Grant, who had recently been married to his high school sweetheart, Elise, and they seemed to really like me. It wasn't the first time I'd met either of them, but it had only ever been in passing. Quick greetings here and there, nothing more.

                  "I felt really at home there, which was important," Louis said with a breathy sigh, glancing down at his feet. "This had always been a time of year I just...I mean, you know. But celebrating it with his entire family and having them like me and liking them just as much, it was... It felt like the perfect time."

                  Louis paused here, almost like he was trying to kill Harry with the anticipation. He felt a lot of things in that pause, and he couldn't pick out or separate or identify any of those things. Part of him no longer wanted to know how this story ended.

                  "We were on a small bridge somewhere off a trail that starts in the forest behind Adam's house. We'd been walking. So I just – I didn't totally have a plan, I just knew I wanted to do it, so I figured I'd do it there. We were alone, and it was quiet."

                  If there was any doubt in Harry's mind about where this was going, it was gone now. He was standing before he'd consciously decided to, walking to Louis who was watching him tiredly. He threw his arms around him, pulling him into an embrace that might be inappropriately timed, but Harry didn't care so much. Louis returned it half-heartedly at best, but his chin rested on Harry's shoulder and he didn't back away.

                  "He said no," Louis mumbled, his voice soft and higher in pitch than it had been previously. He sounded young. "And I went home without him. Haven't seen or heard from him since."

                  Harry couldn't stop hugging Louis if he tried, and every horrible thing that's happened to his favorite human around Christmas or his birthday played like a montage in his head. His heart throbbed once, twice, and then broke when he realized he'd be adding another scene to the list. How could he do that? How could he hurt Louis again, after everything he's just told him?

                  So he does step away, pulling out of the embrace enough to look down at his feet. "I believe I owe you the truth as well."

                  Louis stepped toward him, closing the small gap Harry had tried to create. "I don't want to talk anymore tonight. We should go to bed, talk more tomorrow."

                  God, Harry would love that. "You have to know. Besides, I promised that if you told me your secret I'd tell you mine."

                  And so Louis hunched his shoulders again, shrinking into himself like he was preparing for the worst, for another broken relationship that he'll probably blame himself for, and Harry just couldn't...he couldn't yet. Not without saying something else first.

                  "First, I want you to know that it isn't your fault Adam said no. You blame yourself for him turning you down, and you shouldn't. He made that choice, not you."

                  Louis didn't say anything; Harry didn't think he would. He clenches his jaw and folds his arms across his chest, so Harry heaves a sigh and closes his eyes.

                  "I'm an elf," he said. Louis' eyes shot up to his, but otherwise there was no reaction. "Like a proper Christmas elf, as is everyone else here. Here, at...well. The North Pole."

                  A silence settled upon the room like a suffocating blanket, and it's heavy. It pinned Harry to the spot where he stood, and the only sound that could be heard was the firewood crackling every so often and probably Harry's heart racing.

                  But though he wasn't saying a word, Louis' face was beginning to change. His nostrils flared once. His jaw clenched again. Harry saw his chin tremble maybe for a split second, but then it was over, and suddenly the cool blue of Louis' eyes had become blue flames.

                  "Is this one of your jokes?" he asked. His voice was strained, scratching like he was trying to contain it. "Because it's really not one of your fucking best, Harry."

                  The ground felt like it was crumbling beneath Harry's feet. He opened his mouth to stop this, to take it back or to explain more, he didn't know, he just had to say something.

                  "Hats off for the timing though, really," Louis continued instead. "Bravo."

                  No. Please, no. Harry ran his hands through his hair, clenching it at the back of his head and turned away, pacing for a moment while he gathered his bearings. What will work best here? Logic? Begging? He would do either, he would absolutely do either.

                  "Come on, Louis. You saw the village and the outfits, the hospital. I know you saw the driver's ears." Logic first.

                  "Fuck you," Louis spat back. "This isn't funny."

                  No, no, no, no. He returned to where he stood just a step away from Louis, reached for him, gripped his upper arms. At this proximity, he could see that Louis' eyes were shining more than usual. Watering? "I know it's not funny," he tried. "I wouldn't turn this – your – situation into a joke. You know I wouldn't."

                  When Louis responded, his voice was less vicious. Still, he said, "You sound like a lunatic. In what world could I ever believe what you've just told me? In what world?"

                  Begging, then. "In this one. Louis, please – "

                  He pulled away from Harry like any direct contact had burned him. He turned to where his jacket had been lying, and Harry knew he couldn't do anything now. Louis was going to leave, because that's how he deals with things. He leaves and he might not come back, or he will despite not wanting to, and Harry will have to find him a train back to London. Because if Louis left, then...then Harry's done it. He's ruined everything.

                  Once his jacket is on, he steps around Harry toward the door. Harry won't turn around. He didn't want to see Louis go.

                  But even after the noises that accompanied Louis putting his boots on cease, the door didn't open. He's waiting.

                  Harry closed his eyes. "Follow the path to your right for about a mile. Turn left at the first fork. Keep going until you see a dark green house with dark blue shutters and a red door. It'll be on your right."

                  With that, Louis pulled the door open. Harry quickly added," He won't be home for another hour. Take my scarf."

                  And whether Louis took the scarf or not, Harry didn't know. The door clicked shut.