The shorter arm of the clock pointed at seven, seconds slowly ticking by as Louis chewed at the tip of his nail.

He had heard Harry come in over an hour ago, and when he had gone to greet the dominant, the man had shaken his head and walked straight into the gym. Louis shivered as he recalled Harry's expression, eyes bloodshot and jaw tensed, his whole body exuding anger.

His leg bumped into the counter again, he had lost count by now but he couldn't stop shaking it.

Another minute ticked by.

The one time Louis had disobeyed Harry, even then the dominant had not been this angry, and it scared him, not for himself but for the man. He worried what would have caused such a strong reaction.

The grunts and the continuous punching of the bag was a dead giveaway that Harry was trying to bury his anger away from Louis, not wanting to bring it between them.

He rushed to his feet when a loud scream full of agony made its way through the shut door.

"Harry..." he dropped beside the man. Harry was on his knees, head hung low and his knuckles bleeding, gloves nowhere in sight.

"Don't, Louis," the dominant's voice was scratchy, "Just go."

"I'm not going anywhere," he shakily held the man's hands in his own, blinking through his tears to see clearly, "Not when you are hurting yourself."

He looked up when he didn't get a response, only to find a tear rolling down Harry's cheek. A second later he had Harry's arms around him, tear streaked face pushing into his neck as heart-wrenching sobs left the man's lips.

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be alright, my love," he ran his fingers through his dominant's hair, not caring for the sweat or the blood staining his clothes from the man's busted knuckles, not when he clearly needed Louis. "I'm right here, it's okay."

He held onto the man, assuring him over and over again until his cries full of hurt were reduced to mere sniffles. It pained him to see Harry hurting so much, and having not the slightest clue what brought this on had his chest aching. He didn't know what to do.

What he did know was that Harry was always brave for him, and when his dominant needed him, Louis could be too.

"Hey, love, let's get your hands cleaned up. Hmm?" He pressed his lips to Harry's forehead, murmuring against them, "Will that be alright?"

A smallest nod of confirmation later, he stood up and kept his arm around Harry as he lead him to their bedroom and into the bathroom.

"How about a shower first, and then I'll bandage your hands?"

Still no answer, just a nod.

He started the shower and helped the man out of his clothes. Harry's face was void of any emotion, eyes closed off and his movements stiff.

He worked as quickly as he could, trying not to cry when Harry merely followed whatever he asked, going by the motions without a single word between them.

There was rip in the shirt, Louis noticed as he collected Harry's clothes, maybe from boxing while in his work clothes, or maybe from something else. He wouldn't ask that day. He kept the shirt aside and put others in the laundry basket before returning to the bathroom to help Harry dry off.

They sat on the bed facing each other as he took care of the bruises. Harry kept his eyes on him the whole time, not making a sound as Louis patched his knuckles up.

"There, now it won't hurt that much," he whispered, "I'll get you painkillers but you have to eat something first."

Harry looked away without any response, making Louis feel at a loss.

"Harry, I won't ask until you are ready to tell me. But please let me take care of you, love."

The dominant hung his head, shutting his eyes before extending a single hand. Louis took it, pressing a light kiss to the back of it.

"You do take care of me," Harry spoke after a while, moving closer and resting his forehead on Louis' shoulder.

They stayed like that, for how long Louis couldn't tell, but he eventually got Harry downstairs for dinner.

The dominant ate the bare minimum needed before taking the pill and heading back upstairs, leaving Louis alone at the dining table for the first time.

He lost his appetite as well, wrapping both of their plates with cellophane and putting them in the fridge.

The lights to their bedroom were switched off, the whole room swallowed in darkness, curtains drawn to shut the moonlight out as well.

Harry was awake, he could tell by his shuddering breaths when he climbed into the bed beside the man.

For the first time in their relationship, Louis felt helpless. His heart bled seeing Harry in such state. The anger the man showed had only been to mask whatever was hurting him, and now he was sporting a mask of indifference, keeping everything bottled up.

He knew he couldn't fix whatever it was in a day or two, it had to be something awful to make the man react like that.

He clenched his eyes when he felt tears birthing at the corners.

Harry was facing away from him, laying on the far edge.

Louis just wished he could take his pain away, however bad that might be. He would take away all of his pain in the blink of an eye, do anything to never have Harry feel an ounce of hurt.

But wish whatever he may, he did not know how to do it. He wanted to hold the man and keep him close, but he also wanted to give him his space. He wanted to know what was hurting him, but he was scared to find out.

He just wanted to help.

The whisper was so low that it almost drowned with how loud his thoughts were.

"Hold me, please."

And he did, wrapping the man in his arms, a knot around his heart loosening at the relief he felt. He vowed to protect Harry, however he could, to hold onto him for as long as he could, and then some.

They would get through this, not that day, or the next, but some day, and they would do it together.

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