A loud groan echoed through the room.

"Blooming legs," Louis muttered to himself, accent thick as ever. He was trying hard to get from the kitchen to the couch. But even a two feet distance had become a fight for him. A never ending struggle. His legs had almost completely stopped working.

Once Louis reached the sofa, he let himself fall down with a defeated sigh. His head was down, his shoulders slumped. Louis rubbed his fingers over the soft skin of his legs. He was trying to massage the muscles, trying to get them to stop hurting.

He'd taken all his medicine, he'd done his assigned exercises, but it didn't seem to help. Louis wanted to hold onto hope for improvement, but he feared there wasn't much to improve left.

You should know that Louis survived an horrible accident. It was a miracle, actually, that he got out of it breathing, not even paralyzed. But even though this was looked upon as 'lucky' by others, Louis didn't feel so lucky at all. He was still able to walk, yes. But was the shooting pain he felt along with it worth it? And what was the point if he couldn't walk longer than an hour a day?

His legs were damaged for good. There was no way for his limbs to get better, apart from small improvements in which Louis could train his muscles to work just a little longer. He'd accepted this, though, if only the pain would just stop.

He had good days in which he and his beloved boyfriend Harry would garden together or cook. They'd take short walks around the park nearby, go for an ice cream. On days like these, Louis felt good. Loved. Alive. But the bad days could really just slam him down twice as hard. On bad days, his legs would give out. He'd get weak at the knees and collapse all together on the cold, hard ground. Harry used to always be around to help him up. Lie him in bed or on their couch. Gently stoking the softness of Louis' cheeks, kissing him slowly. Harry would make him tea and read him stories that Harry had written himself. But whilst this brought joy and warmth to both of them, it didn't take away the fact that this was their life now. And that with all the energy and ideas that filled Louis' body and brain, he wouldn't be able to do them anymore, or at least not how he'd imagined them.

A frown formed on Louis' face. His living room had become so quiet and empty. With Harry gone, the house had stopped feeling like a home. Louis missed his smell, the sound of his footsteps, the curls falling before his green eyes. He missed Harry's singing and his baking. He missed his tender kisses. It felt so unfair. Harry wouldn't steal anything. He'd never threaten a soul, let alone with a gun. They were happy, the two of them. Harry would never have done any of those things. But.. Police arrested him anyway. Locked him up as a suspect. Harry lacked evidence to proof his innocence. It's a waiting game now. Waiting for the police to put the real story together.

Louis wiped a tear from his cheek and looked outside. The garden had turned dark and cold. All the flowers had died, and sadness washed over the ground. Louis loved gardening. He'd do it everyday. But with the condition of his legs, he needed Harry's help. And with Harry gone.. so was his ability to keep the garden nice.

Harry had been gone for almost two weeks. And Louis missed him so, so much. They had scheduled to plant potatoes in the first weekend of may, but just a day before, Harry was taken away.

Louis tried to do it himself, but he couldn't dig the holes. He didn't have the energy, his legs wouldn't let him. He needed Harry.

With all his power Louis tried to get up from the couch. He practically crawled over to the table, grabbed a pen and paper and started to write.

To: Harry

My sweet Harry,

The house feels so cold without you in it.. I miss you dearly. Please keep strong and come back to me. Because I miss us together and I miss us working in the garden. I've tried planting the potatoes, but it looks like I can't do it alone. If I could use my legs just a little longer, I could dig the holes, but it's simply too hard. I know you'd dig the plot for me if you were here. And I love you for it.

I hope you are okay. And I hope that you're treated well, despite everything.

Keep on fighting, my love. I believe in you.

Forever yours, Louis.

Louis put the letter in the envelope and licked it shut. He planned on posting it later, in the hope his legs would let him then.

---- ---- ----

"Mr. Styles," A heavy voice spoke, jolting Harry awake. He sat up, his eyes still half closed. Before him stood a policeman. A curious thing in hand. "There's a letter for you," the man spoke.

The envelope was slid though the jail-bars, landing at Harry's feet.

He picked it up and thanked the officer for bringing it to him.

Harry moved his thumb along the handwriting. He knew exactly who this was from. He moved his fingers to open the envelope only to find the letter had already been opened. Stupid policy. Didn't he deserve any privacy?

Only once the officer had walked away, Harry started to read.

A few tears had fallen from his eyes. Harry sat alone in his cell, innocent. The precious words warmed his heart as much as they tore it apart. He wanted to help Louis more than anything. He realised how much Louis needed him right now. Harry wanted to help. He wanted to make Louis feel better. To sing to him or bake his favourite cookies. Only if he could just help to take Louis' mind off his legs for a while.

Harry wiped away his tears and put the letter under his plastic-y pillow. Then he called over the first policeman he saw.

"Sir! Sir, please come here for a minute"

"What is it, Styles?" said a bulky man, disgust clear in his voice.

"I received a letter from my boyfriend," Harry said, holding back new tears. "May I please call him?"

The policeman sighed. "Can't you just write him back?"

"No, I want to call. Please," Harry's grip on the bars tightened. He couldn't bear to hear a 'no'.

"Fine," The officer caved. He opened the door and cuffed Harry immediately. "You do know, Mr. Styles, that we register -and listen- to all of your phone calls. So behave. Don't try any funny business,"

Harry took a deep breathe. He knew. And for once, this worked in his favour.

He had a plan.

---- ---- ----

A loud ringing disturbed Louis from his dinner. But his heart leaped at the thought of it being Harry.

He struggled to get the phone from the salon table. Then plopped back onto the couch.

"Please, please, please," he whispered as he held the phone close to his heart. It had to be Harry.

"H-hello? This is Louis," He stuttered out.

"This is Doncaster Prison. You're receiving a call from: ..'Harry'. Do you accept and with it our charges?"

There was a beep.

"I-I accept,"

Not sure if this was what Louis was meant to do, he waited for the next beep. The recorded message ended. The line went quiet. Had something gone wrong? But then finally, there it was. The voice he'd missed so, so much.

"Louis?"

"Oh, Harry," Louis sighed in relieve. "I'm so glad to hear from you! It's been so-"

"For heaven's sake, Louis!!" Harry yelled, cutting him off completely. "Don't dig up the garden!! That's where I buried the GUNS!!"

Louis eyes widened. What??

Louis wanted to speak, but words seemed to fail him.

"I love you, boobear," was the only other thing Harry said before he hung up the phone.

The line went quiet again, but Louis mind began screaming. Why would Harry bury guns in their garden? Why would Harry own guns at all? And why would he be so stupid to say that through the phone?

---- ---- ----

It was four in the morning. Louis was sound asleep. At least, he was until a loud and aggressive knocking interrupted his dreams. Furious ringing of the doorbell followed.

What the bloody hell was going on?

Louis fought his way to the front door. His legs made him feel so sad and powerless.

With his pyjama bottoms low on his waist and his baby-blue eyes filled with fear, he lay his hand on the handle. With trembling fingers, he opened the door.

"Mr. Tomlinson?"

"Y-yes?" Louis stuttered sleepily.

"I'm officer Larry, FBI. Please step aside,"

Before Louis could step aside or even process what was happening, he was pushed to the side and about ten other officers came marching inside.

"FBI?" Louis muttered, confused.

"Yes. We need to check your garden, sir. We have a warrant,"

And then it clicked. They were here because of what Harry said.

Louis felt his stomach start to burn with an urge to protect his boyfriend. He had to at least stand up for Harry.

"And you do this at 4AM?!" Louis asked annoyed, his eyebrows raised.

One of the officers turned to him and shrugged. He muttered a quick 'sorry' and ran after the other lads.

Louis followed, his legs already giving out.

His instinct was to scurry the men away and to yell at them for barging in like this. But instead he just stood there, barefoot in the grass. Watching several men dig up the garden.

It seemed like hours before one of the cops got up from the spot where he was previously digging holes and walked over to who seemed to be their boss.

"I can't find anything, Sir," he whispered, looking around. "I don't think they're here,"

The other man sighed, a grumpy frown appeared on his face. His eyes locked with Louis', before eventually looking down. His strange hand gesture signaled that it was indeed pointless to keep digging.

As if nothing had happened, several men got up and walked out. The early morning breeze cooled Louis' reddened, angry cheeks. He simply couldn't believe what was happening.

One man stepped over to Louis and offered his hand. Louis took it, his facial expression sassy and annoyed.

"We're really sorry, Sir. We had to search the garden for guns. Mr Styles, I believe he's your boyfriend? Well, he let it slip they were buried here. But there's nothing to be found. I guess your man likes messing around, doesn't he?"

"Yea, I guess so," Louis said confused.

"Anyway, our apologies,"

"I-it's fine, I suppose..," Louis looked around the garden. The moon lit up several holes and piles of soil. He feared what the garden would look like in daylight..

The cops left, but instead of going back to bed, Louis took out another piece of paper. He had to write Harry a letter.

To: Harry

My love,

I can't believe what just happened. The FBI came to our home and dug up the whole garden. They didn't find any guns, so why would you say you buried guns in the garden if there weren't? It scared me, babe. What was this all about?

Miss you and kisses,

Louis.

After three dreadful days, Louis received a letter in return from Harry. Even though Louis' legs couldn't really handle it, he jumped up like a happy eight year old. The letter even smelled like Harry.

To: Louis

Dearest Louis,

Go ahead and plant your potatoes. Now you don't have to dig holes anymore. It was the best I could do from here. I wish I could be there in person, but now I am a little after all. You can do it!

Love you forever xx

Harry

Louis' eyes were wide as they started to water at the letter in front of him. Harry had just risked everything to help him dig the plots for the garden. He'd just helped him from miles away.

What did he do to deserve such a loving boyfriend?

Louis curled up on the couch, holding the letter close to his heart.

That's when he realised that no matter where you are in the world, if you want to do something with all of your heart, you can do it.

True love goes beyond the farthest distance.

~(*-*)~ -(•-•)- \(^-^)/

Thanks so much for reading!! Once again, I didn't really come up with the idea of the whole story. But I made it longer and added some of my own ideas :D

Pretty please vote and comment?

Love you!!! <3