Never had Harry been so tired as he and Louis opened the door to their hotel room in Manchester, England. The whole week was just a never-ending list of mistakes and misery, not to mention it rained wherever One Direction traveled.

Harry had to admit to himself that he was flat out tired of messing up; he already got beaten up online for so many things he didn't need his week turning on him either.

As soon as the door was open, Louis held it for Harry gesturing for him to enter before adjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder. Brushing past Louis, Harry entered the room that had a large queen sized bed in the center of it, and was surrounded by warm – yet dull – furniture that was supposed to make their stay feel "home away from home."

Dropping his bag next to the bed, Harry threw himself face down onto it, letting out a whithering sigh. If only the bed could swallow him completely, disappearing from the earth could possibly save his mind.

"Hazza?" Louis' voice quietly asked, breaking Harry's train of thought. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, you know," Harry mumbled in reply, feeling his throat beginning to thicken as tears pricked his eyes. Emotion welling up inside of his chest, he had trouble controlling the sobs escaping his mouth. "Just about everything."

He felt the bed dip as Louis climbed onto it so that he could lay beside Harry. Harry closed his tear-filled eyes as they met Louis' concerned gaze. A whimper escaped his dry lips as tears ran down his face and onto the blankets.

"Oh Hazza," Louis cood taking Harry's face in his hands and gently wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "Why are you breaking?"

Harry opened his eyes that were instantly flooded with tears to look at his best friend, the love of his life, his everything.

His voice broke, throat hoarse and dry, "I'm so tired."

Louis removed his hands from Harry's face; shifting closer to the broken boy who he would give the world to if ever asked. Louis enveloped Harry into a hug, tucking his arms around him, tangling their legs together.

Pulling Harry close, Louis quietly whispered into Harry's ear, "When you feel as if you can't go another day, in my arms you can always stay." Louis pulled back so that he could see Harry's face, gently bumping the tips of their noses before he pressed their lips together. Louis' lips soft and smooth lips glided over Harry's dry and rough lips in a chaste kiss.

Foreheads resting against each other, Louis held Harry as sobs racked the young, fragile boy's body. For the rest of the night, in Louis' arms, did Harry stay.