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article xxviii: the touch clause

relationship: harry styles/louis tomlinson (one direction)

tags: teen and up, no warnings apply, m/m, alternate universe, magical realism, guardians

summary:

Guardians were spirit companions that appeared, spoke, thought, and acted not much unlike their human wards. Oftentimes, they were also reverted to an age closer to their assigned wards equivalent in human years.

Harry had been waiting for his guardian since he was five, daydreaming about his fifteenth birthday and consuming guardian media - books, movies, news, blogs - for 'research'. When they didn't come on his birthday, he almost gave up hope of ever getting one. But when they eventually came, they weren't as Harry expected.

No amount of reading could have prepared him for Louis.

notes: so, i got out of my writing slump to do this... i write rpf now, apparently. this is where i'm at now. lol.

chapter 1: article iv: the ward

And I don't want the world to see me,

Cause I don't think that they'd understand.

.....

Harry was five when he learned about guardians.

It was a beautiful weekend. Dad had promised to take Harry and Gem out to the pier to go fishing, but Harry had gone down with a mild flu the night before. Dad took Gem, and Mum stayed to look after Harry.

“Mum?” Young Harry, perched on a stool, watching his mum slice berries for his yogurt, gazed up at her with huge, curious, green eyes. “What’s a god yawn?”

Anne’s brows creased for a second then cleared, having deciphered Harry’s words. She smiled, “Did you mean a guardian, baby?” Harry mouthed the word back a couple of tries to correct himself. “Where did you hear about them?”

“Gem,” he replied, shrugging. “It’s on her comics. She said she’ll let me borrow when I learn how to read. I argued 'cause I can read a little. But her comics have, like, lots of words on them. They make me dizzy, to be honest. But the pictures are lovely to look at!”

“Hm,” her smile deepened at his little anecdote, displaying dimples identical to Harry’s. She checked on the leek potato soup cooking in the pot first before putting a bowl of yogurt and fruits and a plate of beans and toast in front of Harry, sitting down to watch him eat. The boy picked a fork, scrunching his little, red nose and rubbing it with tiny fingers to try to alleviate the tingle. “What did Gem tell you about guardians?”

When he opened his mouth to answer, he got interrupted by his own sneeze. Sniffling and wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jumper, he grinned sheepishly at his mum. “Oops. Sorry, mum.”

Anne chuckled, adjusting the cooling patch on Harry’s forehead and kissing the top of his head. “Quite all right, baby.”

“Gem said she’ll get one when she’s older, and they’ll be like her invisible friend who’ll whisper in her ear if the pies at the school dining hall are fresh or stale.” He took a bite of his toast and continued, “Do you reckon I’ll get one, too, mummy? I don’t want to eat stale pies when I go to secondary school. My tummy gets upset easily, doesn’t it, mum?”

His mum couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I reckon you’ll get one, baby. You’re a very good, very sweet boy and you deserve a guardian who will steer you away from stale pies that will upset your tummy.”

“Do you have one, mum?” Harry raised an inquisitive gaze at his mother, an empty plate of beans and toast later. “Are they right here, and I just can’t see them?”

His question surprised Anne. Turning the heat down on the cooker, she sat back down with her son, smiling wistfully. “I had one, baby,” she said, “But our time was up, and they had to move on to another friend.”

“Why?” Harry, bless him, was affronted on his mum’s behalf. “But you’re the best. Why would they want to get another friend?”

“It’s not like that, baby.” She reached out to touch Harry’s pink cheeks. “It’s what guardians do. They become a companion for a number of years, and when you’re ready, they have to leave and become someone else’s companion. That way, everyone gets a turn and gets a friend.”

Harry frowned, processing the information. Even at his age, he understood the concept of fairness. His mum and dad always made sure they loved Gem and Harry fairly, giving them the same number of presents on Christmas. And Harry knew it was only fair that everyone got a turn, but people could also share. That was also something his parents made certain he and Gem did. For example, even though Gemma was eight and wanted more space for her clothes and comics, she still roomed with Harry because his dad’s office wasn’t ready to be converted into a bedroom. Too much work stuff, and his dad was fond of the wallpaper. Made him calm when he was working.

If Gem and Harry could share a room, why couldn’t people share a guardian? That way, no one had to be left behind. He told his mother so.

Anne chuckled again, running her fingers through his soft blonde hair. His hair was turning darker as the seasons went by and was starting to curl at the tips. Soon, it’d be a full head of luscious, brown curls.

“Guardians are only allowed one ward at a time, baby,” she explained. “You get one when you’re fifteen and they leave on your thirtieth birthday. Fifteen years is all we’ve got. Them’s the rules.”

Harry quietly harrumphs, clearly thinking the rule is rubbish. “But can we still see them when they move on to another, can’t we?”

His mum shakes her head, sounding every bit as regretful as she looked, “No, baby, I’m sorry. When your time’s up, you lose the ability to see them. And smell them. And hear them.”

“And hug them?” Harry’s wide, heartbroken eyes stared up at her, mouth pouting, lips a little wobbly. It wasn’t an easy conversation for Harry. He didn’t fully grasp the concept of guardians and what it was they were there to do, but he knew that if they were a friend of his, he didn’t want to just one day lose them completely. “Can I not hug them, too?”

With a soft voice, she told him, “That’s not an ability we have in the first place, love. We can’t touch them.”

His sad eyes turned even more upset. “But what if they need a hug, though? Or if I really need a hug? I always need a cuddle, mummy.”

Anne twisted their stools so they were facing each other properly. “Tell you what,” she started. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Are you ready?”

Harry nodded eagerly.

“The secret is to close your eyes, baby.” With the pads of her thumb, she coaxed Harry’s eyes close. “If your eyes stay open, you can’t help but want to see your point of contact. But there wouldn’t be any so when it goes through, the illusion shatters. So, close your eyes, Harry, and focus on the sensation. You’ll see, they’ll touch you where it matters.”

“And I’ll feel them?” Harry whispers, closing his eyes, and letting his mum brush the fringe from his face.

“Remember, baby,” Anne said, “It’s when there’s nothing to see, that there’s more to feel.”

.....

Harry was ten when his parents got divorced.

His dad was the only one who left the house, but it seemed he packed all their good years with him in a single luggage and drove off into the night. For the first few months, at least.

It wasn’t a bad divorce, per se, and neither was it abrupt. It was amicable in ways that most divorces weren’t.

The last few months of his parents’ marriage were spent in… uncomfortable silence. Harry was sure his mum and dad fought, more often than not, but they were considerate enough to contain it inside the privacy of their bedroom, far from Harry and Gem’s observant eyes and susceptible ears. But what they couldn’t see or hear, they felt.

It’s when there’s nothing to see, that there’s more to feel.

In the end, his parents didn’t hate each other, but they became indifferent. It was the lesser of two evils, so Harry would take the silence rather than any resentment they might have grown for each other the longer they stayed tied in a marriage that ran its course. Like this, there was a chance they would be friends again one day and he and his older sister wouldn’t grow tiptoeing around their parents because the other didn’t want to acknowledge the existence of the other without tasting bile in their mouths.

No, they were nice enough to sit Gem and Harry down to explain that they loved each other but they’d stopped being in love. Harry didn’t understand the difference, not really, but Gem nodded like it made sense so he reluctantly nodded, too. Mum said it didn’t happen to all marriages, but to them, nothing was as it was. They tried to fix it, his dad added, but when they looked for solutions, they only found more flaws. So, with their children’s best interest in mind, they decided to end it while they were ahead.

But that didn’t make the whole thing any less tough.

He was sure it wasn’t their intention, but Mum and Gem mostly wanted to keep their broken hearts behind closed doors they often left Harry to tend to his own.

“I’ll be at the office until the late hours, sorry, loves. Need to finish some reports. But there’s food in the fridge you can heat up for dinner. Ring me up when you need anything, all right? Be home as soon as I finish.”

“Hey, H, I’ll be over at Vi’s for an afterschool work. Do you think you can manage on your own for a few hours?”

“Hullo, Harry. I didn’t want to call in case you were resting. It’s the afternoon here, but it should be evening there. So… I didn’t want to intrude in case you were doing school stuff or have Niall over, or… yeah. Hope you’re doing well. I’ll call when it’s a better time for both of us, yeah? Love you, son.”

His mum threw herself to work and his sister spent all her time around friends. His dad called every day but he didn’t know what to say. When Mum signed a contractor to renovate Dad’s old office after he sent for his remaining things, Mum pretended she was thrilled to finally take the bland wallpaper down that his ex-husband was rather fond of more than was necessary, Gem pretended she was over the moon to finally have her own space, and Harry pretended he was fine on his own.

In the grand scheme of things, Harry really was, to be fair. He just wasn’t accustomed to having all the free time suddenly at his disposal. They had a family routine and then they didn’t. It was jarring, and he wasn’t as quick as Gemma or his mum to find something new to replace what he was used to.

He had friends, of course. Harry was quite the charmer, so he had all sorts of companions and acquaintances. They all expressed their sorry when they heard and Harry knew they meant well, so it only made him feel sorry that none of it really… helped.

Luckily, he had Niall, his best mate of all, who provided the comfort that his mum and Gem needed for themselves to cope at the time and couldn’t share with Harry. Mum and Gem didn’t always steer clear, too; sometimes they offered tense, apologetic, knowing smiles, and he appreciated it all. Really, he did. But when Harry was by himself in his room, in the dead of the night, he never wished to be fifteen and get his guardian more.

They couldn’t hold, that much he knew. But, at least, his guardian would be there to occupy a portion of all the empty spaces left in his room than just the coldness of distance and the gnawing sting of loss in his chest.

They’ll touch you where it matters.

.....

It was two whole months after Harry turned fifteen when he finally met his guardian.

Gem met hers three years ago and Harry had been jealous since. Her guardian’s name was Lucy and Gem claimed she was an actual, literal angel. Harry would argue about that – it had been made a point in every single book and article he read for research that guardians weren’t to be mistaken with Christianity’s concept of guardian angels. (“Don’t start, H.”)

They were similar in basic definition – spiritual beings assigned to protect and guide individuals – but guardian angels were, to simplify it, a religious myth while guardians were universally real. Of course, their origin and existence, and even the nature of their assignments remain mostly inconclusive even though scientists throughout the years have continually studied their phenomena. But the point is, only one of the two concepts can be logically verified by millions of people in the 15 to 30-year age demographic, and it isn’t guardian angels.

“God, Haz, I love you but chill out, okay? See what I have to deal with on a daily basis? I couldn’t wait for you to come since this one here learned to read and decided to be a walking news flash.”

Harry didn’t get a chance to verbalize how offended he was because Gem started going about the current article she was writing for the school page with her invisible companion and tuned Harry out.

It was the first week in forever when she acted less bratty during Dad’s weekly video chat update, so Harry really couldn’t complain. It was obvious how much Lucy’s presence positively affected his sister’s demeanor. There also had been many a stale pie that Gemma, and by extension Harry, successfully avoided because of her.

The night of Harry’s birthday, he waited impatiently for his guardian. He knew there wouldn’t be any dramatic entrance, Gem and the hundred storybooks and comics told him so, but he was still left watching the sky for any starburst signal at the arrival of his guardian.

When they didn’t come on his birthday, or the week after that, or an entire month after that, Harry gave up hope of getting one. He was assured multiple times by his family and friends, and a few online blog sites that sometimes, guardians took their time, for some reason or the other. When he asked his mum, dad, Gem, and even Niall about theirs, their hesitation on how to proceed with the conversation and the slight grimace on their faces were answers enough for Harry.

Theirs took no time at all, ranging from an hour to twenty-four hours delay after turning fifteen, so it obviously meant Harry was a defect. What else could it be when approximately seven hundred thirty hours had passed since his fifteenth birthday and zilch?

It stung, but maybe Harry was one of the unlucky few who never meant to have one. According to statistics, 1 out of 220,000 people surpassed age 30 without having a guardian in the past five centuries. Great. Harry was now officially a rarity.

“Maybe their chief guardian, or whatever, thought you didn’t need one?” Niall suggested one evening when Harry came over to rant about his misfortune again. “Like, maybe he flipped to your profile and figured, ‘hmm, this guy is emotionally and mentally stable enough for five people he would be offering therapy to his guardian.”

Niall snickered at his joke. Harry looked unimpressed.

“I dunno, Haz,” Niall sighed in resignation, “But I promise you’re not missing on an actual lot. They can’t grant wishes, do magic, time travel, or have any amazing superpowers. They just hang on your back and annoy you all day.” Niall turned an apologetic shrug to an empty couch in the corner of the room. “Sorry Frankie, only telling it as it is. You could’ve at least predicted I was going to get an F on my bio paper to make yourself useful, but no.”

Then Niall guffawed, presumably at his guardian’s reply. Right, so they had a banter now. Harry frowned at the empty corner where he assumed Frankie was sitting and got even greener with envy. He wanted that, too!

They weren’t coming and Harry figured, he had better live with it now than wallow in self-pity for the next fifteen years of his life. Let go of his dream of having one, never mind that he had waited for them since he was five.

So, when he woke up at midnight on the day that marked two months after his birthday with two pairs of glimmering blue eyes, one enthusiastic and the other borderline bored, watching him from the foot of his bed, Harry couldn’t be faulted for rousing the entire house with a full chest worth of scream.

...

“Tad dramatic, don’t you think, lad?”

“Shush, Lou! You’re upsetting him.”

Harry ignored the two figures lounging at the bottom of his bed to address the worried look from his mum and exhausted one from his sister.

“You can go now, mum. Sorry to bother you.”

Anne rubs one of his cheeks her thumb, “Not a bother. You sure?”

After a quick nod, Anne kissed the top of his head, turned to Gemma, and made the same affectionate gestures to her before shutting the door. A few moments later, another door opened and closed.

“Lucy says there’s a situation with you and your guardian. She won’t tell me what. How could that be when you just met, honestly?”

Harry threw a grateful smile at his sister and her guardian who was presumably behind her. “I’ll deal with it. I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay? You can go back to sleep, you look beat.”

Gemma rubbed her temple with a sigh. “Yeah, it wasn’t that long ago when I went to bed. Had to stay up late for a paper due next week.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“’S no problem. We’ll be off, then.”

As soon as Gemma was out of sight, Harry turned to the figures waiting patiently for his attention. Well, one of them was waiting patiently, the other looked like he couldn't wait for fifteen years to be over.

The fact that Harry was the only one who could see them, as well as Gemma’s guardian, made it obvious that one of them had to be Harry’s own guardian. He sure hoped it was the friendlier one.

“Sorry, I overreacted.” Harry started, wincing at the memory of his reaction. “I just… didn’t expect to get a guardian after all.”

The female guardian – long brunette hair, striking blue eyes, a kind smile, and a little mischievous aura – grinned and shrugged. “We didn’t mean to startle you, Harry. Also, sorry we’re a wee bit late. Hit a little issue on the way to you, but it’s all sorted now, no worries.”

Her companion disagreed with a loud scoff.

Harry glanced at the male guardian – light brown and auburn slicked-back quiff, same striking blues, thin narrowed lips, and standoffish aura – who was studying Harry rather closely. It was a little intimidating.

“Is it typical for a guardian to be deployed by another, like, senior guardian, or something? Like, will there be an orientation of some sort, some kind of blood compact ritual, or unbreakable vow that must be conducted first?”

Harry would pride himself on all the knowledge he picked up about guardians throughout the years of obsessively reading about them in preparation for his own. But this was throwing him off his lane. He had never come across any anecdote about a cold guardian. Some were more serious than others, sure, but no one said anything about getting a guardian who blatantly despised their potential ward.

Perhaps, Harry was a murderer in his previous life? Because this male guardian wasn't his biggest fan for some reason, and it would suck balls (not the fun sort) if he ended up being Harry’s.

The female guardian laughed, “No, silly. We already went through a thorough orientation, believe me. I can recite the codex front to back, cover to cover, with footnotes included. We’re all set for you.” She jumped then, remembering, “Speaking of, where are my manners, right? I’m Lottie and this is Louis.”

She gestured to herself then to his companion who was now brooding by Harry’s window, maybe rethinking all his life decisions that brought him to Harry’s room.

Then she quoted, “Article IV: The Ward. Section 4.5 states that: The ward is permitted to use three of five human physical senses, i.e. visual, auditory, and olfactory, in interacting with a guardian for the duration of the assignment. The practice of gustatory and tactile senses is improbable in metaphysical state and impermissible by the Guardian, the High Council, and the Codex. Violations of the rules stipulated in the Codex by any official or member of the consortium may result in Minor Demerits to the Capital Punishment. See Article XXVII for a list of infractions and corresponding punishments. And for extreme cases such that may conclude in the Capital Punishment, refer to Article XXVIII: The Touch Clause.” Lottie finished proudly, with a little bow and a twirl.

Harry blinked.

“We’ve been over this, Lots. That’s overkill.” Louis muttered after a weighty sigh.

Lottie was unaffected by his tone, though. Which, impressive. “I’d shake your hand but…” she trailed off with a giggle.

“...I’m Harry,” Harry replied belatedly and unnecessarily, eyes flickering to Louis who didn’t bother to face Harry for the introductions. “Which I figured you already know since you called my name earlier.”

Lottie giggled again and Louis rolled his eyes. “Yes, you would be correct. The first thing we learn about our ward is their name.”

“So… which one of you is my guardian, then?” He hesitated, then perked up. “Or am I supposed to choose? I never once read in my years of research about guardians that choice was something possible.” He mused to himself. “I can write about this in my History term paper.”

No amount of research could have prepared Harry for what he discovered next.

“Don’t get too excited, Harold.” Louis, arms crossed over his chest, bright moonlight spilling from the gap of the curtains all over his aloof self like a cliché, flashed Harry an annoyed look. “Isn’t it obvious? There’s no choice – not for you, not for us. We are both stuck with you.”

A beat of silence.

Then, “Surprise!” Lottie, somehow in possession of blue and green confetti from the pockets of her white dress, jumped happily at the reveal. “We came late, but we came doubled. Worth the delay, wouldn’t you say so Harry?”

At least, Lottie seemed absolutely thrilled. That made exactly one of them.

.....

#one direction #larry stylinson #harry styles #louis tomlinson #larry fic #real person fiction #i do this now #I DO THIS NOW #couldn't help myself #fics tag

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