Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/955019.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Harry_Styles/Louis_Tomlinson
  Character:
      Harry_Styles, Louis_Tomlinson, Zayn_Malik, Niall_Horan, Erin_Goslin, Liam
      Payne, Nick_Grimshaw, Michael_Clifford, Gemma_Styles, Anne_Cox, Jay
      Tomlinson
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, Gay_Sex, Bartender_-_Freeform, larry_-_Freeform, Niam_-_Freeform,
      ziall, ziam, kiss, Kissing, First_Kiss, Rimming, Anal, blowjob, handjob,
      stylinson, larry_stylinson_-_Freeform
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-05 Words: 59391
****** Falling for the Bully ******
by AleynaIsiik
Summary
     Innocent Harry has caught himself in love with a sinner. This sinner
     is something different though; all about shameless smirks, filthy
     personalities, homophobic characterized and, not to mention an
     absolute gorgeous face.
     In other words, poor Harry's fallen for his bully.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
 
 
"Did you eat your sandwich?"
"Yes mum, I have to go! I'm going to be late!" I whine, looking over at the
clock on the wall that hits 7:35.
"It's not even late, how come you're so rushing?" Mum questions, tilting her
head.
"I have to pick up the papers from the office-the ones I told you about the
bursary." I say, adjusting my black and green plaid tie. "Don't forget to wake
Gemma up, she's already missed a lot of classes." I add, kissing her on the
cheek.
"Okay baby," She mutters behind me, her voice sounding somewhat worried but I
don't bother questioning.
"Bye," I smile and head towards the sidewalk. Hearing the door shut behind me,
I swing my book bag over my shoulder and hold the heavy text books by my side.
Taking a deep breath, I exhale it back out. This is it...
I always loved school but the people I got to see in it...not so much. Just the
thought of another day passing by with me ending up alone in the cafeteria or
not having anybody to pick me as a partner when the teacher would call out just
makes me feel bereaved. Even though I am actually used to it, since it's been
this way for six years, I still wish everyday for somethings to change.
 
>>>
 
Picking up the bursary forms and other reflection papers from the office, I
walk to my locker with the book Perks Of Being A Wallflower in my hand, my eyes
focused on the writings. I had taken the book out from the library and heard
good comments about the book so I thought why not I give it a try. I guess you
can say I'm a reader. I really do love to read and no matter how cliche it
sounds it's actually true; reading a book can take your imagination to places
you'd never thought existed.
Just as I flip the page, a hand slams the book dropping it on the floor. And I
already know who the culprit was. Louis I'm-the-fucking-boss-around-here
Tomlinson, shocker...
The usual smirk is plastered on his face. I take a deep breath through my nose,
slowly and patiently lean down to pick the up the book. But like I expect, soon
enough, he simply kicks it towards the lockers. My hand freezes on the floor. I
close my eyes shut, mentally telling my self to stay calm and not make a wrong
move. A wrong move and the next thing you know, I am surrounded by all of his
bully friends.
Licking my now dry lips, I open my eyes. I don't get up from my leaning
position as I slowly turn around to pick the book up again but am interrupted
by a bone chilling holler.
"Oh god," He trails on laughing. "You're such an idiot." He adds between his
laughs, before turning around the hallway, leaving me with in the same place
listening to his unamused laughter.
Now this is what I had to deal with everyday. He is what I had to deal with. I
don't know why he does it but I guess the fact that I don't show any reaction
to his behaviour is the reason. To be honest, I never understand what I had
done to deserve this type of treatment, but I've grown to ignore it day by day.
The bell rings and I compulsorily make a beeline from the lockers and enter the
class. The usual routine continues, already having the crumbled papers thrown
at me. I don't respond to them as I just take my seat, trying my best to
neglect the comments and the crowd's laughter. Setting my book bag beside my
seat, someone pokes my back startling me from my thoughts.
"Styles!" A familiar voice calls behind me.
Slowly, I turn around afraid of what's coming for me. Right away, another
crumbled paper meets my face and I'm so close to speaking up,
but obviously don't because I'm a fucking loser, as I am told.
Louis, at the back laughs. Leaning back to his seat, he crosses his arms over,
the smirk on his face still there. Can you say douche? I find myself watching
him pull out his phone and focus on it. His white collared uniform fits him so
nicely, the dark green and black tie just making him look even much better-if
it is possible. I always wonder what it would be like if maybe, just maybe, one
day Louis felt something for me and decide to tell me... but he would never. He
is the star of the football team, always getting the most attention from the
crowd. Of course I know this, I never miss his games. I always go in a bit
later and make my way to the top of the bleachers and observe Louis. Watch as
he would get all sweaty, his fringe matted to his forehead. When he would lift
his shirt up to let the breeze cool down his warm skin. And those tattoos that
cover his arms... The way his friends would tackle him on the ground, making
him-
"Take a picture Styles. It'll last longer," Louis smirks as I quickly turn
around, hoping god I wouldn't blush. I try to stop the heat that's rushing from
my cheeks but it's inevitable. I bury my head in my folded arms, trying to
drown out the loud, irritating laughs of the class.
Moment's later, Mrs. Urban finally manages to enter the class. Lifting my head
up, I sniff as I watch her pick up a white chalk and write on the board.
'Partner work due the 18th, worth 30% of final mark' is written on the board.
I hate it when we partner up, because like I had said, I always end up working
alone and have rude comments thrown at me about how I could never get someone
to work with me and the person behind the comments is none other than Louis of
course.
"As you can see," Mrs. Urban points at the board. "There's a project I've
assigned for you guys. You need to get in partners-wait no actually," She drags
on, looking at the paper in her hand. "I've already chose your partners."
Great.
A trail of whining students scatters the room as frown appeares on everybody's
face. Girls frowning, obviously wanting to be with their friends.
"But Ms why can't we pick our own partners?" One of the De'l Faggelo twins from
behind asks.
"Eva, hunny because I want to see you work with others, not just Ella." Mrs.
Urban smiles.
"Okay back to the project," She claps her hands. "You and your partner will
pick a topic, it could be anything and both of you will disguss whether you
disagree or agree to the statement and write a full essay, explaining why.
You'll be presenting this next week so I suggest you start your researches by
tonight."
Before you know it everyone's groaning, muttering words about what if they'll
end up with me. Listening to everyone's ideas about the project, I hear Louis
talking to one of his friends, behind me.
Turning my head around slightly, I look over my shoulder to see Louis' hands
stretched out to the back, leaning on his elbows, laughing at his friend's
words.
He catches me staring and elbows his friend as a smirk curves on his lips, his
eyes dig into mine, intently laughing..
"As for your partners!" Mrs. Urban interrupts making me turn my head to focus
on her.
"I have all of your names written in this jar, each and every one of you will
get up and pick a name. The name you pick will be your partner." She sets the
jar on her desk, crossing her arms over her chest.
A chorus of confused kids speak up causing the volume of the class to increase.
"Shh!" Mrs. Urban gestures with her hands to lower the volume. She stands up
straightening her self before walking towards us once more.
"Nick we'll start with you." She points to the brown haired boy sat at the
front of the class.
He shrugs his shoulder to his friend sitting across him before standing up and
looking around the class  only to receive a few words of encouragement.
Nick digs his hand into the jar, and unfolds the tiny paper, his brows slightly
clouching.
"Katie!" His eyes glistenes with joy after looking straight at his girlfriend,
Katie.
The blond haired cheerleader stands up from her chair and skips towards him,
finger twisting one of her neatly done locks.
"Alexa, get up." Mrs. Urban orders as the red head gets up, cockily.
The partner picking goes on most satisfied with the partners they're given and
a few people with frowns masking their faces.
"Louis, your turn."
My head lifts in a milli second making the nape of my neck a bit sore.
I watch intensely as he stalks forward a grin on his face. He digs his hand
into the jar, confidently winking at Mrs. Urban earning cheers from the crowd.
Cockily, he takes out a paper and unfolds it, the smirk still on his lips.
My heart feels like it's about to drop, my eyes focus on his action.
He stares at the paper, the smirk slowly fading away.
"Who is it?" Mrs. Urban asks happily.
"I'd like to choose another paper." Louis claims, and I already knew who he
chose.
Mrs. Urban snatches the paper away from him. "Harry."
My eyes dart back at Louis whilst he throws his head back, a loud groan
escaping his lips.
Everyone starts to do the usual and laugh whilst others pat on his back acting
as if I have an infectious decease or something. Retards.
Louis takes his seat, his eyes shooting death glares at me as if I planned
this.
"Hey baby, why the sad face?" A very beautiful blond gets up from her seat and
takes her seat on Louis' lap. Does she not see that there's a perfect, stable
seat behind the desk? Couldn't she just sit there? I can't help the scoff that
leaves my lips. I just hope none notices it.
Louis doesn't reply her, but that doesn't stop the man-eater Sarah from putting
her hands on each side of Louis's face. "At least you'll get an A on the
project," she purrs before smacking her red painted lips on Louis'. I'm in
shock as everybody in the class hollers. Louis just as much as reciprocated.
Anger boils in me and I try so hard not to walk over there and pull back the
bitch by her fake blond hair.
I shoot daggers at the pair and as if some sort of pull, Louis' eyes flash open
and stare straight into my own.
I quickly look away but do not miss him pushing the blond off of him, saying a
quick, "Yeah I think you're right." Something that I'm not sure happens but he
covers it quickly by laughing. None but me notices just how fake his laugh is,
as everybody joins his laughter, Ms. Urban clearing her throat to end the
commotion.
>>>
I peak at the clock on the wall across me tick whilst packing up my books and
placing them in my bag.
This is the last period, only class me and Louis don't share.
The bell finally rings and I swing my bag over my shoulder ignoring the
teacher's 'don't forget to do this and that tonight' comments because I had
already finished it during class.
Walking to my locker, I try to keep my head down incase of any tripping or
locker shoving.
Arriving at my locker, I open it and take out three text books placing them in
my hand. Putting the ones I don't need back in the locker, I close it shut.
Turning around, a hand meets my books, slapping them for the second time,
making them drop all over the floor. Here we go again...
Seriously?
Looking in front of me, I am not surprised at all.
"Pick them up, you're going to need them for the project." He grins, standing
aside, crossing his arms over my favourite faded jean jacket of his.
I lean down and pick up the books one by one, holding them tight against my
chest. Turning around I find him still on his feet, staring at me with a
playful look.
I step to the side and so does he. I step to the left, but he just blocks one
more time. Not saying, anything I try my chances again and step to right but he
blocks once more.
"How come you never talk?"
I stare, clueless of what to do or if I should speak just so he could leave me
alone.
He frowns, realizing I'm not going to speak, and leans closer, his knee
brushing against mine, and oh Gosh I've never been this close to him. His blue
eyes are boring into mine and I make no effort to move.
"Talk," He commands harshly, and it somewhat makes me feel good about myself.
Having him bully me sure did have its perks, I mean how else could I get so
close to him without making it awkward?
Soon he realizes I won't be talking because he rolls his eyes and takes a step
back. I mentally frown at the loss of contact.
"My car is outside, we can go to my place and you can finish the essay there."
He mutters, digging his hands into his jacket's pockets, walking ahead.
I find myself forgetting how to breath for half of a minute.
Is he seriously inviting me over to his house? The person he hates more than
anything?
He turns around. "Are you coming or not? I don't have all day." He says harshly
and eventually I follow behind. 
His back is turned to me and I take this as an opportunity to punch the air and
sheepishly smile at his retrieving back.
Maybe for once me and him would actually get along. Maybe..
 
 
__________________________________
 
 
Twenty three minutes of pure silence and awkwardly looking through the window
of his car, Louis finally pulls up by a three floored marble house.
"We're here." He says, looking at me through the front mirror.
I was sat at the back seat, I didn't bother questioning where to sit just in
case he'd mock and pull a sarcastic joke which I wouldn't even consider funny
at all.
Picking up my book bag which was placed next to me, I open the door and step
outside also watching Louis' actions as he joins me on the side of the car.
He doesn't mutter a word or gesture where to go and simply walk towards the
house. I follow behind knowing how awkward this seems. Stopping infront of a
tall brown door, he rings the bell and the door opens revealing a teenage blond
girl. I lick my lips nervously as Louis enters the house.
"Hi bro." The girl says standing aside the door as I also enter. "Everyone's
gone to the Morgan's banquet, we're the only one's home." She adds before
walking off to who knows where.
Louis does not respond, he takes his jean jacket off and carelessly throws it
on a couch. Turning around, he faces me, looking like he just came back from
the funeral.
"My room is upstairs the first door on your right, go and I'll meet you there."
He says, literally no emotion on his face. "Oh and don't touch anything, just
sit down-or you can stand I couldn't care less." He shrugs one shoulder and
turns around exiting the hallway.
Sighing, I walk up the stairs and look at the first door on my right and there
it was. You could tell it was Louis', huge poster of a punk rock band was taped
on the door and a big red octagon sign that read "No girls aka Lottie, Georgia,
Fizzy, Daisy & Phoebe!"
They're all his sisters, I remember seeing them at parents' interviews and city
carnivals.
I open the door, and step inside, looking all over the large room. It was
pretty big, bigger than mine. Taking off my bookbag over my shoulder I hold it
in my hand, clueless of what to do. The picture frames on the scarlett walls
are what captures my attention. Slowly walking to it, I see some family photos
and a few familiar baby photos of Louis I've seen in the year book of eight
grade. My eyes travelling across the walls, I see a photo of Louis and one of
the twins with Santa Claus probably taken during Christmas. I can't help but
admire his captivating smile and his piercing blue eyes that look extra
gorgeous in the picture.
"What're you looking at?" I hear a voice behind me and I quickly turn around my
stomach doing a flip.
I don't respond as I swallow a thick saliva, my hand nervously shakes.
"I told you not to touch anything." He says harshly staring at me, and you can
just read the hate through his eyes.
I look at the ground, then back up to his eyes. Biting the insides of my
cheeks, I gulp one more time and open my bookbag thinking it was the only way I
could stop him from saying another heartbreaking phrase.
I'd rather do this stupid project all by myself, than hear him spit out words
that mean nothing to him.
I see him sit down on the floor against the wall, and take his phone out.
Taking my notebook and a pen out, I open the notebook and start the
brainstorming.
"Aren't you going to sit?" He glares.
I look around, and there's not a seat available, just a blue rolling chair by
his laptop, but I don't bother taking a seat on it.
"You can sit on my bed if you want." He mutters, not taking his attention off
of his phone. I awkwardly walk towards it and sit on the bed, crossing my legs
over. Holy shit, I might pass out any moment now.
"The laptop's on the side just incase you'll need it." He adds.
I freeze.
Was he..was Louis Tomlinson being nice to me?
Slowly turning around, I see the Macbook and reach for it on the night stand.
It was already turned on. Placing it in front of me on the bed, I type in
"www.google.com" before looking up to Louis.
Noticing his eyes were still focused on his phone, I have no choice but
interrupt.
"I think our topic should be about the equalities of gender. We can talk about
how gay's and lesbian's are treated unfairly by the society," I say it so fast,
that Louis' head lifts up in a swift move, watching me confused.
He looks at me like I've just grown two heads. I shift a little
uncomfortably. Is there something on my face?
Louis keeps staring at me until I ask, "What?"
As if he was just under a spell, he shakes his head, once dazed eyes turn cold
again.
"Why? Are you gay?" He asks, an aggravating smirk on his lips.
"N-no." I stutter, making it so damn obvious.
"Are you sure?" He raises an eyebrow, smiling playfully.
Ignoring him, I turn back to the screen of the Mac book and type in "Gay
rights." Since it was the only thing that came to my mind, after Louis' freaky
question.
I see him get up and slowly walk toward me, I lick my lips as I force my
fingers to type in words. But damn fingers fail me as they shake furiously.
I feel Louis stop beside me, and I can't believe this is happening right
now. Will he kick me out of his house or worse... beat me up?
He -very slowly- runs a finger down my jawline, brushing it against my lips
then my chin. What is he doing?
This is a dream right? I am dreaming. Definitely... that's it I am just
dreaming. But why the hell is he still touching you dipshit, my conscious asks
me rather rudely. This is not time to argue with my insane mind.
I slowly lift my eyes as I watch Louis lean in, resting his hand on my
shoulder. Please let this be a dream God or I will drop dead any moment.
"What-what are you doing?" I ask quickly, dazed and nervous by his unusual
action.
"Do you feel anything?" He whispers, coming closer and closer to my face. My
eyes fall down to his pink plump lips and oh god why does this feel like a
dream?
I look back at his eyes and his hands slowly travel to my cheek, then my ear -
where he slightly tickles- to my locks. Oh please God I want to die now. Will
he bang my head to wall until I die? Ohh I hope not. But why am I getting
excited by his actions at the same time?
I close my eyes and pray that he won't bang my head to the wall like my mind
worries he would. Instead of a head banging a wall, all I feel is his big and
rough hands massaging my skull. What the freaking hell is going on? Am I in
some sort of tv shows where they prank foolish people? But I have to admit what
he's doing to me feels great. I bit back the moan that tries to escape my mouth
when he tugs at my strands roughly.
"W-what are y-you doing?"
I don't receive an answer from Louis. Instead, he traces his hands slowly back
to my face then to my uniform collar.
I gulp as he takes a hold of my tie and loosens it before sliding it off my
collar.
I know I should push him off me. He is not gay and I know he is only doing this
to tease me. He will probably tell his friends all about this at school as they
laugh and make fun of me. However, a small part of me couldn't, wouldn't just
push him off or get back away from him.
Louis is in his own space as he trails his hands down to my uniform covered
chest and slowly pushes me backwards on his bed.
I gasp, feeling the breath leave me.
Placing one knee beside my chest, his face leans down, and stops in front of
mine. Fuck fuck fuck... I am done, I am so done. I will never hear the end of
this.
Louis looks from my left to my right eye, the pattern continuing and his the
corner of his lip curves up. "Yeah, you're definitely gay," he says and just
like that, he is off but still sitting beside me, I am an emotional wreck,
trying to understand what just happened.
A twig of anger washes me as I feel insulted with the way he said those words.
Turning my head slowly to side, I give him the sting eye before whispering,
"Get off of me!" My voice is stern despite coming out so low.
His head snaps and there is a confused look on his gorgeous face. Not even
thinking twice, I get up to sitting position on the bed and roughly push his
chest and shove him to the side of the bed. He falls down with a strong thud.
Shit, now he will beat me up for sure.
I am frozen in my place, scared to even lift myself off the bed to check if he
is alright. The only thing that's going through my minds is the fact that once
he get up, he will kill me, then probably dispose my body in to some rubbish
behind his house.
"Lou-Louis... Are you alright?"
I hear no voice, and that makes me even nervous. What if he hit his head? Oh
God, I am too young to go to jail! The boy is lying dead on the floor and all
you care about is going to jail? My conscious asks, disappointed.
"LOUIS?" I ask firmly now an will my body to jump off of his bed to check why
he still isn't up.
Holy shit, is he unconscious? Oh my God I gave him a concussion. What the hell
did I do?
I quickly crouch beside Louis and shake him calling out his name, "L-Louis wake
up. Louis please wake up."
I feel my body shake, scared as hell. Please Louis be okay. I don't know what
to do as I look around the room.
I look back to Louis, his eyes closed as if he is sleeping. God, he is so
beautiful. I wipe away a strand of his hair that falls on his forehead and cup
his cheek.
"Louis please wake up. Please...get up. I don't want you to die because of me."
I plead, as I feel my eyes get watery.
I sniff and wipe away a tear that escapes my eye. Oh god, oh god, it's all my
fault.
Call the damn ambulance, my voice of reason reminds me and I ship my pocket for
my cellphone with my hand that's not shaking Louis awake.
Just at that moment, I feel hands holding both my wrists.
"You crying for me Styles?" Louis asks a very amused expression in his face,
and I am shocked, frozen on my spot.
Louis smirks and realization washes over me like a bucket of ice cold water.
I sniff, and can't help but let the tears fall as they please. I am so angry
and happy at the same time. He is fine...Louis is fine.
"You...you pig!" I cry as I start pounding my fists on his chest, wanting to
hurt him for scaring me like that. "You scared me... so much." How can he be so
cruel? I was so scared, I could've died.
"He-hey now stop... Stop Styles!" Louis demands and get a hold of my hand
again. "Stop hitting me god damn it. "
I sniff, wanting to hit him again and again but am strained.
And just then, I realize just how close we are, face to face, my hands in his,
while I breathe heavily and my eyes blurry because of the tears. I don't even
remember when I straddled him. Shit, I curse.
As we stare each other, I watch as Louis' stern face turns into one of soft and
he lets go of my left hand. I am stunned in place as I keep sniffing and trying
to hold back the tears from spilling anymore.
Louis uses his left hand and brings it to my forehead, my eyes trailing his
movement. I feel him brush couple of locks that fall over my forehead before
cupping my left cheek.
"Styles get off me before I do something you'll regret," and just like that he
is back to being cold Louis. I feel a shiver run down my spine imagining him
beating me up for hitting him like that. Jeez what's wrong with me and thinking
this guy is out there to get me.
I quickly get up. Louis does the same, straightening the wrinkles on his pant.
I watch him quietly as a question pops into my mind.
"Can I ask you something?" I quickly ask without even thinking and curse at how
stupid I am for not being able to hold my tongue. I lick my lips.
"Oh go on." He nods, amused.
Do I say it? After six years of not talking back and keeping my thoughts to
myself, do I finally ask him?
Hell yeah I am.
"Why do you enjoy doing this? Why do you enjoy hurting my feelings?"
"Hm," he sits back on the ground, bringing his knees up to his chest. "Why do
you think I do it?"
I pause. Shrugging one shoulder, I look at my feet and uncross my legs, placing
my foot on the ground. "You're a bully. You don-"
Deep chuckles escape his laugh. "Bully?" He asks, with an amused look.
"Yes. Bully." I nod, taking this seriously unlike him. "You're a bully, you
like to hurt people. You like to tease and make fun of them for no reason.
That's what bullies are." I state watching the amused look on his face quickly
fade away.
He presses his lips together, looking at the ground, then play with his thumps.
"What?" I ask. "Never thought of it from that way?"
He lifts his head up and we both stare at each other. A strange, new look
plastered on his face. He looks worried.
Even though I hated him for being such a jerk to me, I could never dislike this
boy.
"No." He says looking down.
He looks up at me, probably noticing my confusion.
"No, I haven't thought of it that way." He simply adds.
"It's been six years, come on." I say unbelievably.
"Six years?" He repeats, surprised.
"Yeah since sixth grade. Remember first day of school?" I ask, about to bring
up a new topic that's always been very important to me.
"No," He shakes his head.
"You, Michael, George and those other kids? Throwing away my lunch? Breaking my
bike? Do they not ring any bell to you?"
"Ohh!" He drags. "I remember!" A loud laugh bursts out, and he smiles at the
wall probably having flashbacks.
"Seems funny to you right?" I ask, not tiny bit shocked by his unpleasant
reaction.
He clears his throat, and sit up straight.
"You talk a lot, why don't you type instead... you know, the essay you're
supposed to finish?" He changes the subject and I roll my eyes.
I feel a buzz in the pocket of my jeans, startling me from my deep thoughts.
Shrugging the intensifying feeling growing in the pit of my stomach, I took it
out, the screen illuminates with the words.
Text From: Gemma 
- It's passed 8! Harry mum's getting worried!
I bite my lip, and respond for an answer.
"What? People actually text you?" Louis comments sarcastically, obviously I
ignore it as I've said before; I've grown to get used to his rude comments.
Sending an "I'll be home in a few don't worry." text to Gemma I look up to
Louis.
"Was that your mum?"
I ignore.
"Aw it's passed your bed time right?" He pulls a fake frown.
Watching him mock me, I shake my head. "Does this pleasure you?"
"Hell yeah, why else am I smiling?" He grins.
Oh how I wish I could wipe that grin off of his face.
"But why? I don't understand how you could enjoy hurting another human's
feelings, it so sick!"
"Okay let's say I am a bully-"
"Which you are."
"What ever," He rolls his eyes. "Up until now, how come you've never actually
spoken up for yourself? You never ever say something back or snitch on me or
the others. Why?"
I stare at him blankly but quickly respond. "Because i'm not as low levelled as
you or 'the others'. Plus after six years, you get used to it."
That shuts him up.
After staring at him waiting for an answer, I -at last- turn my head and look
at the Mac book's screen, trying to work on the essay but unfortunately the one
and only thing that I could think about was how I actually -after six years-
spoke back to Louis fucking Tomlinson and caused him to stay speechless.
Well done Harry, well done.
"So we're doing equalities of gays, I need to know if you support them." I
state, also taking this as an opportunity to find out how he would react if
maybe one day I'd have the guts to confront to him.
"As long as they're not near me, I'm okay with them."
Ouch Louis..
"Why do you say that?" I ask curiously right away. I see him pause confusedly,
"Erm, I need to write down all of our thoughts and opinions so yeah..go on." I
clear it up.
"You've got a really raspy voice.." He says off topic, his voice surprised.
"Okay.." I don't know whether to be happy or offended. "You need to tell me,
it's getting late and my mum's getting worried." I tell him, checking the time
on my phone which says; 8:42pm.
"What time is your curfew?" He asks.
"Seven the latest. I need to leave." I say as I shut the laptop, and place the
books back in my bag.
Readjusting my tie and fixing it, I see Louis from the corner of my eye smirk.
What an evil boy he was.
"I'll get the essay done by Friday, don't worry." I react knowing he was going
to ask me to finish it.
"Aren't you coming back tomorrow? We didn't really have time to start
anything." Louis moisturizes his lips, surprisingly sounding concerned.
"It's fine, I'll finish it myself." I respond.
He opens the door and I step out behind, following him down the stairs to the
front doors.
"Lottie?" Louis yells, over his shoulder.
"Yeah?" A girly voice comes from somewhere in the house.
"Nothing, just checking." Louis smiles to himself as I swing my bag over my
shoulder and reach for the doorknob at the same time Louis does. His hand
placed on the back of mine we both pause.
"I-I'll take it." Louis stutters and I let go of the knob.
He opens the door and I step out noticing the darkness outside. Holy shit, mum
is probably freaking out so bad right now.
Not bothering to say anything I hold my grip on the bag tight and walk on the
sidewalk, very confused about where I was heading at.
I hear Louis' door shut with a slam and I slip my hands into my pockets,
remembering his touch on my hair and the little prank he pulled on me. Despite
the mocking and teasing, today sure was a blessed day.
Continuing to walk, hoping to spot a bus, I hear a loud honk behind me. I
slowly turn around not sure if the honk was meant for me. Holding my hand on my
forehead to block out the bright light shining on to my face.
The car's speed slows and I can feel my heart beating faster than it's normal
pace. The car's window slowly slides down and I take small steps back just
incase a murderer hops out and next thing you know my body parts are thrown
into a lake.
A head pops out of the window and God damn it, it's only Louis.
Wait.. Louis?
"Want a lift?" He grins all casually.
"It's okay." I say, turning around and continue walking.
I see the car slowly drive beside me. "It's dark and you don't even know where
you're going." He says, looking at me then back at the road.
"I'll catch a bus-why do you care anyways? You hate me remember?" I say not
looking at him and just walk in the dark streets having him follow beside me.
"Harry just get inside." He argues.
"No." I say simply. Woah, he just addressed me by my first name, not Styles or
nerd or loser and you know what I mean.
I ignore and continue walking but don't stop checking him from the corner of my
eyes either.
Finally he stops the car, and hops out of it. I walk ignoring him, but can't
help and wonder what he is up to. Seconds later I hear foot steps and he's
jogged next to me.
Seriously what the hell is he trying to do?
"What are you doing?" I ask finally stopping and staring right into his eyes.
"Walking with you." He states the obvious.
"But why?" I ask sternly. "Louis, you hate me!"
He takes a deep breath, putting his hands in his jacket's pockets. "Yes, but
that doesn't mean I want some street gang to cross your way and beat you up,
take your money and run away. Who am I to torture if you are dead?" he asks
smirking. "Besides, I don't want you dying on me before finishing that essay."
Are you kidding me right now? Do I feel happy that he is concerned or angry at
why he is concerned? My brows furrow. I swear this guy will be the death of me.
I open my mouth but shut it back, not caring to give him a piece of my mind as
I start to walk again. Louis quickly catches up to me, slowly walking beside me
as I go home.
 
__________
 
Three days have passed...
It's been exactly three days since Louis stopped making any effort into teasing
or torturing me with his rude side comments. I must admit; obviously I hate
being hurt by someone I had feelings for but I'm not fond of being ignored by
him either. I'd rather be shoved against a locker or have him call me loser or
even nerd for the billionth time than be ignored by him. To be honest, this
shit sucks ass and I actually miss him.
This happens exactly the day after I went over to his house to write the essay
which I was still working on right now. By my self. This wasn't the Louis I
know. The Louis I know wouldn't even miss a tiny opportunity of hurting my
feelings; because I know how much it pleasures him. Me being hurt, makes him
feel good.
It's now History, the second period, and as usual, Louis is in the corner of
the room talking and laughing unnecessarily loud with his friends.
Every twenty seconds, I find myself looking over to check what he's doing or if
he's looking at me. But no, he's having the greatest time of his life with his
friends and that's what hurts me the most. The realization of me not meaning
anything to him in his life. I just wish this this empty feeling in my heart
would go away already but it fucking doesn't. This sucks ass. I miss Louis.
I turn my head to scratch something on my shoulder only as an excuse to once
again check up on Louis because god damn it, I was missing him so much! Now
that I've realized how much my life was better when he would taunt me, I will
never ever complain if he ever does it again.
I notice him using his phone...taking, what do they call it...selfies? yeah I'm
guessing, one of those but silly ones with a blond girl whose name I do not
know. His pink, wet, plump lips are pouted and the blond was gasping, making a
surprised face, trying to look cute but obviously failing. She looks like if
she squeezes herself a little more, she will explode.
After taking about five snapshots they both look back to the pictures and laugh
really loud, adoring each other's expressions. Ugh, I want to puke now. Damn,
Styles you act like a jealous wife, my conscious taunts me and I swear I have
mental problems.
I get out of my reverie when I hear a knock on the door. I quickly turn around
wanting anything but to get caught by Mr. Tomlinson and have him embarrass me
in front of the whole class once again for staring at him.
The substitute teacher gets up to open the door and I go back to writing the
essay, wanting it to be the most perfect thing since it was me and Louis'. I
repeat me and Louis'. The thought of me and him sharing something just made me
feel good. The littlest things about me and him doing something or enjoying
something, literally anything that had to do with us two doing something makes
me feel good.
"Hello, how can I help you?" The substitute lady asks, rainbows and sun shines
bursting out of the tone of her voice. "Room 227? Mrs. Huntley's class?" A
voice responds and I realize it belongs to a girl. I am not able to see her
face yet, as I was at the far side of the room so the only thing I can actually
see is the substitute and the open door.
I watch as the substitute nods. "I'm a new student here," the girly voice says
and the whole class goes silent just a few whispers coming from the girls
predicting the girl's personality and how she's probably a bitch. Really now?
They haven't even seen her face yet.
"Oh come in," the substitute teacher smiles as the girl steps in walking in
front of the class with a wide smile on her face. I must admit, she is pretty
good looking girl. She has dark brown, extremely wavy but thin hair. Matching
brown eyes, and small pink lips that are curved up from both corners. Someone
is a little too happy on their first day...
A wolf whistle comes from behind, as laughter joins along and the smile on the
new girl's face slowly fades away replacing a worried one. She has long bare
legs underneath her uniform skirt, and she is wearing the ladies' sleeveless
sweater with the white button up shirt under, her tie done properly. I must
admit she's extremely pretty and this will only cause trouble for her as long
as we have the douchebags in the corner. Poor girl. "Hey everyone my name's
Erin," she waves and looks at the substitute.
"Take a seat," the teacher gestures in front of her as she herself sits down on
the chair behind the teacher's desk.
New girl's eyes slowly scan around looking for an empty seat, and meets my
gaze. She smiles at me and makes her way towards me. Oh my god, she chose the
seat next to mine. This beautiful girl smiled at me and wants so sit next to
me. I should probably be very happy that she did but I am not. The seat next to
mine is the only seat that is available in class. No one wants to sit beside
me. So technically she didn't smile at me cause she found me likable enough to
sit next to me. No she smiled because it was the only seat available.
"This seat's available babe." Someone calls out from the back, playfully. I
turn my head looking over my shoulder only to see the boy shove the girl next
to him on the floor. The girl lands on her bum and quickly gets up, slapping
the boy across the cheek very hard. The class erupts into laughter as I
carelessly turn back in front of me, looking into the girl's eyes. Hell yeah
she's blushing, and this is only the beginning, poor her...
I turn once more to check on Louis and he's smiling really hard. The seat next
to him is suddenly also empty, shocker... All the boys in the room are grinning
with hope in their eyes probably predicting how they're going to get the girl
laid.
As I turn back around from Louis, I look back in front of me and the girl's no
where to be seen only to be settling her books on the desk beside mine. Now
this is new. To be honest, I thought she would take at least Louis' offer since
he is Louis motherfucking Tomlinson.
"Don't sit beside him, he has deceases!"
"And it's infectious!"
"Pull your skirt down hoe!" Comments are once again are being spitted from the
crowd and I'm already embarrassed. I can already imagine the girl pack her
books and leave to the back of the class but no, she simply sits down in the
seat next to mine and smiles at me. I feel something light being thrown to my
head and I look down on the floor to see a crumbled paper.
"You okay?" I hear the girl ask, her voice concerned. I bring my head back up
and roll my eyes, no where was I going to continue a conversation with this
girl unless I want to get my ass kicked.
Grabbing the wooden pencil in my hand, I continue writing the English essay and
I see from the corner of my left eye, the girl's awkwardly staring at me. I
look at her creeped out and the smile on her face only becomes wider.
"I'm Erin." She sticks her hand in front of me.
I freeze.
Someone's actually willing to talk to me in a nice way.
"Don't touch him, he's infectious!" Someone hollers and I roll my eyes again,
going back to the unfinished essay. Putting my head down on my crossed arm on
the table, I look the opposite way to ignore this new weird girl's presence.
I feel warmness upon my hair and suddenly hot air blows against my ear.
"Why are they being so rude to you?" Lifting my head up, I look at her no
emotion what so ever. What is wrong with this girl?
"The question is, why are you being so nice to me?" I cock an eyebrow. She
giggles.
What the hell?
"I'm only trying to have a conversation with you," she says once she stops her
girly giggle. I notice the class is surprisingly back to doing what they were
doing a few minutes ago.
"I'm Harry," I raise my brows up as she sticks her hand back out like she did
before.
"Erin." We both shake on it but I pull away too quickly not wanting anyone to
notice me getting along with the new girl.
"What are you working on?" She smiles, leaning in, her eyes looking at my
writing.
"Essay."
"What's it about?"
"Equalities of genders and sexualities." I say the last word uncomfortably.
"Hmm, interesting," she nods, backing away the smile still plastered on her
face.
"Yeah," I say still wondering what Louis is probably thinking, wondering or
doing right now.
Turning around, I notice he's into a deep conversation with his best mate
River. Not intending to make anything obvious I turn back around. Looking on my
desk, the essay's no longer there. I look to my left and Erin has is it in her
hand but she sees me noticing so she quickly passes it to me.
"It's bad right?"
"It's quiet nice actually. You'll get a good mark for sure," she says. I swear
she sounded like she was proud. What the hell? This one is for sure a weird
one. I grin and lay the essay back on the desk.
"So tell me, were they just joking around or..were they serious?" she asks
dragging it, her voice too concerned.
"What?" I ask even though I knew what she was talking about.
"The..-when they threw the paper at you, and the rude things they said," she
looks deep into my eyes. "Do they do that to everyone or-"
"No, just me," I say casually, like it is the most normal thing as I continue
with the essay.
"Why?" She asks.
Man, she's nosy. "I get it a lot, it's been happening for years." I don't look
at her and keep writing.
"Years?" She repeats, surprised.
"Mhm."
"Have you..tried to stop that? Tell someone?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I'm used to it," I flip the page and continue writing on the back. She stops
talking for a bit and stares at me as if there's something interesting going
on. "Why do you care so much?" I chuckle quietly, still writing.
"Just curious. You seem like a good friend Harry. Do you mind me staying with
you for lunch? I don't really know anyone here."
My head lifts up, the writing stops. I narrow my brows watching her intensely.
"D-did you just ask to stay with me for lunch?" I ask, pointing to my chest,
eyes wide.
She nods, confused. "You do know that if you walk back there to them," I point
behind with my thumb as her eyes look towards that direction,  
"You'll have five new best friends about twenty dates and you won't even
remember my name by the end of the day," I state as she watches me clueless.
"Thanks for the heads up but if I actually wanted all of those things to
happen, do you think I'd still be sitting here?" she questions, grinning.
I finally smile. "I like you," I say slowly referring to what she said, eyes
squinted, making her chuckle.
"So what are you doing for lunch?" Just as I am about to answer, I hear someone
call behind making me shut my mouth.
"Hey new girl!"
Erin and I both turn around and it's River. I take this opportunity to quickly
steal a glance of what Louis is doing. He's smiling, probably excited to hear
what River's going to say even though he probably knew it already. I stare at
him a few more seconds but our eyes quickly meet and I turn away. Shit, I made
it so obvious! Mentally face palming myself, I stop as I hear River laugh about
something.
"Were you calling me?" Erin asks, looking at the corner crew than back at me. I
turn my head to her slightly. She looks worried probably wondering what River
was going to say. I shrug sinking into my chair and play with my fingers.
"Yes babe, I was," River sounds amused. "Would you come here for a minute?" he
ask and I know what is happening already. Good luck Erin... She takes a deep
breath and looks at me while her body is still facing them. "Come on we don't
bite," River says laughing and I hear Louis join along.
"If anything happens, I'm blaming it on you for not warning me," Erin whispers
to my ear before straightening her skirt and walking towards the corner. I
smile to myself, as I place both of my palms on either sides of my chair and
pull myself back up to proper sitting position.
Dying to know what is going to happen, I pretend to drop my pencil. Rolling it
down with the side of my pinky, I lean down to pick it up.
As I grab it, I lift my head back up and take a peak of the corner. Erin's
already sat in a chair beside Louis. His finger was twirling a thick strand of
her hair and damn, you could easily see the awkwardness in Erin's eyes. They're
talking about something and all I can hear is muttering and River's god damn
annoying laugh.
River has a pretty face, blue eyes, jet black hair, tall body structure but
because of his disgusting personality I automatically hate him.
I turn back around, grabbing the pencil, I continue the essay. Based on the
little but enough information I know about Erin; she'll most likely tell me
everything that's happened. About fifteen minutes later, I am almost done the
essay. All I needed is a concluding paragraph, then bam bam turkey and ham, the
essay will be good to go. Packing my papers and books up, I slide them into my
book bag and also notice Erin is approaching.
She has an unsure look and I cock an eyebrow giving her the 'everything okay?'
look. She smirks as she makes her way towards me. God damn it, I'm getting
curious now. Getting up from my seat, I swing my bag on my shoulder while
watching Erin pack her books up. "What happened?"
"I'll tell you wait," she smiles to her self, putting her books in her giant,
vintage purse. I see Louis walk by both of us, ignoring me completely as if I
wasn't even there. He smirks at Erin and unfortunately receives an unpleasant
one back.
Yep, it's official. Erin's definitely my favourite person in the world right
now.
Louis cockily exits the room followed by me and Erin. I feel my hand tugged
into a smaller one, I look down at it and Erin's pulling me towards the
lockers.
Finally stopping, she looks around, checking if there's a sign of anyone then
let's go of my hand. Looking into my eyes, she tucks some of her hair behind
her ear and looks at me intensely.
"River is throwing a party tonight, apparently everyone's going to be there. He
invited me! I don't know what to do, should I go?" She panicks, shaking my
shoulders.
"First of all, let go of my shoulders," I force a smile standing stiff. She
apologizes letting go of me along with straightening my uniform top. "Do you
want to go? I mean, it's up to you." I shrug one shoulder.
"I don't know, it's just that I'm scared if I go something bad will happen."
"Why do you think that?"
"Come on Harry! You know them so much better than I do! Give me some ideas
yeah?" She asks.
"Fine, okay, I'll tell you everything about these boys. Do you want go to the
bleachers?" I finally give in.
She smiles, nodding. "Yeah okay." As we turn around, we stop dead in our
tracks.
"Erin," River smiles showing off his white pearl teeth. Louis gently pushes him
to the side and stands in front of her. Very closely.
"So will you party with us tonight?" Louis asks a faint smirk on his lips. I
really hate him right now. But I still love him. I just hate the fact how he's
ignoring me. I'm standing right next to him and he doesn't even dare to trip,
shove or drop my books. He doens't do anything and it's driving me to the edge.
It's all about Erin, Erin, Erin.
These are the moments I just wish I was born a female. Erin clears her throat
backing away from him and standing next to me. Snaking her arm behind my neck,
she rests her hand on my shoulder. Both boys look at me. Louis, for the first
time in what feels like forever, acknowledged me. But I hate this, I hate being
in the center of attention and Erin is causing it.
God, why did I talk to her in the first place?
"Oh I'll be there." Erin smirks at the boys. "But one condition," she adds.
River groans, throwing his head back. What the hell is this girl up to?
"My new friend Harry here is also coming." My eyes widen, as I turn to stare at
her shocked.
"What?" everyone but Erin asks in unison.
"You heard me." Erin tells the boys unfazed.
"The loser's not coming," I hear River say harshly, glaring right at me like I
was the one who suggested the idea. I look at Louis for a response but all he
does is stare at me disinterestedly. See, that right there is what is getting
to me, his I-couldn't-care-less-about-you attitude. Before, at least he found
me worthy enough to show some emotion even if it was hatred and amusement but
now it's like I don't even exist anymore.
"That 'loser' has a name and if he isn't coming, neither am I," she taps my
shoulder in a friendly gesture and I find myself very moved and happy by her
gesture of affection. None has ever looked at me the way Erin sees me. She sees
me as her friend and I am actually forever thankful to her for that. She gave
me one thing I wanted the most.
"Whatever, River let's go. I have more important places to go and things to do.
I can't deal with this bullshit right now," Louis speaks with such monotone
voice, I am speechless as I stare at him in disblief.
Louis turns around as if to leave but River tugs on his elbow to stop him, "No,
man wait. I want her to come...even if it meant having this loser," he spits
the words with venom, nodding at me, "come to my party."
River then, looks straight into my eyes, intimidating me with his cold stare,
"And you," he points a finger at me, "make sure I don't come across with you."
~
"Shit," I curse as I fish for my keys in my pocket, making sure to check all of
them.
"What...Harry what's wrong?" Erin asks me, jumping up and down behind me to see
what I am doing over my shoulder.
"Shit," I curse again as turn around to face her, "I think, I lost my keys," I
let her know with a frown.
"What, are we stuck outside?"
I scratch my head thinking of a way to break inside. "Hmm...it seems that way
but...unlesss," an idea comes to my mind as I smile. "You good with climbing?"
I ask Erin with a huge grin.
"Climbing?"
"Climbing," I nod cheekily.
"I guess...What am I climbing?" she asks but I watch as her eyes get wide with
realization. "Don't tell me..."
"Yes we are. Now, come on there is this huge old mahogany tree in our back
yard. Its branches spread all the way to my bedrooms window. I remember leaving
my window open so we might be able to get in."
Erin laughs at my idea, "Oh okay then, lead the way. What are we waiting for?"
She takes a held of my hand and practically runs around my house to get us to
the back yard. I can't help but laugh along with her, her carefree attitude
making me happy and feel good inside for the first time in a very long time. So
this is what it felt like to have a friend.
~
"Hahaha," Erin laughs, cluthing at her stomach, as she looks at me, "we are so
doing this another time!" she demands and I nod with a smile. I must say, all
those climbing and getting scratched by the branches was so worth the fun and
happiness I felt, sharing this moment with my new friend Erin.
"Yes mam, we shall. Though, I think we should probably put band-aids over these
cuts," I point out to my cheek, jawline, hands, and neck. "We should but let us
find you the perfect outfit for this party first," she says and goes over to my
wardrobe. She doesn't even ask, as she goes through my clothes as if we've
known each other for eternity. I just smile stupidly.
"What do you wanna wear Harry," Erin ask and I sit on my bed.
"Just a casual shirt and jeans really," I shrug not really caring to look good
for a party I'm going only because Erin said she wouldn't go if I weren't
there.
"Alright, mister. Here, take these and go change...or you can change here I
don't mind," she looks and smirks at me. Pervert!
"No thanks," I take the plaid shirt and my faded jeans as I make my way to my
washroom. I grab the handle and turn around, "I don't want you getting
overwhelmed by my amazing naked body," I smirk and turn around to leave the
room, but I don't miss the gasp that leaves her mouth as her jaw drops to the
floor.
Holy shit, where did that come from? My, my Styles are you the flirt, my
conscious makes an appearance and I shake my head at its timing. Not wanting to
over think my two seconds of flirty action, I quickly go to the wash room and
strip down. Checking myself in mirror, I think, here goes nothing and wear the
clothes Erin chose for me.
After I am done wearing them, I make my way to my bedroom. Opening the door, I
see Erin looking around my bedroom, her back towards me. I cough, "Ahem!"
Erin turns around and the next thing she does leaves me frozen in place. She
laughs...and I am talking about one of those laughs where the person might
suffocate him/herself or choke on their own spit and die. I am confused in my
place, waiting for her to stop and tell me what's so funny because frankly, I
start to feel insulted as my mind is sure she is laughing at the way I look.
A little annoyed, I cross my arms and cough again, "Care to tell me what is so
funny that you look like you are about to pass out from the lack of oxygen
Erin?"
Cluthing on her sides, she speaks between laughter, "Oh God, so-sorry
Harry...Oh my God...so sorry, I'll stop...Hahaha, y-you just lo-look... s-so
funny," she finishes and I am glaring at her.
"Excuse me?"
Erin point a finger at me to as if wanting some time to compose herself. With
last laugh, she sighs, "Ahh, I am so sorry about that Harry. It's just, you
look so funny," she waves her hands over my body.
"What's so funny about how I look? Last time I checked, you were the one who
chose this outfit," I point out, still a little annoyed.
"Well, the outfit is still amazing. It's just, what is up with this Styles?"
she asks and comes close to me. Erin stands in front of me and I watch as her
hands go up to my collar. I watch her unbutton it and stand back for an
examination. "Here that's a little better I guess... And this, why do you have
this tucked in?" she asks again but it feels like she asks it in general and
not at me.
Erin untucks my shirt and again, steps back to examine me all over. There is a
hesitation on her face as if she doesn't like the outfit and I am soon
confirmed, "I don't like it, take it off," she says and goes back to examining
my clothes.
This 'dress-up' with Erin goes on until 6:00 pm. and we are to be at the party
at 7:00. I sigh for like the billionth time, tired of trying all these clothes
and never satisfying Erin. I swear if feels like years have passed. I look over
at Erin, who at the moment is still finding me the 'best outfit' as she states.
I am so in my thought that I startle when I hear Erin yell, "Hallelujah!" I sit
slight up on my bed, trying to see what she chose this time but am faced with
her grinning face. Hopefully, she found 'the one,' or I swear I will end this
misery by simply not going to the party. I lazily watch as Erin stalks toward
me. She hold her hand for me and I take it.
"Get up, lazy ass... I promise Harry this is the one. You will look so sexy,
all of the girls-and-boys will jump on you the minute you walk through River's
house," she says this so fast, I swear I feel like I heard her say boys.
"D-did you just say b-boys?" I ask shakily and praying to God, she didn't.
"W-what, n-no?" again she speaks fast but I am relieved. Goodness, how could
she know that I am gay. Now, I'm just being paranoid.
"Oh, okay," I say, still hesitant.
"Here are the clothes you will be wearing mister," Erin shoves the clothes to
me and smirks, "be quick, we don't wan to be late. I still have to go home to
change," she reminds me and I am out of the room in seconds.
~
"Speak Erin," I demand to a frozen Erin.
"Wh-whoah!" is all she says and I am self-conscious of how she is practically
drooling. Was the outfit alright? Did I look good?
"Do I look alright?" I ask again, wishing she would talk already.
"Alright? Dude you look... fuckable," she point out and now I'm the one
speechless. Did she just say what I think she did? "Oh, I'm sorry. Harry you
look... wow," she says again in a dazed expression.
"Snap out of it already Erin," I snap my fingers at her and she shakes her head
as if some spell on her is now broken.
"Damn, Harry. You look so sexy. Even I wasn't expecting this. Come on, come
here," she takes my hand and pulls me in front of my full length mirror.
I must say, this is quiet the transformation from how I used to look with my
clothes. Yeah, I had these clothes, but I never thought to match them like Erin
did. She had me wearing this black, ripped on the knee, skinny jeans, along
with a loose white tank top with an All Star logo on it. Over the thank top, I
am wearing a simple denim jacket but it compliments the outfit as whole very
nicely. I brush my hands through my hair and feel satisfied with the way I
look.
"Okay, I get it I am gorgeous but we must hurry if we don't want to be late.
And besides you said it yourself that we still have to go to your house," I
tell Erin as I look around my drawers my dog tag necklace. I take it out and
put it over my head, along with my paper plane necklace.
"Well, for your information, I already have my dress waiting for me so we wont
be late. But you're right lets go early, I want to flaunt you to all the ladies
and make them drool over you," she takes her bag on the floor and pulls it over
her right shoulder as she puts her left arm interlock with mine.
We walk down stairs and I take the spare key out of a jar mum has placed in the
small shelf nailed to corridor wall. I wear my white converse to go with my
outfit and look up to see Erin giving my thumbs up. So I made a right decision
then. I take my green beanie that was on the rack and put it on. I lock the
door once we are out side and Erin and I walk outside of the garden.
"What the?" I question as I spot a black SUV parked a little far from my house.
"Err, that's for us. You didn't think we'd walk did you?" Erin asks but doen't
explain the beautiful car.
"Whose car is that?" I question.
"My family's but for now, you could say that it's mine," she looks at me and
smirks as we walk towards it.
~
I wait patiently in Erin's living room as she gets dressed. When I met Erin and
she told me things about herself, she missed a tiny tiny fact about herself...
That she was filthy rich.
On the way here, she told me that her father was apparently the CEO of some
compant she didn't mention. He was the fucking CEO. Damn! Her mom was her dad's
personal assistant she told me and that they couldn't fight their attraction to
one another even when it was strictly prohibited from the boss himself.
So in the end, after all those sneaky office romance, they decided to get
married when they heard that Mrs. Goslin was pregnant with Erin. It is a
beautiful story if you ask me, a beautiful happy ending for her family.
Erin's house is an exquisite mansion. And the inside of it is more beautiful
than the outside. I was in awe when I first saw it.
"I am ready," I hear Erin's voice and get up to see her.
I watch as Erin stalks down with a confident smile and all the while one thing
goes through my mind. What is she wearing? "I thought, you said you were going
to wear a dress."
"I was... but I thought about how amazing it would be if we actually matched
each other so...Voila," she opens her arms and twirls around for me to fully
check her outfit.
To be honest, she looks amazing, hot even. She is wearing a high waisted faded
jean shorts with lots of studs on its front left pocket. She too, like me is
wearing a white tank top, tucked in her shorts, with the words 'TOO SEXY FOR
YOU!' I actually smirk at that. She is such a confident girl and I admire her
for it. Over her tank top, unlike me, she is wearing a black leather jacket
with studs on both shoulders.
"You look hot," I say honestly and watch as she takes my hand leading us
outside.
"Just trying to look my best next to you," she winks looking at me and
exchanges her pink slippers for a black, rusty combat boots.
Honestly, this girl has the power to make even the most loser person feel like
they own the world. The way she has with words, I shake my head smiling and
thanking her mentally for making me seem important when in real she was the
better one if we were to be compared.
We are waited by Erin's driver out side of the SUV. He opens the door for us
and we jump inside. The ride passes quickly and it's ten minutes passed seven
when we arrive in front of River's house. Erin smirks at me and I smile at her
back.
The driver opens the door for us once again and we step outside. The party is
happening inside of the huge house in front of us due to the chilly air but one
could hear the blasting music many blocks away. The house is practically
vibrating with the loud beat and the screaming of over hundred, -probably
drunk, or almost drunk- teenagers.
We walk in front of the door and I am suddenly washed over with nervousness, my
anxiety kicking in. What if they make fun of me? This is a mistake, what was I
thinking? I was forced to come here anyway. I just made one friend at school
and I am already thinking everyone will accept me. Oh god, I should leave. I am
having a mental break down in front of one of my enemy's house. What the hell
is wrong with me?
I turn around and gasp for air, my throat feeling dry and tight. I see Erin's
eyes alarmed, as she takes in my expression. She quickly hold both my hands.
"Harry... Harry look at me," I do as she says but still find it hard to
breathe.
"I-I should go. Erin, they are going to make fun of me I know it. It will never
go away. I should go. I don't want to go in there anymore," I blabber things
and feel Erin's hands give mines a reassured squeeze.
"Calm down Harry," she says and I look at her again. "We don't have to go in
there now. For now, just breathe in and out and calm down."
I close my eyes and inhale, then, exhale. When I feel myself a little calmed, I
open my eyes. Erin is smiling at me, "Are you okay now?" she asks and I slight
nod. "Good, cause we are going in there and I promise you this day will be the
end of whatever they made you go through," she squeezes my hands one more time
before let's go.
She nods for me to go on and ring the bell and I am hesitant. Can what she said
be true? Oh I hope so. It would be the best to not get picked on anymore.
With sudden encouragement I look at Erin. She smiles, "Are you ready Styles?"
I nod, "...As I'll ever be!"
 
______________________________________________
 
 
I shouldn't have come, I mentally repeat for the billionth time as I watch
Louis across the room, dance or more likely practically have sex with the
thirtieth girl who came on to him. I take a huge gulp of my fruit punch and put
the red cup down on the counter with more force than necessary, making the rest
of the punch spill all over.
I sigh. I knew I couldn't back down from this, the minute River opened that
damn door and greeted us...well only Erin but I'll take what I get. When we
stepped inside the house, I realized, the inside was louder than the outside.
The house was vibrating with blasting music and people were everywhere. How
many people did he invite anyway? "Did he invite the whole freaking school?" I
asked Erin, who only shrugged. I think back and I know for a fact that this was
only a senior and junior party.
Erin and I made our way to kitchen, trying to ignore the drunken teenagers,
practically having sex on the dance floor, which would be River's massive,
elegant living room. On our way to kitchen we passed Louis, who only sent a
smirk to Erin's way and ignored me like I was invisible. That actually hurt
considering I looked pretty decent and he could've at least acknowledged me.
We got ourselves some drinks and looked around for a while but once, I knew
Erin was getting bored, I told her to go have fun and dance while I would wait
for her here in the kitchen. 
So here I am, one hour later, still sitting on the same stool in the kitchen,
drinking my god knows what cup of fruit punch, while watching Louis through the
door as he has the most fun of his live. How funfuckingtastic.
I am frozen on my place as I  see Louis smirk as he turns the girl around and
grinds his crotch on her behind, dry humping her. Ugh I want to puke. She isn't
even that pretty. 
Jealous Styles, my annoying conscious taunts me and I roll my eye at it.
However, I can't help myself as I think about how it would be if that was me
who danced with him and not that fake blond.
I am out of my reverie when I hear a person clear their throat on a mic, as I
notice people becoming quiet and the sound of music lowering down. 
I look around before looking back at Louis, and see him untangling himself from
the bimbo. I'd never thought I would say this but 'Thank you River,' for
interrupting that awful scene in front of me.
"Ahem," River clears his throat, "You all having a good time?" he yells and the
crowd roars a loud 'Yeah' along with cheers. "Well I am glad...cause it's time
to play our annual game of Shots."
The whole room erupts into cheers. By the look of people, this game is
definitely one of their favorites. I lay my hands in the middle of
my thighs and hold them tight against each other, not one bit interested in
this 'annual game' of theirs.
I try not to stare, but unfortunately I turn to watch the crowd across from me
spread out. Most surprisingly stay out, and about thirteen of them clear out
the room to find themselves a spot to sit on. I slip one hand into my pocket to
check my phone in case mum had texted. Turning the phone on, in a swift move it
slips away from my hand. Startled, my head cocks up and I'm face to face with
an excited Erin.
"Erin," I divulge, tilting my head. "I need to text mum."
I look down at the phone and it's held tight in her hand. She smiles wide,
before I know it she raises the phone and slips it above her shirt into her
chest.
Smooth Erin..
I shake my head slightly, glaring at her.
"Now, come play with us." She smiles.
I scoff, humorously. "You're kidding right?"
"No." She says simply. "Please Harry!" She begs, reaching for my wrist and
holding on to it. "Come on, dont'chu want to have fun? Let loose? Enjoy
yourself for once? By the end of the day, I promise you you'll thank me for
everything," she states eyes hopeful.
I stare at her agitated for good five seconds, then let out a weak sigh. "But I
don't even know the game. What if-"
"Please," She cuts me off, her grip on my wrist getting tighter, "I won't let
them take advantage of you, I promise!"
"Gosh Erin. You're so stubborn!" I groan.
She smiles letting go of my wrist. "It's all in the charm," she flips her hair
flirtatiously, "now was that a yes?"
I roll my eyes, finally giving a small nod of my head.
"Thank you!" She trails on, happily biting her full lip before pulling me off
of the couch. 
I arch my back and lazily get up, following her around the people sitting on
the wooden floor, sitting Indian style.
Some shoot me dirty looks, and some have confusion plastered on their faces,
eyes travelling up and down my body. Of course they are wondering what is the
school's antisocial loser doing at a party... a popular party at that. I
uncomfortably sit down next to Erin and Nick from English class. 
He doesn't notice my presence until his snobby little girlfriend Katie-who the
whole class calls Kit Kat due to her bronzed tan she received when she went to
Cuba for vacation- shoulders him. I peek from the corner of my eyes only to
notice Katie pulls him towards herself probably because of my 'infectious
decease' that I'm not even aware of. 
"Okay, okay," River says clapping his hands and adding a loud rub to it before
settling down on the floor across me and Erin, next to two unfamiliar girls
I've never actually seen before. He takes a huge gulp of his beer and laughs.
"Alright, most of you already know the game. For the newbies," River points at
the couple of people who I assume he called newbies, along with myself and
Erin, "someone will start the game by telling everybody about something they
haven't done during the summer before school started. Now everybody around the
circle who has done the thing the person hasn't done, takes down their shot.
And the game goes on like that until everybody has taken their turn. Capiche?
Oh and PS the people who refuse to tell about what they haven't done will be
dared to do something by anybody in the circle." 
The room erupts into shouts of 'yeah's and 'yes'es. Couple of people who I
assume are in charge of the drinks stand up and go to the kitchen to bring the
alcoholic beverages. 
I feel Erin stir beside me and wonder what is wrong but I'm soon answered, when
she gets up and yells at River, "Harry will be taking the fruit punches on the
table. Thanks," she smiles angelically and sits back down. 
People around the circle laugh at what Erin says, and give me the mocking eye. 
Well this is just great. Everybody laughs at me and we haven't even started the
game yet. I shake my head mentally and wait. 
Just then I feel footsteps behind me and a strong THUD catches my attention. 
"There you go loser, your baby juice," a blond guy states, making everybody
except Erin and I laugh again. I narrow my eyes at him. 
The blond resumes giving everybody their drinks until he lastly gives River his
and sits beside him. 
I scan my eyes through the circle of people and stop at Louis. He has a
sympathetic grin on his face and looking at the stupid blond from before. She
twirls her blond locks as she practically purrs at him. Gross. Someone carve my
eyes out. 
Louis... he looks so perfect, I want to cry at the mare sight of him in a black
tank top with Chinese letter designs and plain black skinny jeans. 
Those tattoos on his collar and his right arm... Call me a creep but I know the
exact dates he got all of his tattoos.  Well all of them except the new
unfamiliar one that is now on his right bicep, which looks like a head of a
moose and a heart in between its long antlers. Louis' tattoos are my favourite
even though I'm completely clueless about the message behind each of them. 
"What are you looking at?" I hear a voice blurt taking me out of my reverie. 
Looking towards the direction of the voice I notice Erin looking at me then
ahead of her then back at me, an adorable confused look plastered on her face.
I can't help but let out a lazy chuckle. This girl's full confidence and
nosiness drives me crazy but I'm not disliking it either. 
"Nothing," I smile at her sheepishly as she nods, her lips forming an oval
shape. 
I turn my head back at the culprit I was checking out, only to be met with
blazing icy blue ones staring right back at me. The smile on my lips slowly
fades. We held each other's gaze for what feels like the eternity until a loud
clearing of throat catches my attention and I brake our gaze to turn to River
to hear what he has to say. 
"Alright, now that the shots are here, we may begin," River smirks. 
"Who's going first?" I whisper to Erin.
"I don't know," she replies back, eyes still looking at River. 
And in this moment, I feel nervousness grow in the pity of my stomach. God
please don't make me regret this day..
"I'll go first, doesn't really matter. Then we'll go this way around." River
says pointing at the right side of the room. "I'm gonna lay it easy for you
fuckers," he claims looking at the guys cockily, "don't worry though ladies,
River loves you all." He adds cheekily.
What a bastard...
"Well... During the summer I wasn't in the city," he shrugs, a what-ever face
plastered across his face, "I was out in Cuba, getting it hot and heavy with
some Latina chicks," he finishes smirking. Ugh, I should've known. I look
around the circle of people and watch as half of them drink their shots,
indicating that they didn't leave the city. Erin doesn't take her shot and I
wonder when exactly she came to this place. I shrug mentally and take my fruit
punch and drink it until it's empty, then, gently place it in its place. I wipe
my mouth with the back of my hand. This is going to be a long night.
Ashton, the first person on River's right hollers a 'my turn'.
"During the summer..."
 
* * * * *
 God, Louis sure is something else when he is drunk. 
And I do mean something else. Just what the hell has this boy not done during
the summer? At every 'During the summer..." statement he took a shot. I lost
count after seventeen. 
Just like that, Louis became drunk. I never thought I would actually witness
this scene, this surprisingly glorious scene. Something about him being shit-
faced makes me interested and I just want to stare at him all day, take in his
slurred words and his funny laughs.
I look around and see that it's almost his turn. And I'm actually very
frightened by what he's going to say because one can never know what this boy
is up to. Especially when drunk. 
"Louis babe go, your turn." The blond nudges his shoulder and I just wish I
could straddle her right now in this moment and yank the roots of her hair out
of her skull, hell she annoys me. 
"Oh me?" Louis asks childishly pointing at his chest. "Okay okay," he laughs
placing both of his palms on his knees. "During the summer.." He slurs again
and a hiccup escapes his red lips. Damn, those lips. Louis seems to think of a
thing he hasn't done, his eye wondering around the ceiling, until they lower
down and look straight at me. He lazily grins at me and I am shocked. This is
the first time he has acknowledged me. Still speechless a little, I do not
catch his words as a cocky smirk appears on his mouth, "...I did not kiss a
guy." 
Silence...
You know that silence that happens in movies... Western movies to be specific
where the town is so empty all you hear is just the whistle of the wind, as it
blows. 
Yeah right now that silence is happening here. Everybody looks around them but
doesn't make a sound.
And just like that as if a magic spell has been broken, all of the girls take
their drinks, and drink them in one go. 
What the fuck now?
I look up at Louis' eyes, and they're both staring back into mine. He has that
amused look on his face.
I know then, that this was meant to mock me, of course he's teasing me. I feel
humiliated as a sick, sad feeling creeps in to my stomach. 
I stay stiff as I finally realize Erin has not taken her shot either. A girl as
pretty as her has not kissed a guy during the summer? I don't believe it.
A girl next to Louis' left continues as I rest my chin in my palm, bored and
eager to finish this game as quickly as possible.
 
******
 
The game goes like that, and Louis, along with River and other popular kids
could literally pass out any minute. I've never actually seen someone so drunk
before. Louis is past drunk, he's most likely unconscious now. Thanks to River
and this stupid game, I now know what Louis does in the summer; whore around
with every whore he could find and get them laid. 
I should've known though, he's so perfect looking that people beg like a puppy
to communicate with him. Louis is a trophy everyone wants to achieve. 
"Harry," I hear a whisper. "it's your turn now." 
"H-huh?" I ask zoned out, looking at my surroundings.
"You're always day dreaming, focus it's your turn." Erin says quiet and sternly
as I notice everyone's eyes are on me.
Looking in front of me, people are already whispering but I ignore them because
stranger's comments whether it be rude or nice are the least of my worries. I
see Louis whispering something to the blond next to him and they both laugh. I
squint my eyes at them. Ugh, I hope they both chock on their drinks. Well..
okay.. only the blond whore. 
I am pissed as I bring my cup of punch to my lips.
"You don't drink it dumbfuck-"
"Watch it River." Erin comments, looking at him sharply. 
The crowd ooo's and I just want to get Erin to shut up because I still haven't
warned her about how much I hate being in the centre of attention.
"As you wish, my precious." River says sarcastically, fake smiling.
"Harry say something you've done in the summer." 
"Ohhh, uh," I begin, scratching my chin, thinking. This takes about ten seconds
until people kiss their teeth at me, rolling their eyes at my dumbness.
I really don't fit in with these people, and will never either. That's another
thing I've learned today.
"Yo loser, if you can't think of anything, you're going to have to agree to a
dare," River says annoyed. 
 No wait-a...dare? 
"I can't do a dare." I blurt too quickly.
"You have to dipshit, you've taken too fucking long to state a god damn lame
thing you've done during the summer and who gave you the right to talk back to
me in my own house? Just shut up and do the dare already," the usual River says
harshly and I breath through my nose then let it out. 
Why am I in this place again? I sigh. Okay, a dare, now this was going to be an
entertainment they'll never forget for the whole school year and probably after
that.
Oh, what the hell. I've had worse ones. 
"F-fine what's the d-dare?' I ask River, worried about my own safety.
River smiles. And it's not a genuine smile. This one spells trouble. With a
promise. 
"I dare you to," he looks around the circle and chuckles lowly, "kiss the
precious Erin right next to you," I gape at him, "... on the mouth," he adds to
my dismay.  
What.the.hell.did.he.just.say?
I must probably look like a gaping fish for I feel Erin nudge me. I look at her
and she gives me a reassured smile. 
I-Icant kiss Erin. I mean what would she think...
"Dude come on, we don't got all day," a slurred and annoyed voice comes beside
me from Nick. 
"Sorry," I say to Nick and feel my self shake as nervousness takes over me. 
I look at Louis to find him watching me silently. No talking to the blond
bimbo, no laughing, no kissing...
A thug on my hand snaps my attention from Louis and I look at Erin's hand
taking a hold on my own.
"Are you gonna do it or not?" somebody screams and the whole crowd cheers in
agreement. 
"Yo-you want me to kiss Erin?" I ask River dumbly.
"Yep, I want you make out with her," he says back,  "you've been all
touchy feely with her since the moment she came into our class so go kiss her,
lets see some action yeah?" 
Everyone in the circle excitedly screams 'yeah!'s and 'whoos' and they are all
ready to mock me.
I gulp down a really thick saliva, not yet making eye contact with Erin. I'm
gay. Yeah I won't feel anything, but what about Erin? Gosh this was going to
get awkward. 
"We're waiting for you." River squints his eyes.
I just want to snarl at the evil inside of him, he's such a prick.
"You want a kiss?" the voice beside me asks the crowd and they all lazily yell,
"yeah." 
"Fine we'll give you a kiss," Erin says and what she does next, has me frozen
in my place. 
She grabs my head, turning me to her and plants her lips on mine with a loud
smack.
God.please,let.me.die.
I stand still at first, lettting Erin do whatever she wants but after needing
to take a breath, I slightly pull back to breathe, only to have her kiss me
back but with my mouth open, Erin deepens our kiss. 
This new sensation is new to me and I still don't know what to do properly, but
remembering the aftermath of this situation and not wanting to get mocked by
these losers for not being able to kiss Erin, or worse making them realize I am
gay, I kiss Erin back. 
I feel her smiling through our kiss and don't know when I should pull back. 
From the back of my head, I hear people cheering but I don't pay attention to
anything but what Louis might be thinking now.
I am domed.
With that realization, I quickly pull as if I am burned by Erin's lips on
mines. The crowd stops cheering. I look to Louis' direction and find him gone.
I start to panic. Where is he? Jesus, I am so fucked now.
"Excuse me," I say quickly and get up.
"Where you going Harry?" Erin asks me, a worried look is on her face and I feel
bad for making her worry.
"Oh, nowhere... just the kitchen," I say and look down to the empty pitcher
that was once filled with the fruit punch I was drinking, "...to refill this,"
I take the pitcher and dash towards the kitchen. 
Once in the safety of the kitchen, I put the pitcher on the counter and sit on
a stool, feeling exhausted. I put my hands over my eyes and try to analyze what
just happened.
You kissed Erin moron, my annoying conscious appears out of nowhere. Fucking
conscious has the worst timing.
She kissed me, I try to defend and realize how stupid I must be. Defend myself
from who? Myself? 
You let Louis saw you while you kissed Erin. My God what an annoying conscious
I have. Arghh, I want the ground to split and devour me whole. 
Sound of steps catch my attention and then the opening of a door. I look to my
left and see a drunk Louis come inside the kitchen from what looks like a back
door...to what? A garden? 
Louis glares at me and makes his way sloppily opposite of me on the counter. He
opens a bottle of beer and chugs it as if it's water. I grimace. He looks
pissed. 
Louis bangs the bottle on the counter, glaring at me. I don't do anything
except worriedly look back at him. This is the first time I am this close to
him since Erin and I came to this party. I wonder what Louis is thinking. I
wish he stopped ignoring me.
"Y-you k-kissed h-her," Louis slurs and for a second I do not understand what
he is talking about.
"Huh," I ask dumbfounded. 
Louis quickly get up from the stool and sways on his spot. I am forcing myself
to not rush to his side and steady him. What would he think if I do that?
I watch as Louis steadies himself and makes his way around the counter and end
up in front of me, on my side. "You let her kiss you," he says more firmly,
without slurring his words and I realise what he is talking about. 
"I-I didn't... It w-was River who dared me," I speak back, even shocking
myself.
"And you did exactly what he said!" He yells, accusingly and I do not know what
is happening. Louis comes closer to me and my knees brush between his thighs
now, as I am still seated on the stool. 
I look at Louis and find that we are in a very intimate position, his head
leaned down to my level.
"You..." Louis drags on and I wonder what he is going to say. My eyes flutter
from the closeness of our faces to each other and find myself strangely not
bothered by his alcohol dripping breath.
Louis inches his face a little close and I feel as our noses touch. My heart is
pumping so loud, I feel as if it might burst out of my chest any moment.
'I?" I nervously question back, wanting to hear what he was going to say.
"Y-you," he repeats, his voice slurry again, "...you look s-so damn fucking b-
beautiful today," Louis finishes and I am speechless. My eyes widen at what he
just said, part of me gets excited but a part of me...annoying part of me
remind me that he is drunk. He probably has no idea what he is saying.
"Y-you're drunk Louis," I say a little shakily, and try to pry him off of me
but he cathes my hands in his own and lowers his face that the tip of our noses
are touching each.
If he leans a little more we could be kissing. What is Louis doing? Is he
playing with me. I feel so nervous, I might pass out any second.
I look at Louis and see that he is looking right back at me. Our eyes hold each
other's gaze and I feel my lips dry. 
I lick my lips and watch as his eyes dart over to them. His icy blue eyes,
almost turning black. What the? I-is that? Is that lust I am seeing or are
whatever gods are up there playing a trick on me.
Out of nervousness I bite the center of my lower lip and hear Louis groan. I
quickly look up at him. Did I hear him right? I am one hundred percent positive
that the popular Louis Fucking Tomlinson just groaned at me, biting my lip. 
What does this mean?
"Y-you shouldn't have done that Styles," Louis says and I am confused.
"L-Loui-" and just like that my lips are captured by the one and only, Louis
tomlinson's lips...
 
__________
 
 
I am kissing Louis Tomlinson. I, Harry Edward Styles am kissing Louis
Tomlinson. The Louis Tomlinson. The boy I could swear I've been in love with
for six whole years. The boy I would never resist taking a risk for, the boy
I'd give away anything for, I am kissing Louis Tomlinson. But why am I not
enjoying it? I should be! I love him and now my own lips; a skin that's
attached to my body is pressed against a holy skin that's on Louis'. Now why
the hell am I not enjoying this? Oh, maybe because he's drunk and has no idea
what the fuck he's doing? 
His thin, hot soft lips are pressing against mine, putting more pressure on it.
I feel my legs and torso stiffen as the thought crosses my mind that I'm not
sure of why the hell Louis Tomlinson is doing this, because he for one likes
girls, not boys and for sure not me. Even though I'm so damn grateful for this
moment, I still feel though this should not be happening, as if I'm taking
advantage of him and his drunken self. Next second, my heart drops meters down
when Louis' teeth nibbles against my bottom lip and I can't help but let a
quiet moan escape my lips. This is so wrong. So so wrong.  But I enjoy it
anyways.
Louis' arms instantly reach around my burning neck, leaning himself in. The
smell of sweat and bit Louis' cologne lingers right up my nose, dragging me in
further. God he smells wonderful. My hands uncontrollably shake, as I feel the
awkward tension slowly decay. Whether drunk or not, Louis Tomlinson's lips are
pressed against mine and I'm going as sure to hell for taking advantage of
this. Just as I finally part my lips to get a better taste of Louis' lips, my
eyes flutter open, meeting Erin's wide, aroused ones.
"I-I'm sorr-I'm just going t-" Stuttering, she stumbles on her feet backwards
before throwing her head on the floor and marching her way out of the kitchen. 
My head darting back to the careless body in front of me, my lips no longer
respond to his moving ones and I know I am going to regret what I’m going to do
next, for years and even life after death. Digging my hand between me and the
drunken boy’s pressed chest, I push him hard, so hard he stumbles backwards
just like Erin had a few seconds ago and lands on his bum, not missing a curse
from his mouth. 
I look towards the door of the kitchen, where Erin exit then back at Louis,
confused as hell for what I should do. Louis looks so pretty in his black tank
top which I'm thankful for exposing his golden honey tan skin. His feathered
hair is tousled on his sweaty cute forehead, roots darker for the amount of
sweat. I rub my face, and then run my hand hard through my hair which feel half
as sweaty as the tanktop sticking onto my burning torso. Noticing Louis is no
longer sat up and now collapsed on his back against the floor tiles, I
nervously crack my knuckles, moving around in my spot.
Erin found out...
Erin saw us kiss...
Erin saw me kissing another boy.
Another boy who was Louis.
Who she knew as my bully.
Oh god, Erin's never going to feel the same way towards me! Just when I think,
someone's there for me, someone's actually choosing-wanting to be my friend,
they find out my biggest secret; my fucking sexuality for heaven's sake. 
My pace around the kitchen is interrupted by low groans coming out of the
unconscious body on the floor.
Nevertheless, I reach down on my knees to help Louis up but have my self
immediately jerk back when voices of laughter echo the corridors. Looking
behind, to the direction of the voices, I quickly get on my feet and look
around the kitchen for any sign of back doors. Hell no am I getting caught with
Louis again. Not once more...
Spotting a sliding glass door in the corner, I move as quickly as I can towards
it while still being quiet. The voices got louder, indicating they were close
to the kitchen. Sliding the door, I turn around assuring Louis’s okay and not
passed out or something. I find myself helplessly smiling to myself as I notice
Louis' tummy rising up and down in a cute rhythm.
I hear a kick and see the kitchen's door swoon open, as I quickly turn around,
hopping outside the kitchen and onto God knows where this passage is taking me.
Sliding the door shut, I turn around from the doors, only to come face to face
with the blond bimbo from earlier. 
"Move, you're in my way," she slurs. Oh the struggle… Even when she's drunk she
still manages to hate me. Rolling my eyes, I brush her shoulder and walk away,
still not sure where this ‘back door’ is going to take me.
"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" High pitch voices come from behind, and I
scoff at that, walking away from her, a grin growing on my face.
***
"Just one blunt,"
"Just take it,"
"Such a wimp aren't you,"
"Yo River, why you begging f'course he's gunn’ take it!"
"Take it if you wanna make it home in one piece you fucker,"
I open my mouth to argue but scream in pain when something scalding hot touches
my arm. I don't have time to say anything else because I'm pinned against the
wall of the back of River's house. More and more people crowding around me,
taking up the little air I could barely consume. I'm on my tiptoes, eyes half
shut, not wanting to see the scenery in front of me. God knows where in the
world Erin is right now. 
I wince at the burning pain on my arm, and shut my eyes tight as River's thumb
presses hard against it. 
"Fucking smoke i-"
Just as I'm about to obey River's commandment, a familiar feminine voice cuts
in, loosening River's grip on my neck. 
"Hey, hey, hey what's going on in here?" 
I finally open my eyes, to notice the crowd had gotten larger and it's probably
midnight now, judging by the darkness outside. Looking in front of me where
River's standing, I glare at the crooked grin on River's lips and a cigarette
sitting loose between them. And in this moment I swear I just want to spit on
his shit face, I hate him! I honestly hate River. He's the biggest prick in the
entire world and props to him now I actually have hatred towards a human. 
Turning to the right where the whole crowd-including River's eyes are darting
at, I feel my breath hitch in my throat and the air decreasing around me. 
Erin standing tall, looking at me with a vulnerable look on her face, after
finding out my biggest secret is not the best thing I've come across to in my
entire life. My eyes fall faintly on the ground, I find myself not able to look
at her in the eye when she's staring at me like I'm the saddest thing in the
world. I felt like the saddest thing in the world.
"Oh look," River turns around facing the crowd with his pouty lips, his hand
still wrapped around my neck. "The princess has arrived,” He says dramatically,
“and she's about to save her prince. How ironic," he laughs to himself, as the
crowd joins, feeling the need to agree with River's opinions.  
"River, I've known you just a day," Erin shakes her head, standing stiff,
making direct eye contact with River's focused face. "And honestly you're the
most messed up prick I've ever known. Get your nasty hands off of Harry," She
commands, her eyes heaving towards his hand where it meets my sore neck. "Now!"
She adds, her eyes are blazing with anger.
"You guys hear that?" A very much expected heavy laugh bursts out River's
mouth, as he places his free hand on his stomach pretending to look like he
found Erin's serious behaviors funny. 
Surprisingly, the crowd isn't reacting to River this time, instead all standing
straight on their feet, staring at Erin.
"What the fuck? Do you realize what you're doing?" River says between his
laughs, his hand finally falling off of my neck. "You're a chick, what possess
you to think that you could run me?" River says in his normal tone now, as I
take the time to lightly stroke my hand on the pain of the burning flesh on my
arm.
"Well I may be a 'chick' but I've got a father who works for the SOCA and I
could just press a few buttons and he'll be here right here, tugging all of you
in your own jails and you'll be stuck there for years. Don't tempt me River,
you think I won't do that? Why the hell wouldn't I? Aren't you forcing him to
smoke that thing?" Erin's brows are narrowed so stiff, they could literally cut
glass. She takes steps closer, pulling my arm in her hand and a loud hiss
escapes my mouth as I feel the pain of the cigarette that River pressed against
my flesh, sting back. "This is called torture!” Erin’s eyes widen round. “You
do realize that right?" She speaks loud in River's face. For a second it's so
quiet, that I could literally hear the crickets. "You lit his arm on fire, what
kind of person does that? You're messed up!" She points to his chest. 
I could swear everyone in the crowd's jaws are dropped on the ground. 
"Ugh fuck off! You think I'm scared of you? SOCA my ass," River scoffs, looking
away then back at Erin. 
"You think I'm joking? I wil-"
"Erin, stop." I mutter.
"No, Harry you have to stop letting these people take-"
"Erin stop." I say again.
"But Harry-"
"I don't care! Why do you care so much? Just let it go!" I shout at her face,
even though I tend to not to. 
She looks at me for five pure seconds, confusion pouring down her face. I feel
as if the not much energy I acquired is slowly fading away, leaving me weak and
disabled. I just want to get away from this, from being the center of
attention, and for once, just maybe once have people not judge me for who I am.
The funny thing is, they are not even perceived about my sexuality. If they
ever did, all hell would be loose and I'd probably end up deceased on this very
ground. 
Aware of my surroundings, I no longer anticipate and yank my elbow out of
River's hand. Taking quick, long steps between the crowded people, who are
slowly scattering away with quiet mutterings out of their lips.
"Harry!" Erin yells apprehensive from behind, where I had left minutes ago.
Dazing around the sidewalk which follows a trail to the back of the house;
where Erin is, I push the front of my hair to the back, disoriented by what I
do now. 
Turning around, my eyes fall down, meeting a path of white big stones which
seem pretty comfortable to sit on. Looking back, I notice no one coming back
behind me and the music still so loud that the house dazzles. Plopping on the
first big stone, I pull my face in my hands, stroking my face upward.
Erin knows I'm gay...
Erin...knows...I'm gay...
The words finally sink in, and part of my brain shouts at me for being a jerk
and screaming at her whilst all she was trying to do was help me and a part of
my brain convinces me to stay away from her, because she might be homophobic.
But if she is, she wouldn't have stood up for me that way, bringing up her dad
being a spy and all that crap. That proves she's not mad, that she's not
disgusted right? If I could dig out my brain and nail it onto the wall right
now, I would. 
Groaning, I rub my face in my hands once more, resting my elbows on my exposed
knees, from the ripped pants that Erin picked for me.
Erin...
God…how does one person manage to jump into another's life and miserably take
over seventy five percentage of it? How? 
"There you are!" A voice sighs, and I lift my face from my hands turning to the
person, confused.
I feel a very strange feeling creep into my stomach, twisting in figures,
making me feel least confident. 
I notice our staring has no end to it, so I drop my face, turning back to my
previous position, bringing my knees against my chest. Peeking from the corner
of my eyes, Erin walks around the stones standing beside me.
She sighs again, casually sitting down on the grass leaning back on hands, both
stretched out to her behind. 
We just sit there for a second, both of us gazing at the dark sky, just the
roaming music echoing. For a second, I realize how peaceful this seems. Just
both of us quiet, none of us attempting to speak, to say something wrong or
something we'd both be sorry for. It feels peaceful.
"Harry," And there she ruins it.
Looking down my left shoulder, I take in the cool night air. "Hm?"
"Can we talk?" She asks, not demanding but like an actual question. Her tone
isn't forcing me to say yes, it’s giving me a chance to think for my own answer
whether then saying yes just because I feel like I have to, for the pressure
she puts on me.
Nodding, I look down at her round, dark pairs of eyes. "Can we get out of here
first?" 
"Yes, please.”
 
***
"Other than the creepy cricket noises, pile of woods across the lake and god
knows how many creatures are sucking my toes, I kind of like this place." Erin
turns to me, a wide grin on her face.
I can't help but smile at that. Playfully slapping her arm, I then looking back
at the water waving off our bare ankles, the smile glued on my face.
When Erin asked if I knew a place we could talk in peace, the town's lake was
the first thing that came to my mind and much to my expectation, the lake did
seem creepier at nights. The water isn't cold as we reckoned, it's pretty warm
due to the summer season and I'm not complaining. My jeans are folded up to my
knees, both of our shoes kicked to the sides, our bare feet dangling in the
cool water.
"Harry," She beams, splashing water between her feet, playing with it.
She's going to ask if I'm gay, I know it! She's going to ask!
"How do you deal with-“
“I ignore it.”
She looks at me with a blank face, then nods, with a sigh and turns around back
in front of her.
“You’re so brave. So strong. I don’t know how I’d handle all of this,” She
gestures with her hands, throwing them in circles, “I’d probably be home-
schooled or commit suicide or something.”
“Don’t be crazy,” I shake my head, looking down at my reflection in the cool
water, drifting way. 
She shrugs, frowning.
There’s another silence and I’m starting to think she’s never going to bring it
up although somewhere in my mind, I’m willing to get it over with. I just want
to talk about it, and if she’s against my sexuality, I guess we can call it
goodbyes and pretend like two strangers whom never talked before.
“Harry,” She beams again.
I sigh, less nervous and growing confident with the situation.
“Yeah?” 
“Can we-Can you-Uh, ,” She scratches her temple, not making eye contact. “I-
I don’t know, to be honest with you I don’t know what to say.” She stammers,
finally looking her left, at me.
I smirk, looking back at her. “Erin, I’m gay.”
There it went. I've said it. I've just told someone beside my family about my
sexuality; my one and only biggest secret.
She just stares at me, her eyes darting from my left to my right eye.
“I’m sorry if you weren't expecting it. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted
from me, but,” I inhale the night air, feeling the need. “-but I am, I’m gay.
I’m attracted to the male species, and I guess you can start judging me, I
don’t care.” I shrug it off, disconnecting the eye contact, looking back down
in the water, my eyes boring into it.
Somehow, I feel like a load of weight off of my shoulders, off of my chest, off
of my whole body, and I just feel less pressured. Screw it, if she is going to
judge me. Screw it, if she’s going to spread It around the whole entire school
population. I honestly can’t care less, I’ve probably been through worse, and
the whole school acknowledging about my ‘sexuality’ will just probably add a
plus to why I hate life.
“Well, aren’t you going to say something?” I smile at her shocked self.
She looks back at me like a confused fish, and I can’t help but chuckle quietly
at her weird reaction.
“You know I’m not going to judge you right?” Erin says quietly after what felt
like two hours of silence.
I watch her, this time probably me the one with a confused face. 
“You can be gay, bisexual, straight, anything for all I care. You can be
whatever you want, I don’t mind, I really really don’t. Harry I like you for
who you are, for not being rude, selfish, arrogant and obnoxious, for not being
the same as River. I just like you because of the great person you are. You’re
so nice, so brave, I love your humor and your personality, and you’re like a
child sometimes, but then you’re all serious too and I find that so cute. Just
because you’re attracted to the ‘male species’ does not mean I’m going to stop
talking to you.” She shakes her head, with plead. “Now come here, give me a
hug, I want to squeeze the gayness from you.” She smiles, and I just love the
way her mood changes so fast, it’s honestly crazy, I love it.
Leaning in, we both wrap our arms around each of our bodies, a smile curved on
both of our faces. Letting go, I don’t lean back to my earlier position due to
Erin’s grip on my biceps. “I actually you were gay all along,” She smiles wider
now. “The way you look at Louis, the way you’re practically drooling when he’s
saying something, you have to be blind to not notice it.”
I quickly pull my arms out of her hands, terrified of my obviousness. “Am I
that obvious? Jesus, what if he noticed it? Erin if you noticed it on your
first day then Louis for sure knows I like him! What am I going to do now?” I
panic, constantly chewing on my thumb.
“Would you relax?” She giggles, eyeing my reaction. “He kissed you today didn’t
he? Doesn’t that prove he likes you back?”
“But he was drunk!”
“So? Ever heard of drunk words, sober thoughts?” She winks.
I groan, looking up at the dark sky, not convinced actually.
“Hey,” She beams, and I turn my head down at her.
“What?”
“Tell me about the kiss, how was it?” She bites her lip, smiling really hard
through it.
“Excuse me?” I jerk back, raising a brow. “I’m not telling you,” I smirk,
looking away.
“W-what?” She gasps dramatically, and I can just tell there’s a wider grin on
her face. “Come on, Harry!”
“Nope,” I shake my head.
“But we’re practically secret buddies, you can tell me come on I’m desperate as
hell right now!” She frowns, playfully hitting my biceps, tugging on it.
“Fine!” I look at her, annoyed, but not really.
She smiles, her cheekbones flaring up, gosh and she calls me childish…
“How was it? Did you feel the ‘sparks’?” She teases, winking.
I roll my eyes, “No it was nothing.” I lie shaking my head.
“Liar, you’ve been waiting for this probably your whole life and it felt
‘nothing?’ okay yeah sure.” She glares.
“You’re so annoying,” I shake my head, grinning.
“Yeah, but you love me!” She grins back, shrugging a shoulder. “Harry! You’re
being so stubborn, just tell me how it felt. How did you guys kiss? Was it
rough or was it sweet and dreamy? Did it turn you on? Oh oh! Did it cause you a
boner?” She smirks, biting down her full lip.
“Oh, god!” I glare at her, pushing her away. “I hardly think that’s any of your
business.” 
She turns away, muttering something underneath her breath and I quickly gasp at
that.
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing, nothing,” She smiles, putting her hands in the air as defense
“You said something! You swore at me didn’t you?” I glare at her, suspiciously.
“Yeah, I called you a bitch.” She says too casual.
I just shake my head, “It’s getting late..”
“I know, want to go home?”
“My mum’s going to kill me..” I mutter, getting up from our sitting position
feeling the cold air hit my wet legs.
“Help me up!” She reaches her arm, dangling her feet in the water. 
Looking down, I reach her hand, pulling her hand out of the water, hearing her
shutter.
“Cold isn’t it?” I ask, grabbing down for my shoes as I hear her respond a
‘yeah’ from behind.
 
~~~
 
“So are you in love with Louis, or is just a crush?” Erin blurts, as she hops
out of the same black SUV from before.
I hop out after, walking beside her, towards Erin’s house.
“I’d rather not talk about that.”
“You sound like a sixth grader, having a crush for the first time.” She shakes
her head, smiling as we both enter the door of the house, holding open by who
looked like a maid judging from her clothing.
Ignoring Erin’s comparison of me, I just stand in my spot awkwardly, not sure
of what to do, or where to go.
“Did you call your mum yet?” Erin asks, grabbing my wrist, leading me towards
what looked like an endless corridor.
“N..no I didn’t.”
“Are you gunna..?” She asks, still dragging me.
“Nope.”
She chuckles, “Why not?”
I sigh, “because if I do, then she’s going to question me and ask me about
fifty questions on where I am, who I’m with or how the party went and I just
think it’s too late for that, the questions can wait.” I shrug, as Erin pulls
me to a stairway, me following.
“Oh, aren’t you a little badass?” She chuckles as I roll my eyes, finally both
of us ending up in the second floor to the house. 
“Here’s where you can stay for the night,” She opens a tall white door,
revealing a large dark room. Flicking the lights on, she lets my wrist go,
before pulling me inside.
I gaze inside the room, and it’s probably the four times of mine, back at home.
You can’t even call this room a ‘room’ it’s practically the same size as a
banquet hall, Jesus it’s huge!
I try not to overreact in front of Erin, and be an embarrassment so I just nod,
examining the unseen parts of the room.
She walks ahead of me to the other side of the room, pulling out drawers,
taking out pieces of folded clothing and resting them on the queen sized bed. 
God this isn't it normal, Erin is literally living the life.
“Here, change into these.” She nods at the clothing. “They’re sweats, and a tee
shirt.” She approaches back to me, “hope you sleep well, goodnight.” Pecking me
lightly on my cheek, she crosses me, towards the door, shutting it quietly.
 
~~ 
 
I moan from the tapping sun-light against my face, wondering how long I'd been
sleeping. Peeking out from the left eye, I quickly shut it back, not a big fan
of the morning sunlight that came cascading into view. Rolling on my hips to
the right, I stretch my hand out for my usual pillow, slightly disappointed and
confused when my palm didn’t come into contact with it. I pressed my hand on
the soft mattress below me, rubbing it on the surface and feeling no sign of my
pillow.

I yawned and managed to fully open both eyes, slipping one hand under my head,
swallowing strange saliva. As my vision adjusted to the bright sun, the
unfamiliar Scarlett red curtains to my right came into view. 
My body quickly shot up off the bed, as a killer pain slowly led its way to my
temple. I lifted my fingers and slowly rubbed my temples. I squint my eyes at
the illuminating sunlight, looking over my surroundings. I don't miss the
shards of glass poking the backs of my eyeballs. My mouth so dry it felt like
the desert had overtaken it.

The room looks huge, so much bigger than Louis' since his was the last largest
room I've seen.

Louis...

Shit, Louis!

Quickly throwing the sheets off from my lower waist, I shuffle on my bum,
stepping on an extremely soft rug. Looking down, I notice my white Converse's
were still on my feet, which was probably the reason why my feet felt like they
were asleep.

Looking back around the room, my body slowly does a full three sixty as I
remember, I'm in Erin's house. So very clever of me..
Turning around towards the beds direction, I walk to a white nightstand with
two drawers neatly designed with circle patterns. Noticing my phone, I grab it
and press my thumb onto the home button, feeling a sinking feeling in my chest
as I notice that the time is 9:23 AM
Shit shit shit, I'm twenty three minutes late for school
I looked around the room quickly, trying to find any signs of a washroom. Just
then I hear a low knock, echoing in the large room.

I freeze.
"Come in?" I spoke, voice unsure.  Do I just allow people in when its not my
room? 

I see the golden door knob twist, and in comes a pair of pale, thin long legs.

"Mornin' sunshine," Erin grins, sipping on a navy mug as she makes her way in
the room, settling herself on the bed, the sheets still tangled from my
slumber. 

"Erin, do you realize what time it is?" I ask, trying so hard not to sound like
a worried loser, but pretty sure that I sounded like one anyways. 

"No, what is it?" She asks, too calm, as she takes another sip from the mug.
 
"Almost nine thirty, we're late for school!" I try my best to lower my voice
and keep the panic out of it.  

I watch her actions, my eyes slightly wide. She gently places the mug on the
nightstand then walks model-like across me, towards what looked like a body
length mirror. Stopping in front of it, she tears a black elastic band from her
wrist then runs her hand through her hair.

 "Eri-"

"Erin what?" She turns around, a playful smile stretching out on her pink lips.
"Harry, I thought I told you to relax a little? You worry so much that I might
have to do stuff that we'd both regret at the end." She smirks, "well.. just
you."

I narrow my brows and let my lips hitch into a frown "What's that supposed to
mean?"

"Nothing, look you don't have your uniform right?" She asks, as her hands reach
her smooth chocolate brown hair, tying it up in a pony tail.

"No," I respond back, my eyes falling lazily from her hair, back to her eyes.

"Yes, so stay at my house for today-" she started, I let my eyes widen as I
started to interrupt her with 'Are you craz-' but she shushed me and carried on
talking. "Listen to me first," She says seriously, a finger up. I nod twice,
giving her a chance to continue her words even though I knew somewhere in my
mind that I was not going to agree to it
"Stay over at my house for the morning. I'll go back to school but I'll come
back after lunch break so we can go out and chill. You don't have your uniform,
just say yes Harry I swear we'll have so much fun!" She frowns, looking up
through her lashes.

I watch her hopeful eyes for about five seconds, and then finally give in.
"Alright, alright. L'mme call mum she's probably worried sick right now." I
look down at my phone, going through my contacts before a squeal echoes the
room and a pair of thin arms are wrapped around my torso.

I groan. "Errrrin, please," I stay stiffly, her heads pressed against my neck,
strands of her hair tickling my chin.

"S-sorry," She giggles, and stands back, a wide smile on her lips.

I roll my eyes, but smile back at her excitement.

"Okay, go go go call your mum. I'll be downstairs." She instructs
enthusiastically, and I respond a nod as I watch her turn around and exit the
room with one last smile

Honestly, where has Erin been through out the seventeen years? She's so sweet,
so happy, it's unbelievable she's friends with a person like me. I am still not
yet recovered from this. From a girl like her wanting to be my friend. Wanting
to share the same atmosphere as me, wanting to have a normal conversation with
me. I am still not recovered because she actually accepted me for who I am. For
whatever my sexuality is. Nevertheless, she still chose to stay and be my
friend.

Sighing, I turn my phone back on and click on the contacts bar. Finding 'Mum' I
tap on it and bring the phone to my ear, hearing the phone ring.

"Harry?" Her voice is concerned, and I bite my bottom lip uncontrollably, not
sure how to react to her worry.
"Hi mum," My voice comes out nervous. I found myself wishing I wasn't so
blatantly obvious with my emotions.
  
"Baby where are you?" She asks, voice sounding immediately concerned. I glanc
around the room again.

"I'm at my friends' mum." I speak, rubbing my hand across my neck. She’s quiet
for a moment before she questions me on which friend. I allow a small smile to
tug on my lips "You say it like I've got tons of them." I roll my eyes, sitting
on the bed, lazily.

"Harry, who’s this friend? Is it a boy?" She asks, voice coming out in a rushed
way. I can't help but smirk at that as I reply that it was in fact a female
friend.
"Oh," Her voice is low, and I can just imagine the confusion on her face. "Well
I want to meet her one day, is she nice? Is she pretty? Where does she live?
Who are the parents?-"

Oh gosh, mum...

"Mum, you know I'm gay." I speak, as more of a statement to remind her really.

"Yes hun, but I want to know who she is. I'm your mum it's my place to know who
my kids talk to or spend time with." She replies. I could hear some movement on
the other end of the phone and I imagined she was bustling through the kitchen

"Okay, okay, I'll..um..bring her over one day." I reassure her.

"Okay baby that would be lovely. So what are you doing there right now? Are
they treating you well?" She asks.
I smile. My mum, the ever concerned and caring mother. 
"Yeah, I haven't met her parents yet. They're not in the city." City my arse,
more like the universe..

"Oh," She repeats.

"Yeah, but Erin's great. We're going to spend the time here for today-If that's
okay with you.." I trail on.

"Yeah yeah, go ahead." She sounds glad. "Just don't miss your curfew, and don't
forget Gemma's birthday tomorrow.”
 Shit...

"Yeah, how could I forget?" I lightly bring my palm on my forehead, stroking
it. Oh god, I'm a terrible, terrible brother. "Okay mum, take care I'm gunna
hang up now."
  
"Okay baby, I love you."

"Love you too."

Moving the phone back down, I press on the lock button and slide the phone in
my pocket.

Looking around the room for absolutely no reason, I sigh in my place before
settling on my feet and walking towards the door. Pulling on the doorknob, I
open the door, and shut it back.

The corridors of Erin's house look pretty neat. Shimmering, oversized vintage
mirrors on walls. Spotting a steel railing, and crème painted stairs, I walk to
it and head downstairs.
The smell of fresh cooked pancakes already fills up my nostrils, making me
sniff it as if it was a drug.
Pancakes in the morning are literally true happiness.

Turning to the right, my eyes capture a long brown table with countless elegant
chairs around it and a double silver fridge in the corner which I suppose all
belonged in the kitchen. Entering it, I notice Erin's tall figure leaning on
her elbows against the counter.
"So...what'd your mum say?" She places the same navy blue mug on the counter,
then faces me.
"Yes," I nod happily, "she said yes."

"Great," She beams, taking steps towards me before grabbing my wrist. "Get some
breakfast in you, I'll call Samantha she'll be at your service. I want you to
feel home, do whatever you want. I have movies, video games, laptop, and food
in the kitchen, anything for you to kill a few hours. Oh and," She eyes my
body, making me feel least comfortable. "Aren't those pants too tight for your
comfort?" She asks, concerned, making me smile faintly.

"Believe me they are." I nod.

"Okay, I have brand new sweats and extra shirts for you-don't worry they'll fit
you and I've never worn them." She shakes her head, convincingly.

"So I'm going to be here," I look around the kitchen, gesturing my hands in the
air. "all by myself?" I ask, as if I'm about to be stuck in a cage with a
vicious bear. She laughs a melodic laugh and nods.

"Yes, don't worry though okay? I'll be back in two hours." She smiles
sympathetically. Erin's smiles are honestly contagious, and to be honest, the
second prettiest smile after Louis'. If I weren't attracted to men, I'd so try
to hook up with her..you know..if she felt the same way..>

"What are you starin' at?" She laughs, hitting my biceps playfully.
"You're so weird for a girl," I shake my head.
"And you're too weird for a guy."

"S'that supposed to mean?" I ask, one brow rising. "You and your mysterious
words, I swear.."

Erin giggles. "Hey you said it first."

I watch as she walks across me, out the kitchen. Following her, I call out
behind. "Where you going?"

"School.. duh?" A lazy chuckle escapes her lips, her back still facing me.

She stops at the entrance, in front of a double door before swinging one of her
oversized pursed over her arm. I stop behind her, watching as she faces the
mirror hung up on the wall, fixing her collar and adjusting her tie, I watch as
her lips curve into a crooked smile. Letting go of her tie, she turns around,
pecking me on my cheek.
"See you in two hours," She raises her bows and walks outside, stepping on the
porch. I notice the same SUV out in front of the black gates, and Erin hopping
inside with a wave of her hand. She mouths a 'bye' before sliding the doors
shut, and the chauffeur driving off.

My eyes follow the car as it makes a quick beeline, soon disappearing.

Not yet making any movement, I exhale a frustrated breath and turn around on my
feet. Gazing up at the tall mansion in front of me, I shrug my shoulder, "Two
hours in this place...” My eyes travel around the antique decors on the walls,
a happy scoff escaping my lips, "might not sound bad after all."


  ~~
 
"Anything else sir? I’m going to be upstairs."

"No, it’s okay you can go." I confirm, shaking my head at the lady around her
25's, whose name was apparently 'Samantha', dressed in a black pencil skirt,
white button up and a tiny black ribbon around her collar.
Ever since Erin left, I’ve been struggling with keeping myself busy with every
little thing and it’s been half past two hours since she’s left, judging by the
large clock on the wall that says; 2:42
A low burp escapes my lips, as I lift up the big bowl of popcorn off of my
chest, placing it beside my feet, on the table. Pulling them down, I dig my
hand in my back pocket, taking my phone out.
Lazily going through my contacts, I stop by Erin’s name. Tapping on it, I wait
for the phone to dial. Two rings, three rings, five rings, and I suppose it’s
probably on silent or she’s just not out of the class yet.
Indolently throwing the phone beside me on the couch, I get up out of my couch
with a huff escaping my lips. Walking out of the ‘living room’ or just the
‘chilling’ room as Erin calls it, I look ahead of the endless corridors,
honestly not sure of what else to do, since I’ve practically emptied the
fridge, watched through about five movies, and other little things to keep me
busy.
Walking back to the previous room, I pick up my phone deciding to text Erin
this time.
Finding her name on my phone again, I start typing;
 
To Erin;
“Bored as hell. Got nothing else to do.”
Shoving the phone in my pocket, I walk to the kitchen even though I’ve ate so
much I’m not even sure how I can manage to still stay up on my feet.
I feel a vibration in my front thighs, and I know it’s probably-hopefully a
response text from Erin.
Taking it out, I’m glad as the banner reads “New Text Message from Erin”.
Tapping on it, I read the text.
 
From Erin;
Sorrrry babe, I’ve got stuff to tell you when I get home. You’re gunna be so
surprised! Don’t worry though, its nothing  bad.. xx
“Nothing bad”? I’m going to be “surprised”? Sometimes I just have to complain
with the way this girl has with words.
 
To Erin;
Get home now! I’m so close to leaving, I swear.
 
 
From Erin;
 
Jeez Harry you’re going to thank me later though. I’m almost home xx
 
 
To Erin;
 
Okay, HURRY.
 
Locking the phone, I slide it down my pocket once more and just stand in my
position. Flashbacks from yesterday keep wondering in my brain, popping out
every second, and I just wish I could relive it, feel Louis’ perfect shaped
lips on mines again. Then when I think about it, it drives me to the edge
because I just can’t apprehend that I’ve kissed Louis Tomlinson’s lips. No, he
kissed my lips. Yes, that’s exactly what he did. I didn’t do anything, he came
up to me. He kissed me. Without any warning, without me even saying anything to
him, causing him to react that way. Could that prove…that maybe just maybe he’s
also into the male species? Because why else would he just press his own lips
to the opposite sex? Let alone me! The schools loser, the one he himself picks
on literally every day.  I just don’t understand it…but I know nowhere in hell
is Louis having feelings towards me, that doesn’t even happen to me in my
dreams, only when I daydream which I still feel guilty for feeling that way,
for positioning Louis the way I like, not to mention how I took advantage of
him during the kiss. God, the kiss… After six years, I’ve finally got a taste
of them. I finally know how my own pair of lips would feel against his
beautifully designed ones, and God it feels out of the world.
My never ending thoughts are interrupted when there’s a loud bell echoing the
empty house. I hear loud clicking of heels and I know it’s Samantha upstairs,
approaching for the door/
“I’ll get it!” I yell towards the stairs where she yells back an ‘okay’.
Walking the door’s direction, the bell rings again and I can see a shadow and a
figure of a tall body behind the glass, smudgy designed doors.
Grabbing the knob, I pull on it, opening the door.
“Hello,” She smirks, wrapping her arms over my neck.
“Hi,” I manage to say, as I feel myself suffocate with the less air I’m barely
consuming. “Erin let go,” my words come out muffled as my face is already being
blocked by her long, dark brown hair.
“Sorry,” She giggles letting go, a wide smile on her face, as always.
“Are you going to tell me or no?” I skim to the major topic, watching her as
she takes off her denim jacket, throwing it on a rack.
I grow impatient as she takes her sweet time, tying her long hair into a
ponytail, looking at me with a teasing smile.
“Erin!” I groan, pulling her by her arm into the room where I had been sitting.
Gently putting her down on her bum, I sit across her on an arm chair, watching
her intensely as I gesture with my hands in front of me, signaling her to make
a go.
“Well… I went to school, it was pretty empty, then I opened my locker and got
my books and-“
“Yeah yeah yeah,” I gesture with my hands again, telling her to hurry. “Was
Louis there?”
She freezes, watching me, an evil smile upon her lips again. “It’s not just a
crush is it?” She asks and I just stare. “You love him. He’s all you can think
about...” She shakes her head, the smile becoming faint.
For a second, I pause, letting her words sink in. Do I? Do I actually love
Louis? I don’t…I probably don’t…I don’t’ think I am in love with him, but he is
always in my mind, and he is all I can think about. Am I actually in love with
him?
“I-I n-no, can you get back to what you were saying?” I stammer, feeling
worried for a particular reason I’m not aware of.
“Okay y-yeah, what was I saying?” She cocks her head to the side, clueless.
I roll my eyes at her forgetfulness, “Louis! You were talking about Louis! Did
he come to school or not?”
“Oh, no he didn’t.” She says simply, shaking her head.
“What do you mean he didn’t? Can you get into details?”
“Yeah apparently he was sick or something. I didn’t see River at all either.”
She chews on her bottom lip, her tone concerned.
“He was sick?” I ask, feeling a frown creep onto my face.
Erin shrugs. “That’s what people were saying.”
“I wanna see him.” My face falls on to the floor, and I can’t even imagine
Louis covered in blankets, coughing or having a burning fever upon his
forehead. It hurts to imagine that and I just want to be with him. I want to
comfort him, feed him hot soup and watch him frown at it because I know how
much he dislikes the liquid. I want to have him covered in soft blankets and
just be there to make him feel better.
“Relax Harry, I don’t even think it’s true. You should know the people at
school better than me, they just carry rumors and spread it. Plus even if he is
sick, it’s probably nothing. Probably because of the shots he took yesterday…
shots do fuck up your stomach,” Erin nods, and I know she’s trying her best to
comfort me but I can’t help it, I just want to see him.
“Tell you what, want me to call him? To assure he’s okay?” Erin beams.
My eyes dart into hers, and I think for a second about the idea but have my
self nod.
“Okay, do you know his number? Because I only have River’s.” She says his name
with so much disgust that it makes me want to hug her for how much common we
have.
“By heart,” I smirk to her question and tell her the numbers as she rings Louis
phone.
I watch Erin as she bites her lip, looking back at me. It only takes ten
seconds to pass by for Erin to hang the phone and drop it to her lap. She
shakes her head, “He’s not picking it up.”
“Okay call River.” I suggest and she smiles at me before having her thumb work
back at her phone. She brings the phone to her ear and lets out a short sigh.
“Hello?” She looks into my eyes, nodding, indicating that he had picked it up.
“Kelly?” She looks at me confused.
“Erin, it’s Erin. Having a hangover eh?” She looks at me cooly, gesturing with
her hands that she was handling this.
“Yeah, you took quite the amount of shots yesterday along with Louis. Yeah
speaking of Louis, do you know where he is? He wasn’t at school.” She asks,
shooting me a comforting wink as I just watch her intensely, chewing on my
thumb.
“He’s at yours?” She asks.
Wait, so Louis is at Rivers…
“Uh-huh,” She nods. “Oh really? Yeah well he’s in fact sitting right here.
We’ll come over, just don’t pull on another dick move I swear to God River I
was not kidding about what I said about my father yesterday.” Her voice rises,
and I can tell she’s serious.
My mind goes back to what she said about me being beside her… River’s
questioning about me... why?
I continue watching her as she listens to the other line, her brows narrowed
and the assuring smile disappeared long gone.
“Okay wake him up then,” She pauses. “No uh don’t tell him, you don’t have to
tell him. Pop us some popcorn, we’ll be there in ten.” She sighs then hangs up,
looking at me worried.
“Erin?”
“Harry?”
“What did you just tell him?”
“I’m sorry but I ‘ave a plan and if it works you can take me out to dinner,”
She smirks, grabbing my hand, pulling me off of my seat.
I pull my hand back, causing her to spin around, facing me, her smirk replaced
with two furrowed brows.
“Erin we are not going River’s house! I can’t believe you would even come up
with this idea. I reckon you forgot the part where he said that Louis is also
there. How do you expect me to face him after last night? Are you nuts?”
She takes a deep breath, looking at the sky, muttering words underneath her
breath.
“How about you stop worrying for once and let me handle this for you. The last
time I told you to let me handle something for you, you ended up kissing the
boy of your dreams, and who knows what the plan I’ve come up with is going to
end you up this time. Maybe put an end to your little virgin life, you can
never know.” She bites her lip, dragging me to God knows where.
I can’t help but shutter at her last statement. I mean I know Louis may not be
a virgin but me losing my one and only, virginity, which I claim as a very
precious, to Louis Tomlinson. Then, he’d be my first at everything. Except for
my first kiss, which Erin took away from me.
“I can’t believe you’re my first kiss,” I frown.
“Excuse me?” Her mouth parts, a low gasp scooting out of her mouth.
“I always imagined Louis to be my first, and you took that opportunity away
from me.” I admit, as we both jog up the stairs, walking into Erin’s room.
“That wasn’t my fault at all, it was just a game and a friendly kiss. It didn’t
mean anything so…” She shrugs, pulling her uniform shirt over her head,
exposing a black bra.
“Oh my god,” I groan, as I turn around, collapsing on her bed on my face.
This girl has no shame at all.
“Relax you gay boy,” She chuckles as I hear clothing put on.
“You’re stripping in front of me, how’s that known to be normal?” I muffle
against the bed sheets.
“Eh, I don’t mind as long as you’re not raping me or anything.” She says as I
hear more of clothing being switched.
“Are you done?” I ask as there’s not a lot of sound anymore.
“Yeah,” She says as I turn over on my back, pulling a pillow under my head,
finding my comfort.
I notice the way Erin can pull any outfit. She’s wearing a black bands tee-
shirt and writings printed all over the front, and it tucked loosely in her
denim shorts.
She grins at me as she’s sat on her bum, tying the laces of her red converses.
She stands up once she’s done, and walks over to her mirror. I watch her every
move, examining what it’d be like to be a girl and have a ‘girly’ life and
honestly I’m convinced as being glad with my gender.
She twists the end of what looks like a lipstick and leans in the mirror,
painting her lips with the red stick.
I scrunch my nose at that, “How are you comfortable with that substance on your
lips?”
“Eh, it’s the masterpiece at the end that matters.” She sends me a kiss through
the mirror before throwing her long purse around her neck.
I roll my eyes, shuffling on the bed, jumping off of it.
“Shall we go now, majesties?” I force a smile as she smirks at me, interlocking
her arm with mine as we get down the stairs.
 
~~~
 
“Your car’s pretty cool for a girl,” I say as Erin smiles, her eyes on the
road.
The car’s bright red, without a roof and the speeding max is 280 which is A
LOT! I always wondered how it’d feel to be filthy rich and Erin does a pretty
great job demonstrating it.
“Only a couple of lights and we’re there, just saying.” Erin reminds.
I nod, not intending to show any sign of worry but my heart feels like it’s
going to burst out of my chest, for God’s sake.
A few more minutes and continuously wiping sweat out of my palms, I take in the
familiar crème colored mansion and know that we’re here.
Erin parks her car in front of the gates of the house and we both unbuckle our
seat belts. Standing out of our seats, I lick my full lips, running my hands up
my face, nervousness hitting me at its best.
“Don’t be nervous,” Erin walks around the car meeting me on the other side. I
feel as she’s going to pull me into her usual bear hugs but she just holds me
delicately, resting her head on my shoulder. We both pause, sucking in the
tension, and soon enough Erin lets go of me but interlocks our fingers instead.
Dragging me like she always does, we both pause at the porch, Erin tapping on
the doorbell, continuously. I want to tell her to stop, but for some reason I
just decide not to.
The door opens, revealing an annoyed River, just in his trousers that are too
supposed to be resting on his hips, not all the way down his knees where also
revealing his black TOPMAN briefs.
“Ever heard of patience?” River says tiredly, as he runs a hand through his
tousled hair.
“Ever heard of clothes?” Erin responds, casually stepping inside, our hands
still held.
River shuts the door, as he walks behind us. “What? Are you two dating now?” He
asks, scoffing and I can just tell he’s smirking.
I don’t respond as I try to quickly tug my hand away but Erin holds onto it
tighter, not allowing me to let go.
She pulls me into the same large room from yesterday, both of plopping onto the
couch. “No you see, I love Harry. Knowing how big his dick is that would just
be unfair considering I’m just taking advantage of his large buddy.”
My breath hitches as my cheeks heat up painfully, looking to the right of the
couch I shoot daggers at Erin who just bites her lip, shrugging.
River’s laugh echoes from the kitchen as he comes back from there, collapsing
on the couch across. “Big dick eh?” River smirks at me and my cheeks flare at
his teasing. Looking on the floor, I gulp hard as River chuckles lazily, taking
a sip of his coke.
“Hey, where’s Louis?” Erin asks and my thoughts are thrown away quickly, just
focused on Louis.
“Upstairs, taking a piss for all I can remember.” River comments, shrugging.
“Harry why don’t you go check upstairs, while me and River chat… about stuff…”
Erin smiles at River who smirks like an idiot.
I look at her in disbelief, is she out of her mind? Or is this her little
‘plan’? I know I can trust Erin, but me going up to find Louis just doesn’t
sound like it’s going to do any good to me after the incident from yesterday
which I classify as a dream come true matter.
She nods towards the stairs and I get up with a huff. Looking at River, I
notice a mischievous grin drawn on his face as he’s too busy eye-raping Erin.
Leaving them alone behind, I step onto the steps of the stairs with more
nervous on each step as I get closer.
Finally landing on the flat surface of the second floor, I just pause on my
feet, thinking for a minute. What am I supposed to say? What am I even going
for right now? What would be the best to talk about? Most importantly of them
all, what if he doesn’t even want to talk to me and regrets his life for the
kiss?
Running a shaky hand through my hair which Erin held up in a quiff, I bite on
my thumb. Quick, Harry think of something…
“Um, Hi?” A voice calls behind and I turn at it, forgetting how to breathe as
I’m face to face with a topless Louis. Holy frick, he’s hot!
His tattoos are designed so nicely, and there his new chest tattoo, reading It
Is what It Is, God now I know what my new mission is going to be about; finding
what the hell the meaning behind it is, Jesus, Louis is so hot, everything
about him is so hot, I could just melt on my knees right now.
“Mute. You’re mute.” Louis nods and I look at him blankly.
“Uh, R-River invited Erin and I-“
“River invited you?” He looks at me in disbelief, his voice mocking. “That’s
quite a joke you got there,” He brushes my shoulder, walking across me inside a
different room.
“G-go ask him, he did! He said my beanie was here from last night.” I follow
him inside the room as I watch Louis fix his hair in front of the mirror.
“Last night? You mean the party?” He asks, continuing his work of art.
“Y-yeah,” I breath out, so scared he’s going to bring up the kiss.
“Harry, I’ve got something that needs to be cleared up.” He turns back from the
mirror, grabbing his black tank top on the bed from yesterday, putting it over
his head, no longer allowing me to gauge his holy body. “Now don’t fucking
pretend like you don’t remember a shit because I know you do! The kiss from
yesterday meant nothing to me and it was mistake, don’t fucking think I’m gay
or shit, ‘cause am not. The kiss was a mistake, and I was drunk. I hope you
didn’t tell anyone because you know I can make your life a living hell.”
Narrator’s P.O.V
The room is silent for a few moments, and no one makes any movements. Harry’s
stood still, arms glued to his side, looking at the small ripple in Louis’ tank
top that tells him his belly button is underneath that spot. He is looking, but
he isn’t really seeing. He is more in a daze, letting Louis’ words sink in. His
throat is tight and he finds himself struggling to keep himself from crying, he
doesn’t look up to meet Louis’ eyes, because he knows that if he did, his cover
would be blown, he would start crying, sobbing, screaming, anything. If he does
he would hit Louis, anywhere he could reach, over and over again until he was
able to convince himself that he didn’t love him. But Harry can’t do any of
that, so instead he stands there, stone still, taking even and silent breaths,
staring at the spot on Louis’ shirt.  
Harry finds himself wishing he could fall down a hole in the floor, and never
come back. He finds himself wishing he could be invisible so the boy in front
of him couldn’t see him. The boy that’s currently shooting daggers with his
eyes, the boy he loves so much, the boy he’d take any risk for at any time, and
probably the only boy that Harry had ever loved, is now spitting his hate for
the kiss they shared, claiming it as a ‘mistake’. Harry decides right there and
then that no matter what, he won’t give Louis the satisfaction of saying the
kiss was a mistake, because to Harry, it wasn’t. He enjoyed the kiss, it’s
everything he ever wanted and dreamed it would be, and for a moment he thought
Louis liked it too. Knowing that he’s wrong and the other boy dislikes him with
all his guts just makes Harry want to stop breathing. Louis snaps his fingers,
getting Harry’s attention. Harry swallows and struggles to remember the
question asked of him.
“N-no I didn’t tell anyone,” Harry gulps, his voice shaky, he feels the tears
spring to his eyes and he clenches his teeth together in an attempt to stop the
tears that are planning on trickling down his face. Louis takes a step closer,
watching Harry closely, while looking the least bit amused.
“The kiss was nothing, nuh-thing! So don’t start crying and acting like it was,
because it wasn’t," Louis pauses for a moment, letting a cruel smirk cross his
face. “In fact, the only time I’ve thought about it since it happened was when
I woke up and brushed my teeth so hard, my gums bled!” He finishes, spitting
his words like venom, tone so harsh that Harry feels his heart literally stop
for a few moments. Harry shakes his head and takes a step back, closing his
eyes, not wanting to believe that this was the boy he thought he was in love
with.  Louis had done some harsh things in the past, but he had never sounded
so cruel.
“I.am.not.gay.” Louis whispers to Harry’s face, almost sounding like he is
trying to convince himself that he wasn’t gay rather than he is convincing
Harry. “Say something! Dammit! Tell me you didn’t like the kiss and it was a
mistake!” Louis barks, his nostrils flaring with frustration.  Harry stands
there, eyes squeezed shut and hands clenched at his side. He doesn’t want to
say anything at wrong, hell, he doesn’t want to say anything at all. But he
feels his anger slowly rise in him. He feels his frustration reach the brink,
and eyes flying open as he steps forward into Louis’ personal space.
“Mistake?!” He starts, voice loud, deeper than normal. “I will not tell you it
was a mistake! And I will not fucking stay silent and inflate your ego even
more. I will not deal with your ego, pull your head out of your ass, Louis.
It’s not a hat. I liked the kiss, get it? LIKED IT! I’ve been waiting so long
for the kiss, I’ve fucking dreamt of that kiss! You aren’t gay? Why don’t you
tell that to the drunk you, because you really seemed to be into it! You didn’t
seem so straight when you were nibbling on my lip and you didn’t seem so
straight when you were holding onto my neck, trying to take it further. I
refuse to stand here and let you bat me around like I’m nothing. At…At least I
know who I am! At least I know what I like!” Harry is crying by this point.
Louis is still stood straight, his face almost expressionless, watching the big
green eyes in front of him swirl with anger and sadness. He opens his mouth to
speak but Harry holds his hand up, stopping him.
“No..You don’t get to speak, I get to finish first. At least I'm not afraid to
admit that I'm gay. That's what I think of you, I think you're afraid. You get
to act all tough, you get to bully people around. I think you're scared inside.
I think you enjoyed the kiss, and that scares the hell out of you. I think
you're a coward. And just plain mean…” Harry glance around the room, spying his
beanie by the bed, he bents down and grabs it as he turns and makes his way
towards the door, the room stays silent. As he gets to the door Louis speaks,
causing Harry to stop in his tracks.
“Harry…” Is all he says. Harry just stands there, on the line from the room to
the hallway, refusing to turn around. He shakes his head, sliding the beanie
over his curls.
“No…You don’t get to stop me now…You get to watch me walk away…You get to sit
and think about your actions. Let me know when you’ve got your head on
straight, or don’t. I won’t be waiting for your call.” Harry walks out of the
room. By the time he hits the bottom step he breaks into a run. He runs past
Erin, he runs out of the door, he runs down the driveway. He just keeps
running.Because sometimes running is all you can do.
 
 _________
 
 
Impatient. That's all Harry could feel for two straight days. After confessing
his one and only secret to the boy he loved and unfortunately still loves for
over six years. Harry isn't sorry, hell he isn't sorry at all. Maybe the
tiniest bit, but only for blinding himself, for not allowing himself to accept
how much of a prick this boy he thought he wanted to take risks for was.
Certainly, that's the only thing Harry feels sorry about. Nevertheless, he had
thought about a spectacular plan with Erin, and eager to put a start to it. 

It's Monday, and Harry was aching for this day to arrive. 

After getting dressed into his white button up uniform and black, tight
trousers, he skips downstairs as his fingers are busying with the long silky
tie around his collar. 

Fixing it just the way it's supposed to be presented, he turns a corner towards
the kitchen, smiling as his mother's back is turned around, her delicate hands
baking the curly haired boy’s favorite goods. 

"Morning," He beams, wrapping his arms around Anne's tiny figure. 

Tilting his face to the side, he pecks a light kiss on her cheek, letting go of
her waist and standing by her side.

"Aren't you in a good mood?" Anne grins, as she spreads the cream on the
crackers in a wide, rectangular tray. 

"Mm, those look good." Harry eyes his mother's great wonder. "You’re going to
Ms. Eduar’s right?” Harry's eyes travel over the movements of his mum's
fingers. 
“Not sure, she didn’t tell me if she’s available or not.” Anne responds.
“But Erin’s coming over tonight,” Harry whines, looking at his mother’s focused
eyes.

A faint smile grows on his mother's face as she finishes the spread on the
crackers. "Harry," She sighs, dropping the spatula, looking at Harry. "You seem
to be talking about her all the time and I really want to meet this young lady.
Why don't you just invite her for dinner? We can have dessert, get to know each
other," Anne trails, reaching for Harry's face, gently caressing and brushing
his cheekbones. 

Harry watches his mum's saddening face and he could just melt under her soft
tone. Her eyes are a bit droopy, her tone pleading, a pout formed on her
lips. How could Harry even think of saying no to that? 

He smiles, nodding his head as he pulls her hand away from his face only to
meet it with his lips. Gently pressing a kiss on her knuckles, he looks back at
her, the smile still glued onto his face.

"Getting a little jealous over here," A voice whines from behind, making both
of the bodies turn around to meet the older child's squinted eyes. 

"C'mere," Harry chuckles softly gesturing Gemma to join their family group
hug. 


>>>>


"You've got some guts my friend," Erin pats the tall boy's shoulder, shaking
her head.

"I don't know how I'm going to do it,” Harry shakes his head, “how I'm going to
pretend like he doesn't exist. Erin, I don't think I can do it," Harry's voice
drops, along with his face. 

"Don't be stupid! It's for the better and I promise you it's going to work and
if it doesn't I'm at your service. You can treat me as however of a servant you
want." Erin smiles, reassuringly. 

Harry finds himself worried but also in the need of watching Louis suffer. 

"Okay," Harry mutters after a deep exhale. 

The bell for the first period goes on. Harry wants to stop the shaking on his
legs, his torso feels so stiff and it aches him because the nervousness feels
like a killer. Harry can't remember being this nervous after the memorable kiss
they shared. Damn, that kiss...

Slowly, people arrive inside. Some chatting about River's party, some worrying
about the presentation they are to do right away this morning also where part
one of Harry and Erin's plan’s going to take place in. 

Harry's so nervous, he feels like he could throw up any second. That one person
and his sick mate still haven’t arrived. Harry wants to get over with it very
quickly, even though most part of him just wants to enjoy every bit of Louis'
soon-to-happen annoyance.

"Stop shaking, I can see you shaking," Erin, to Harry's right, whispers as both
of their eyes are darting at the door. 

"I can't help it," Harry whispers through his gritted teeth, helplessly
watching the door with impatient eyes. 

About two minutes later, Harry and Erin both find themselves leaning back
against their seats, eyes relaxing to its normal size, yet Harry's body is
still tensed.

The curly boy does his best to avoid the two figures who just walked into the
room, both taking their usual seats at the back. 

Harry feels Erin's assuring grip on his right bicep, he takes a deep breath,
then very slowly releases it out.

He knows that all it will take is one eye contact from Louis and boom, his
little plan with Erin goes down the drain. 

After what feels about three minutes passing by of just plan touch ups with
Erin, Mrs. Urban eventually walks in the class with folders and stacks of paper
work clutched against her chest.

She does a little 'shh' with her index finger upon her lips at the crowd to the
back whom still were chatting. 

Taking her seat at the very front of the class by the window, she hums as she
goes through her folders then sets them down, making direct eye contact with
her students.

"Hope you all had a great weekend," She eyes the mini crowd in front of her,
receiving a chorus of mutters. "As you all should know, today's the
presentation where you're going to read your essay and discuss it with your
classmates. No fidgeting, mumbling, talking behind your paper, avoiding the
class, and most importantly everyone must present. I don't care if you're not
ready, nor don't feel like presenting because like I've just said everyone's
going to present." She finishes with a forced smile as she wets her index
finger then flips the stacks papers in front of her. 

"But what if you don't have it?" One of the twins hollers from the back, her
hand reaching the roof.

Mrs. Urban cocks her head towards the girl, "I'm sorry did you not hear what I
just?" She shakes her head, a mocking smile on her face. "Everyone's presenting
hun, I'm not accepting no's." She nods, lightly slamming her hands on the
wooden table. 

Harry’s not angry or complaining towards the teacher's demanding attitude in
fact he finds himself glad because quite frankly his plan's working out pretty
fine so far.
“Let me just ask, raise your hand if you actually have your essay done.” Mrs.
Urban asks teasingly.
Harry lifts his arm proudly, as Erin watches him, a large grin on her face.
Harry wants to turn around to see Louis’ reaction or whether his hand is up or
just to see his beautiful face because hell he’s missed it so much. Normally
his weekend would go by him purposely walking across Louis’ house to get to his
aunt’s or he would ask to do Louis’ homework and all those reasons were just to
see Louis’ face.
“Get your essays out,” Mrs. Urban instructs as she pulls her large black folder
which the whole class or most knows as the mark book.
Harry already has his essay in front of him, he’s never been so ready for a
presentation or anything in general.
“We’ll go in rows, so Declan and Jennifer, you’re up first.”
The brown haired tall boy sighs as he stands up walking in front of the class.
Eying everyone, he takes a deep breath and begins. “We’re going to talk about
politics…”
>>>>
“Thank you Sam and Josh, besides the laughing you guys did pretty good.” Mrs.
Urban nods carelessly as she hands Sam their mark.
Mrs. Urban looks up Harry and Erin’s way. “Erin you’re up.”
Erin puts on her best smile, sitting straight. “Miss, I wasn’t here for the
project-“
Mrs. Urban interrupts, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah I forgot.” Her eyes move
to the left, meeting Harry’s.
“Harry and…” She looks at a paper which Harry guesses as the list of the people
with their partner's names. “Harry and Louis, you're up.”
Harry takes another of his deep breaths as he picks up the paper and walks
between desks, finally standing tall in front of the whole class.
He ignores the other person that practically shows off a forced image and a
groan from his lips while pushing his chair to the back. Standing up, River
pats him on the back, chuckling softly, his signature smirk on his face.
Louis looks annoyed, rather than pissed like he usually displays him as.
Harry’s eyes are glued on Erin’s half worried ones.
After two such long days, Harry’s going to be close to Louis, practically stand
in his personal space and Harry already feels a high temperature upon his
forehead.
Louis finally makes his way to the front of the class like Harry had, and
stands to the left of Harry, including an unnecessary gap between them. He
folds his arms across his chest, and does not miss the irritated roll from his
eyes.
Harry can see this from the corner of his left eye, but he tries to ignore and
act as cool as he can, because today, after six years, for the first
time, Harry’s going to be in control.
“Can I start Miss?” Harry smiles, cocking his head to the left, towards Mrs.
Urban’s way.
“Whenever you’re ready,” She smiles back.
Harry clears his throat, nodding at Erin to assure he’s ready and is going to
start.
He looks at his supposedly short essay, not finding the need to read off of it
because honestly he’s practiced this moment probably over thirty times. The boy
had memorized the entire essay for goodness sake.
“My-I mean our topic is actually a mix of topics. We’re going to talk about
equalities of gays, gay marriage, and how gays are treated poorly.”
Harry hears snickering and the crowd mutter about his topic but that’s the
least of Harry's worries right now. He swallows hard, trying to even out his
breathing. He can see Louis shifting from the side and no matter how much he
convinces himself he’s ready and he could do this, he still couldn’t adjust
himself to the new action of courageously talking for himself, and speaking out
the things he’d like.
“Okay begin,” Mrs. Urban blurts and Harry nods to himself.
“Gay marriage should be legalized because it is uncivilized and unmerited. Our
civil rights and the Constitution give us many liberties. One of our civil
liberties is the pursuit of happiness, which homosexual people are not allowed
to chase. They cannot be married to the person they love and it violates their
freedoms. In Alaska, Nevada, Montana, Oregon, Utah, Nebraska, Missouri,
Michigan, North Dakota, Ohio, Kentucky, Oklahoma, Kansas, Louisiana, Arkansas,
Georgia, Mississippi, Texas, and Alabama, not only is gay marriage banned, but
so are civil partnerships. Others might ask why gay marriage should be
legalized, but my question is this: why should other people be able to choose
who marries who? If a man and a woman get married, no one seems to care. They
are two people who feel affection for one another and those two people want to
start a family. If we change the scenario a little bit and a man and a man, or
a woman and a woman, try to get married it causes uproar. They are not allowed
to be married or raise a family together. Imagine waking up one day to a world
that was completely opposite from the world we went to sleep in, meaning gay
people are now straight and all straight people are now gay. Do you think the
newly straight people would fight for the newly homosexual people’s rights?
America is the land of the free, but not free to marry whomever they would
like. After everything straight people have put homosexual people through, in
this scenario, homosexual people would most likely vote for their rights
because they would want their rights to be voted for. We are equals in this
world whether we are Black, White, Hispanic, Indian, or any other race for that
matter. Why should we not be equals based on sexual orientation?”
[Essay from http://teenink.com/hot_topics/pride_prejudice/article/245702/]
Harry reads the last part, turning to his left, glaring at the boy who’s eyes
are now facing the floor.
“Why is it a matter if we’re attracted to the same gender?” He spits the words
like venom, looking straight at him.
Louis does not lift his head up or make a move. Harry feels encouraged because
he’s actually speaking what his mind is telling him to up until Louis finally
decides to speak up.
“Okay but nobody told them to choose that lifestyle. If they chose to
be gay then that’s their fault, they should have known better.” He shrugs
antagonisticly, disagreeing to Harry’s opinion.
“You know, Louis is kind of right here,” Mrs. Urban speaks, chewing on her pen.
Harry’s mouth drops to the ground, as he watches both Mrs. Urban and Louis in
surprise. “They should’ve known better?” Harry repeats Louis, his voice rising
with disgust. “How should they control what they feel? No they don’t fucking
‘choose that lifestyle’-“
“Language Harry!” Mrs. Urban cuts but Harry’s too into his words to give a
damn.
“If they could ever actually ‘choose’ the lifestyle they had wanted there
wouldn’t even be such thing as gays because believe me nobody wants to be
treated so filthy and disgusting by pricks like you.” Harry looks at him dead
in the eye and like they say, if looks could kill Louis would be drop dead on
the floor right now. Harry shakes his head at the crowd in front of him then
drags his head back towards Louis. Looking deep into his icy blue eyes, he
shakes his head one more time, then goes to the teacher’s desk, slamming the
essay pages in front of her making her gasp.
“Mr. Styles, I don’t appreciate this kind of attitude in my class! I’m so
disappointed in you.” She panics, receiving a scoff from Harry’s mouth.
“You’re all unbelievable.” Then he walks out of the class.
Harry’s P.O.V
I could feel the tears I’ve been managing to hold sting in the corner of my
eyes. I could feel them slowly pour down my numb cheeks. Sniffing, I reach to
wipe them away with my sleeve as I continue running towards the boy’s washroom.
Slamming the door open, I step inside, shutting it close behind me. I reach for
the lock and twist it, my hand shaking destructively. Panting bunglingly, I
find myself in the need to rest my burning forehead against the door.
Swallowing hard, I turn around. Pressing my back to the white tiled wall and I
slowly slide down, my bottom soon reaching the floor. I let out very slow
breaths, just thinking about what’s there for me to do now. Louis is one
homophobic bastard. I hate him so much, but I know I’ll never stop loving him
either. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense. I don’t even know how I
feel, whether I want to get out of here and see his beautiful face or whether I
want to stay here for the rest of my life. My eyes are probably swollen and
puffy from the sobbing. I keep my voice quiet, sitting on the cold washroom
floor. I feel pathetic, but I keep myself here so I don’t have the urge to step
out and say anything I’m going to regret. So I just keep sobbing, feeling
pathetic for it, but just sobbing. Attaching my knees to my chest, I hug it
tight until I can feel my knuckles whitening. It feels like lead around my
chest. It's impenetrable. Nothing nice can get in, and I feel heavy and
weighted. All I want to do is sleep or avoid others, and nothing can lift that
weight. My brain moves slowly, but most of the sensation comes from my chest.
My body is pinned, trapped, and isolated from my interests or happiness. Like a
thick glass wall between me and Louis. Like we’re destined to be the way we
are, always apart from each other and never together. I feel like my feelings
towards Louis is a black hole. I’m stuck and can’t get out. I have no strength
to do anything, like I'm a rag doll. I feel though there’s a heavy, cold
blanket wrapped around my chest making it difficult to breathe or move. My mind
is lost in a deep, dark cave with no way out. It feels hopeless and lifeless.
There are no colors and everything is shades of black and gray. Everything
seems meaningless. There isn't any point in doing anything.
The boy I can swear I love with all of my heart is against what I am as a
person. I’d rather have someone stab me multiple times with daggers than have
this happening.
I sniffle and wipe the tears from my eyes, his words playing over in my mind as
if they're on an infinity repeat. The tears never seem to end either, and I am
starting to think I'll never get over it.
Until I hear light knocks on the door behind me.
“Harry are you there? Open up!” the quiet voice belongs to Louis.
Now why is he here? To judge me even more or hit me for speaking up to myself?
“Harry please!” He begs as he continues knocking, his voice almost like a
whisper.
Of course, he wouldn’t want to be seen or heard when he’s practically begging
me to do something for him.
But I don’t look up from my knees that my face was buried into. I just hug it
tighter to my chest; my fingers digging into it as I listen to the knocks and
his pleading voice again and again, over and over until I finally groan softly
into my knees, standing up with weak legs.
Facing the closed door, I shut my eyes letting slow breaths out. Reaching for
the lock, I twist it back to hear a tick indicating it’s unlocked. Lightly
pulling on the doorknob I twist that as well and slowly open the door. I look
at him and could tell his eyes're filled with something different because I’ve
never seen him this way before and he’s probably never seen me look this way
either. There’s hurt in Louis’ eyes, making me just a bit curious as to what he
wanted. I can see the hurt in his eyes slowly fade away because soon his stares
become absolutely emotionless.
He enters the washroom, making me take small steps back. Slowly shutting the
door, he doesn’t break the staring. As the door is fully closed, he leans
against it, as I sniffle one more time onto the pads of my palm.
Just as his lips part to say something I cut him off, staring right at him with
my hands clenched together into a fist, glued to my sides.
"Do you know how much that hurt?" I ask quietly, sniffling afterwards. I knew
exactly that he knew what I was talking about, and it’s his turn to say
something but I continue talking. "It hurt a lot. More than you think. After
six years of patiently waiting for you to finally acknowledge the love I had
for you, you treated it like it was nothing. It didn't mean anything to you, I
have no idea why you even have the nerve to show up."
"Just lis-“
“You kissed me. Don’t even deny it Louis, blame it on your drunk self as much
as you want but you kissed me and enjoyed it too. I enjoyed the kiss. For once
I felt happy, and you were the reason behind that exact feeling. Do you know
how it feels to melt under one simple word even though even though the person
furiously hates you? Because I do. I'm sick and tired of letting you get by
with things, and I can only stay quiet because my thoughts are irrelevant to
you, t-to everyone. I only ignore it and go along with it because there’s no
other choice. Each of your movements, words, acts, everything pulled me closer
to you and that one sentence in class shattered me completely...” I trail on,
and I could tell there’re tears in my eyes because my nose feels runny. I don’t
step closer to him; I stand in my exact position just watching him listen to
me.
“You’ve been bullying me since the moment we’ve met and I’ve never once in my
complained to you. I never complained about anything you caused me Louis but
you were so rude, so cruel, you didn’t care about my feelings at all. Not one
bit. I don’t understand how someone can be so heartless. You're nothing but a
jerk." I said with the exact same tone of voice, yet this time it’s slightly
weaker.
Louis finally speaks up, and I find myself allowing him.
"What else am I? Tell me. Everything, every last bit. I want to know what you
think of me."
“You never try to put yourself in other people’s shoes, always thinking of
yourself-“
Before I can go on I feel my chin lift up Louis lean in front of me, glancing
up at me before pressing a kiss to my lips- one that’s meaningful. His lips
part and kiss me again, again and again until he finally has a perfect rhythm
going.
"You're smug," I start out, as he runs his tongue over my now swollen lips. I
back up to the wall and place my hands on his hips, guiding them up his back as
I kiss him hard and well. "Y-You're ungrateful and a bastard-" I cut off,
continuing to let out short breaths every so often. "And you're stubborn. Y-You
make stupid comments and-" I release a shaky breath, "And most of all, you're
completely beautiful."
 
__________
 
I didn't know exactly what I was doing when this boy cut my words almost
immediately and got close until he crashed his lips to mine. I instantly woke
up from the depression from minutes ago that came over me and didn't hesitate
to pull back.
Sharp breaths huffing from my nose, my eyes stay closed as I kiss him hard and
passionately, backing up to the cold wall with him against me. I just want him
close to me, so I hold him, not sure if I forgave him or not. My chest moves up
and down and my eyes feel heavy from the sudden familiar pleasure of Louis, and
I absolutely need more. I'm not sure of what I'm doing, it feels fake almost
like one of those dreams of mine. I've never reacted this way to another human
being, never been so close in their personal space. It feels magical because
it's Louis who I'm doing this with so I hold him close enough to feel his hot
skin against my own.
All I can hear is mental and imaginary music in the back of my mind, combining
with Louis' panting and short breaths that seem to pressurize against my lips.
My fingertips guide themselves up his spine, sides and shoulders until I
reached the nape of his neck, running my fingers through his soft, tousled
hair.
Narrator's P.O.V
Harry wants more, he's sure that this is the best feeling he could ever receive
from another human being and this human being is Louis Tomlinson for goodness
sakes.
The way Louis is so into the kiss and seems like he wants it just as much as
Harry does, makes the curly boy go insane.
Harry leaves open mouth kisses to Louis lips, he makes sure he gets every spot.
But in the back of his mind, he also knows how cruel Louis can be so he wants
to stop this even though he also wants to get fucked up with the other boy. He
knows it's bad but he can't stop. He doesn't want to stop. But these thoughts
are quickly vanished away when pictures of Louis' reaction to Harry's essay
quickly appear in his head.
Harry doesn't seem to register that, no not all at because Louis' lips are
pressing more firmly against his own. The kiss is now chaste with no tongue,
but that doesn't make it any less heated. The way Louis' lips are nibbling
Harry's own is just....astonishing, and all the whilst, Louis is frozen in
place.
It only takes a moment...one moment, for Louis to snap.
They're moving too fucking slow.
Shoving forward, Louis thrusts his tongue into Harry mouth and grabs his face.
Head tilting and lips spreading, Harry brushes his tongue along the roof of
Louis' mouth, and fuck does he taste good. He tastes so. fucking. good and
Harry just can't. He can't - hold back.
Not like this.
But it's a surprise, a sure surprise to Louis when Harry pulls away. Both of
their faces are flushed and they are both panting, but there's only one
difference...
One distinct difference, and it's the look on Harry's face.
"L-Louis, s-stop." Harry stammers, his forearms pressing on Louis' chest and
Louis' hand lazily cupping his neck, the other moving up Harry's spine in one
very straight line.
Louis seems effervescent, the way he pants out while his hands roam up Harry's
chest, rubbing all of his sensitive spots, makes his entire body shake from
everything overwhelming him, from Louis' warmth and from the sudden happenings.
Finally, Louis pulls his lips away from Harry's jaw to lift his head, looking
up at Harry, his face sad but content at the same time.
"What're you trying to do?" Harry asks with a straight tone, faces still inches
apart.
"W-what do you mean?"
Harry glances down at him, almost furious. "What are you trying to do? What's
going to happen after this?"
Louis awaits before swallowing hard, his face dropping down to his hands. "I-
I don't know," he responds in the same tone but slightly weaker.
Harry wants to make sure Louis is aware of his actions, he doesn't want to
relive another moment of Louis telling him that everything they had just shared
is a 'mistake'.
"You're confusing me," Harry says straight again.
"I'm sorry."
"For what? For what Louis? For kissing me? Are you going to tell me that it was
a mistake again? Oh but you see you can't blame it on anything now, there's
nothing to blame. I mean you're not drunk are you?" Harry asks sarcastically,
eyeing the boy up and down as Louis looks at the boy like he's gone completely
maniac. "Louis you're confusing me!" Harry trails on, growing incensed by the
second.
Louis doesn't open his mouth to say anything, he's not sure of what to say as
well as how he hasn't been for the past week.
"Can you talk?" Harry raises his voice, not caring a single bit now about
someone hearing them.
The tone of Harry's voice and his choice of words make Louis' chest start to
tense, it makes him feel like it's a dejavu because last time he checked it was
him screaming at Harry, forcing him to talk.
"You don't understand," Louis says finally, voice weak. "Try putting yourself
in my goddamn shoes, I don't even know what I'm doing! Ever since that stupid
kiss I don't even know what I'm trying to do! You've put this stupid affect on
me, I can't fucking stop thinking about it! This is all your fault," Louis
points to him, his voice not so weak anymore.
"My fault? How do you consider it my fault if I fell for you, for your stupid
charming face and your stupid voice and your stupid self?! How does that make
it my fault? I fell for you, and never would I ever imagine me kissing you, or
you kissing me! You kissed me, can you believe that because I can't!"
A harsh laugh flows from Harry's mouth, but he says nothing more. Louis
considers what might be worse; getting yelled at? Or the person saying nothing
at all? But by that time, Harry is already shaking his head and backing away
from him.
"Shut up, stop fucking saying that! I'm not," Louis' voice breaks, "That's
just- no, I am not gay!"
Harry stares, wanting to slap the denial in Louis' words. "Okay tell me this,
what straight boy slams another onto a wall and k-kiss them? Hm? Tell me that.
What straight person does that? Louis, you might be confused about what you
'are' but you don't seem so straight from the outside. Go make up your damn
decision. You're just making yourself look sad."
"Fuck off," Louis slumps down to the ground on his bum, pulling his knees to
his chest, as he throws his head against the cold wall behind him. "You don't
understand how much I hate you!" Louis looks up at him, with cold eyes. "I will
never feel whatever," Louis throws his hands in the air, "you feel towards me.
Do you know how disgusting it makes me feel just the thought of me being
attracted to another guy?! It fucking gives me shivers," Louis points his arms
out, showing the goosebumps that seem to be travelling over his exposed skin.
He spoke very slow, each word making Harry want to cut his ears off to not to
hear his words then and there. He didn't know whether Louis is telling the
truth, but he heard it in his raw and loud voice that he meant each word.
No matter how much Harry imagined this would probably end up like this, he
hadn't actually imagined it would.
The muscles in Harry's jaw clench and unclench like he's trying not to say
something, but can't. Or he wants to say something, but he's holding himself
back. Louis wishes he wouldn't. He wishes Harry would just take this at face
value and leave. He doesn't want Harry's sadness, or his anger, or anything of
his.
Louis knows how much his words tore Harry apart, and can't help but feel
immense pain and guilt for it. He wants to apologize to him but keeps his mouth
shut, and waits for Harry to leave.
Harry feels a tear sting in the corner of his eyes, he exhales through his
nose, his fist finding the hem of his shirt, tugging on it. "Guess what Lou?" A
faint smile creeps on Harry's face as tears pile up in his big green eyes.
Louis doesn't dare to lift his head up to meet Harry's eyes, because he knows
Harry's having a breakdown and he also knows that if he ever does lift his head
up, he'd end up having his mouth sucking Harry's face again and he definitely
does not want that to happen.
"I'm sorry." Harry nods rapidly, a trail of tear gliding down his cheek. "I'm
sorry I've made you feel t-this way," Harry's voice cracks as he sniffs,
immediately wiping the wet tears off of his cheek with the back of his sleeve.
"It's all my fault, you're right." Harry gulps, sniffing one more time, eyes
focused on the square tiles on the floor. "It's completely all my fault," He
repeats again, leaving a confused Louis who finally drags his head up. "A-and
I'm going to l-leave you alone. So you can be happy again." Harry continues
rambling, as Louis' forehead wrinkles, his brows furrowing by what this boy in
front of him is trying to say. "I'm gunna leave you alone, so you can continue
pick up random chicks off'f the street." Harry's brows raise at the accuracy in
his words, his eyes still on the floor. "Because after all that is the reason
you're so damn wrecked right now." By now, Harry sounds like a mad maniac, his
words drowning along the tears welling down his eyes. "God dammit Louis, say
something!" Harry yells, frustrated by the lack of attention he's getting from
the other boy. He wraps his palm at the nape of his neck, occasionally pulling
the tips of his hair because somehow it always helped him calm down. Louis
still does not respond. Harry sighs, shuffling towards Louis on the floor and
getting on his knees.
"Louis, please respond to me. Louis! I love you, stop doing this to me! Just
give me an answer, tell me what you really want me to do. Tell me what you
really want from me and I'll give it to you Lou!" Harry pleads, rubbing his
hand behind Louis' back. "Please Lou," Harry repeats, his voice breaking along
his hopes.
"Harry leave," Louis mumbles, ignoring the treatment Harry is giving him.
Harry shakes his head, thinking Louis is just lying, afraid of expressing his
emotions. He continues drawing circular patterns on Louis' back but gets cut
off when Louis slaps his hand off of him, staring up with blazing, icy pair of
eyes.
"Go." Louis says. "J-just get out, get out of my life. I want nothing to do
with you, don't you understand?"
"B-but Louis, I love you." Harry blinks like a lovesick dog.
"Alright, want a gold star or something?" Louis mocks, fucking with Harry's
emotions in the worst ways.
"You're unbelievable!" Harry whispers, shaking his head at the culprit sitting
infront of him.
Louis sighs, not missing the roll from his eyes.
Harry's so tired of the way Louis is treating him, but not enough to let him
go. "Why are you-"
"Because!" Louis cuts him, growing sick by Harry's words. "I.am.not.gay! Get
that through your head!" Louis pokes Harry's temple roughly. "I'm sorry if I'm
hurting your feelings or whatever but I don't care. I like and will always like
girls. Not guys and especially not you!"
And that's all Louis had to say.
Harry shakes his head causing few strands of his tousled hair to cover his
brows as tears pile up in his eyes for the second time today. Not baring to
percieve the scenary infront of him anymore, he clenches his fists by his hips
and bolts out of the washroom.
 
>>>>>>
 
"Another one please," Harry mutters as he flops on the sofa, a silent burp
escaping his lips.
"You're disgusting," comes from behind where the kitchen is, causing Harry to
smirk.
Even when he feels like shit, Erin manages to make him feel good and that's
basically Harry's favourite thing about Erin.
He reaches the coffee table for the remote, then flicks through channels not
really searching for a particular show.
"These are Italian right?" Erin asks, eyeing Harry's mum's baked goods.
"Yeah, Tiramisu." Harry points at the dessert, looking back at the television
in front of him.
"Hmm, I like them." Erin beams, "next time if I get a chance to meet your mum I
might as well get the recipe too." Erin smiles proudly as she takes a seat next
to Harry.
This makes Harry erupts into a laughter. He tugs on his stomach as he throws
his head to the back of the couch, then glances at Erin. "Y-you're going to
cook?" He asks, his mouth stretched into an amused face.
"Yes. I will." Erin says in a straight tone. "For your information, I've cooked
a lot of stuff in the past." Erin glares, resting her back against the couch,
digging in for a piece of her dish.
Harry is not listening though. He's noticed a tiny scratch on the coffee table
in front of him and finds himself staring at it. He takes short, silent breaths
remembering the scene from the washroom.
...
"Harry...hello? Earth to Harry..." Erin waves her hand in front of Harry's face
only to nudge him from his thoughts.
"Sorry," He mumbles, swallowing hard down his dry throat.
His chest's tightening, everything hurt. His body, his heart, his eyes, his
throat. He silently gasps for air, a big lump in the middle of his esophagus
letting him not talk properly. His hands are shaking, cluthing on the side of
his thighs. His breathing rate loosing its rhythm, causing Erin to panic.
"H-Harry, relax, Harry!" Erin gets down on her knees, and shuffles towards
Harry, pulling his hand into hers.
"T-take a deep breath, Harry. Breathe," her voice cracks, as she cups his face,
feeling his body shake, scared as hell.
Harry pants, the lump in the middle of his esophagus still not letting him
speak. He sobs, it's like the tears just pour down his face by itself. He holds
Erin's hands tight, his lips already parted as he keeps inhaling the needed air
into his mouth.
Erin feels terrible, she wants to do something for this lovesick boy, she wants
him to get better. It pains to watch him suffer like this. The hate she has in
Louis grows more. She despises him for doing this to Harry. She knows he's
fragile, and it makes her sick whenever people take that as an advantage to
ache his delicate heart.
She pulls him to her chest, and wraps her one arm around his shaky back and the
other across the neck.
"Okay, okay," She whispers, shutting her eyes as Harry does the same, trying to
even out his breathing. "You're gunna get better, do you hear me? You'll be
fine." Erin motivates against Harry's hair.
Harry's sobs are no longer silent, he's not even at his breaking point. He's
spent, so loose, so weak. Loud cries are escaping his lips as his head shakes
on Erin's shoulder. Erin could feel the tears wetting her shoulder. She just
wishes he could help this boy and just when she does that a spectacular idea
flows in her mind although she's not yet convinced it'd work.
Slowly releasing her arms away from Harry's back, she sees Harry's face
slouched down, eyes puffed and sore.
"Here," She says in her kindest tone and moves behind Harry to adgust the
pillow on to couch only to gently rest Harry's head on it.
Grabbing the a white, fluffy blanket in the corner of the couch, she spreads it
out and tucks Harry into it.
Harry's eyes are slightly squinted, tears drying on his cheeks. The teen looks
wrecked.
Erin walks into the kitchen to get a glass of cold water and runs back to
Harry. Wrapping her arm behind his neck, she gently lifts him up halway.
Pulling Harry's face into the glass, she watches as Harry's lips part around
the glass and take little lazy sips. His weakness would soon cause sickness and
Erin knows she has to put a stop to it.
Gently resting his head back on the puffy pillow, she mostirizes her lips and
sighs at the situation infront of her.
"Are you okay?" She caresses Harry's hair and gently strokes it off of his
forehead.
Harry lets out silent breaths through his parted lips, and stares infront of
him barely blinking.
"Wanna get some sleep?" She tries again, pulling her lips between her teeth.
She sighs, running a hand through her long, dark hair and takes a seat across
Harry on an arm chair.
Not taking her eyes off of him, she nibbles on her bottom lip wishing she had
magic powers so she could cast a spell and see this boy infront of her smiling
and cheery again.
Her eye lids become heavy causing them to slowly drop. She notices herself
dozing off so she quickly picks her head up again, looking at Harry who still
has his eyes open, gazing in front of him.
Erin places her chin in her palm, her tired eyes betraying her again and soon
falling into a slumber.
Shuffling in her seat that's by now, the most uncomfortable thing ever, she
rubs her neck feeling it numb. Opening her eyes, her brows narrow at where she
is but seeing Harry tucked into a blanket, his eyes shut and lips parted soon
gets her relaxed.
Taking her seat off of the armchair, she quietly walks over to Harry and fixes
the blanket, tucking him better now. She pulls her hands back to herself, and
crosses her arms.
Erin really does wish Harry wasn't into boys sometimes, because to her really,
Harry's perfect. He's got the perfect soft hair she'd never want to take her
hands away from, the perfect long legs that go up for miles, those perfect full
lips-she's grateful for getting a taste of from the previous party, the soft
milky skin, and the perfect personality, and the humour, and yeah, Harry's just
the perfect boyfriend.
Boyfriend...
BOYfriend...
A mischevious smirk curves on Erin's lips, as she mentally pats herself on the
back for coming up with the best idea earlier that not only is going to benefit
her dearest friend Harry, but also herself.
Snatching her gigantic purse from the coffee table, she takes a pen and her
pocket-sized notebook out. She uncaps her pen with her teeth and starts to
write;
 
Mum called. Dad and her are back and want to meet me for a meal. So sorry babe,
I'll come back though just call me. Hope you're feeling better, love you xx
PS; you're insanely cute when you're sleeping. Louis has no idea what he's
missing ;)
-Erin x
 
Capping her pen back, she rips the piece of paper out of the notebook and
places it on the coffee table in a standing position, next to Harry's head.
"Oh! Almost forgot," She mutters, and digs into the front pocket for her phone.
Finding the name in her endless contact list, she places the phone against her
ear as the other is busying with stroking Harry's fringe to the back, feeling
light sweat at the tip of her fingers.
"Hey, I need to talk to you." She says quietly as the person greets through the
line, her hand still gently massaging Harry's warm scalp.
"Don't ask, just meet me at the coffee shop across from school in ten." Hanging
up the phone, she holds it tight in her hand and leans down to leave a soft
peck Harry's temple.
At last, she exits the house and drives to the coffee shop she is to meet with
a friend.
 
>>>>
 
The boy taps on his foot, his thighs nearly about to go numb for shaking
excessively.
Of course he knows why Erin called him, urging to meet him so abrubtly. He's
not stupid, he may be rude, harsh, even selfish at times but never stupid.
He isn't afraid of Erin, but something about the tone of her voice and the
incident from this very day, makes him cramped and he actually wants to leave
this shop but the bell from the doors ding, indicating him that someone had
entered.
He shuts his eyes, and slouches back into his seat knowing it's obviously Erin
since not a lot of people actually hang in here other than studying purposes
but that's really not what Louis should be thinking about since the well-known
pair of thin, long legs are travelling around and stopping infront of him,
across the wooden table.
He puts on his signature 'Louis Tomlinson' smirk and lifts his head up to meet
with Erin's round, dark eyes.
Erin's eyes lower down from the boys' eyes and stop on his exposed neck and
hell, did she want to wrap her hands around them and choke the ego out of him.
But, she clears her throat casually and takes her seat like the kind, loving
girl she is.
"Hi, Louis." She throws a genuine smile, and crosses her arms over on the
table.
"Hi, Erin." Louis mimics, the smirk never fading away.
Erin takes a breath, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. It's hard to believe
how comfortable this boy is when Harry's just the complete opposite.
"So are we going to have like an old school date at a coffee shop or do I just
take you home?" Louis raises a brow, cockily.
Erin squints, confused for a second by what this boy was meaning.
"Excuse me?"
Louis snorts, "you're excused love."
Erin's mouth falls down. Yeah, Louis is a pain in the ass.
A silent chuckle flows from Louis' mouth as he looks away through the glass
window then back at Erin.
"What?" Erin does a shake of her head, confused and definitely off topic.
Louis smiles, proud of his way of words. "I'm saying, you've got great legs.
What time do they open?"
A silent gasp appears from Erin as her grip on the table tightenes.
"What the fuck? We're not having sex."
Louis smirks, leaning closer to Erin on the table.
"Exactly," He nods, his smirk still plastered. "Why aren't we?"
Erin glares at him, clenching her teeth together and leaning back to her seat,
folding her arms.
"You're unbelievable."
"Yeah, and you blabber too much but you don't see me complaining." He shrugs a
shoulder.
"Because this isn't why I called you here for." Erin claims, raising her voice
a bit at the realization of the actual reason why she even came here in the
first place.
"K, what do you want then?" Louis seems bored.
"I want you to make up your mind." Erin begins.
"I have made up my mind babe. Parents are out of the city," Louis trails on,
"how about we both take this to the next level and-"
"Stop kissing Harry!" Erin yells, freezing Louis from his actions.
Louis's brows knit together, his smirk falling downward. "How do you know abou-
"
"Just stop," Erin lightly slams the table, protectively. "Stop leading him on
then screwing up with his emotions!"
"You don't kn-"
"No, you listen. That boy loves you! And-"
"I don't care." Louis looks away, folding his arms and shrugging all too
casually.
"You sure did when you slammed your mouth on to his. You sure did when you held
him tight, wanting to take things further. Don't try to tell me you don't care
right now because I know you do. Louis you're afraid. You're-"
"I'm not afraid of anything. 'S not my fault if I don't feel the same way." He
argues, being his stubborn self.
"Are you sure?" Erin's brows are raised, "Then why do you kiss him?"
Louis gulps, not breaking the eye contact. He wants to answer the question. He
wants to back himself up, unfortunately nothing comes out.
"Exactly," Erin leans back into her seat, crossing her arms over. "You like him
back." She states.
"I don't!" Louis whines on, so stubborn with his words.
"To think you were a brave person." Erin attempts to push Louis' buttons.
He rolls his eyes, his grip on each of his biceps tightening.
"Look," Erin pulls herself back towards Louis. "I understand what you're going
through. I really do." She nods, " I know it's hard but you gotta take your
chances. You can't deny and force yourself into believing things." She shakes
her head, "Harry isn't fine. He didn't tell me anything that happened in the
washroom, but you could just see it in his eyes. Louis, he said he wants to
give up. Give up on life!" Erin whispers, her face inches apart from Louis'.
Erin isn't sure if Louis is coming along yet, but the faint sorrow in his eyes
says enough.
"I don't want him to. I told him you weren't worth it." Erin speaks truthfully.
"But you know what he said? That you were worth everything he's ever done, and
everything he'd ever do. The boy wants a future with you. He thinks maybe, just
maybe one day you'd come along and feel the same way and that night when you
kissed him, he couldn't wish for anything else. He had hopes, Louis. Hopes. Now
why do you keep pushing him away? Is it because you hate him?" Erin asks, each
word really slow, wanting them to register in Louis' mind.
He thinks about the question for a second, tired to even come up with another
excuse or a lie. "No." He shakes his head, being honest for probably the first
time around this week.
"Then? What's the problem?" She asks in the same quiet tone, then reaches for
Louis' freezing cold hand, caressing it with her warm ones. "It won't hurt to
be honest Louis. You can trust me." She carefully nods her head, Louis' eyes
boring into her own.
Louis looks mesmerized. Seeming as if he has no choice but to listen to Erin
and pour his heart out.
"Talk to me, say whatever you want. I promise I won't judge you, just be
honest."
Louis shuts his eyes, releasing a silent breath then lifts the pairs back open.
His eyes fall down onto the table, tongue sticking out only to moisturize his
lips. "The thing is, I don't know. I don't know if...if I'm in the right path
or the wrong one. Harry's...a wonderful person. He made me feel these things
none has ever done to me. I know it's only been two weeks, but Erin, I'm
telling you I've never felt this way before... Ever since that kiss, these
weird thoughts about him and I started going through my head and then I felt
scared...of people judging me...so I just denied. I denied my feelings. It was
going alright, I started seeing random girls to get my mind off of him but then
on Monday, when I saw him, everything stopped and I just wanted him. I couldn't
even believe my self, the words I was saying in my head...I don't know if I
like it or hate it, but it makes me want more and then I regret it. I don't
know why but..." Louis sucks in a deep breath, and finally lifts his gaze on
the table. "I think I like him."
And that's all Erin needed to hear before stretching her face into a wide smile
and pull Louis into an embrace.
Louis feels clueless at the sudden contaction, but without further questioning
he wraps his arms around her thin figure.
"E-Erin, you're squishing me." Louis groans on Erin's hair recieveing a chuckle
from Erin's mouth.
"Do you realize how happy you just made me?" Erin asks, shaking Louis'
shoulders.
"Erin, will you let go of me?" Louis asks, the tone of his voice and choice of
words reminding Erin this particular person.
She nods before straightening Louis' black, loose tank top and grey beanie.
"Just," She mutters, taking a step back to get a better view of Louis.
Louis groans, throwing his head back, "Jesus, Erin what're you doing?"
With a tap on Louis' beanie, "K, you're good to go."
"Go? Go where?" Louis dodges back, brows pulled together.
"You're going to Harry's."
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are."
"Why am I going to Harry's?"
"You both have some things to figure out, am I correct?"
"I regret the second I came here."
"No you don't."
"Yeah, I don't."
"You like him."
"I do not."
"You said it yourself."
"Yeah, I may have lied."
"Shut up, the keys are under the mat. Oh and Louis...if you hurt him again,
consider your self castrated."
 
________
 
 
It still amazes him. That he could hate someone so much yet still love with all
his heart. He doesn't know what's worse; falling in love with the wrong person
or hating the right one. He's ashamed someone could be that important and
without them he feels like nothing. Nobody will understand how much that means.
It brings joy and bliss to his heart that he exists. His presence warms up his
lungs, and sings along, his eyes deep like the sea that Harry wants the whole
world to know, hold the happiness only to him.
Even though it's all true, he resembles like trembling rain because it's fallen
hard and so has he.
Harry looks up to see a plain, white, ceiling stare back at him. His sleepy
legs stuck together and thumbs lazily playing with each other under the warm
blanket as he listens to silence. He stays quiet, weakly nibbling on the
insides of his warm cheeks, receiving flashbacks in his mind. He refuses to
waste even another second to think about it, and continues to keep his gaze on
the ceiling, breathing out even breaths.
Three, five, ten, fifteen minutes pass and he turns his head to the side almost
feeling it sore upon the nape of his neck. A small piece of paper in a sitting
position stays across from him, almost mocking him with such tiny words.
He makes an attempt to reach for it and successfully snatches the paper between
two fingers and pulls it in front of his face.
His eyebrow muscles slouching down, he eyes the short note before moving it
away from his face and squishing it in his hand before throwing it back on the
coffee table like a trash.
Laziness creeping upon his body, he feels though it's impossible to even move
another limb. The couch he's known to be the least comfortable thing in his
house, henceforth is suddenly the most comfortable thing ever.
Harry turns his head back in front of him, his mind worrying the least about
his mother and sister who've been gone for quiet long now. He throws a hand
behind his head and lets it rest there for his own comfort.
Knowing sooner or later, his mind would obviously betray him and end up
retrieving the negative thoughts again. Plus, who is he to hide from? His own
conscious?
Giving it in, Harry turns over on his side and pulls the blanket just above his
ear.
Shuffling in his position until he pleases himself with comfort, he gulps down
in his dry throat before randomly spotting the beige coloured rug on the floor
and keeping his contact at it. His eyes squint as he wonders to himself.
He wonders, before of all the things, if he's being a little too dramatic.
Because, all of this drama he has gotten himself to be a part of or actually
play the main character in, is definitely not a usual in Harry's little life.
Harry shrugs away that question and continues wondering. He wonders if this is
his fault. If he never had fallen for the caramel haired boy and his stupid
face, maybe-obviously none of this would've happened and Harry would've
continued expertly being the school's loser he was and still is definitely as
so Harry thinks.
Harry wonders a lot of things. Louis being the cause of each and every single
one of them.
Not really acknowledging it, Harry grows sick from tiring his brain with the
same darn questions and thoughts and Louis. But Harry wouldn't agree to that
because he...well...he just would never go tired of Louis.
A careful click echoes the halls, making Harry shake just a bit before ducking
his head into the blanket. He gulps, and tries to stop the shaking on his hand
that's holding the blanket because he really doesn't want to ruin his little
pretend sleep in front of Erin, who Harry predicts has now returned.
The screeching and the light slam of the door only meaning someone has entered
inside. Harry keeps the blanket over his head as he feels air being swooped to
the sides indicating movements being swept across. Foot steps tapping against
the rug and coming closer and closer making Harry stiffen in his position. The
foot steps decrease, then comes a gentle cupped hand resting just above the
exposed space on his head. The blanket covering below his mid forehead, Harry
feels finger tips gently dig through his hair then massage his scalp
soothingly. It feels relaxing, it should feel relaxing but unfortunately
Harry's tensed and can't stop wishing for the tug on his hair to stop. As if
the person who he guesses most likely to be Erin, reads his mind, and slowly
sticks their hand out of his hair and walk away before a running hand through
his front roots.
Harry hears a flopping on what he thinks as a couch, proving the person had
taken their seat in the same room.
There's light tapping, and sounds of a jacket being discarded off a body. After
calming his heart rate, and swallowing once more, he debates between doing what
he is now; pretending to be asleep or pulling the blanket down from his face to
have a normal conversation with Erin, asking how the family dinner was and
whatnot. But, Harry sticks to the pretend sleep for now.
But then he finds himself complaining about the warm air underneath the blanket
and Erin just sitting there like a rock, not making an attempt to 'wake' Harry
up because hell, it's frustrating him.
Harry takes in the warm air between gritted teeth, then licks his full, dry
lips.
"Sometimes, I get this this feeling in the pity of my stomach that I mean
something to him...and as if I actually have a chance but...then I think again,
I remember how many girls are out there and how many of them he could actually
be with...And that's when I realise, no matter what I do...how hard I try, I'm
never going to be more than a loser to him... I'm absolutely nothing t' him."
Louis blinks, staring at Harry from across the couch. His legs have apparently
lost all ability to cooperate with the blaring sirens going off in hid head and
he still doesn't know what to say, because Harry is definitely raising his
voice now, and Louis can't figure out whether he should speak up and apologize
to shut him up or yell, too, or even saying anything, since leaving is
apparently not an option at the moment.
Harry mentally shakes his head, thinking Erin would have something to say but
when nothing comes out of the other person, he continues.
"It doesn't hurt me to think that...that I'm nothing to him. I probably am
something to him...like...like a complete utter gay piece of-" Harry pauses,
"what hurts me is how I've been wasting my whole darn life to someone so cruel
and impossible and stuck up and bitter and selfish and..." He stumbles over the
last few words and swallows hard, voice already a little strained from speaking
at the level he has been, and thinks he would've probably just tried to reach
his arms out to take the words back as they left his mouth if his hands weren't
still gripped so tightly between his curled up knees.
Louis is shaking his head a little like he's about to try and tell Harry he's
wrong, but he wont let himself do that, because the words are still coming out
of Harry, and he thinks he's more mad at himself now than he is at Harry for
making him say them.
"But...I've made my decision." Harry mentally nods to himself, "from now on, I
can promise you I will never bring up his name ever again to you or my family
or anyone else. I won't even acknowledge him at school. I'll even transfer
classes, I will not let myself down so easily this time. Erin,-"
And Louis isn't really listening now. All he can think about is; he made this
innocent boy feel like utter shit and Louis is probably the biggest culprit in
the history of culprits. There's shaking out of the boy's voice coming from
across him, and Louis listens again, fearing what he's going to witness next.
"-and he'll never feel the same way," But I do, thinks Louis in his mind, "so
where's the point in me continuing this stupid love game? I'm so tired Erin. I
don't even think I have energy left in me anymore...He took it all away...He
gave me nothing back. He just stole everything from me. He's the most selfish
person I've ever known."
And yeah, words cut like knives but Louis can't really complain knowing he
deserves each and every one of them.
"I know I will always love him," This smooths Louis down a bit, until, "but the
one thing I'll never do is forgive him."
Louis bites hard on the inside of his cheek when he feels an ache in his
throat. He stares down at his hands gripping the insides of his thighs, before
very slowly pulling his back from the armchair and getting up on his feet.
Harry has stopped confessing about the new routine's in his life, and Louis is
glad he has because he's not really a fond in listening to another one of
Harry's bitter words.
Staring at the boy's curled up figure under the blanket, Louis turns on his
feet and makes his way to the door. He stops with his hand on the doorknob and
turns half around, looking back at the vulnerable boy on the couch who has just
poured out his heart to him. Opening his mouth, Louis lets out a heavy breath,
not saying anything and opens the door, walks out and shuts it behind him.
Hearing the door slam rather very lightly, Harry feels just the least sure
about what just happened. Tearing the blanket off of his face, he pulls his
body up in a sitting position, and looks around his surroundings.
Where the hell did Erin go, Harry wonders but slouches back down on the couch
not really appreciating another attempt of worry in his mind. Harry's done with
worrying. He's done with thinking too hard. He's done with falling in love.
Harry's done with humans.
Not this one human though, Harry would never give up on this human.
Throwing the blanket off of him, he steps on the cold rug on his bare foot and
lazily walks up the stairs, into his room.
Looking around the room without yet touching anything, Harry spots his phone
laying on his laptop desk. Walking towards, he grabs it, not missing his
reflection from the mirror and honestly, Harry wishes he hadn't done that
because looking like a homeless boy who hasn't showered nor eaten for weeks
isn't something he quiet fancies. Shuddering at his appearance, he types an
appreciation text to Erin for listening to him and why he had left so early.
Receiving an apology and an incredible excuse of Erin's, Harry flops on his bed
this time, not really caring about his appearance or situation anymore.
Considering it's already past eight, Harry agrees to an another slumber and
falls into a sudden sleep of parted lips and light snores.
 
>>>>>
 
"Wow, I can now proudly say that you're the heaviest sleeper in the house.
Jesus Christ, Harry get your lazy arse up already!" The female voice speaks too
loud for Harry's morning mood.
"Hmmn," Harry whines, the side of his face pressing against his pillow causing
his words to come out muffled.
Gemma shakes Harry's hips a little more, knowing it'd only annoy him more.
"Gemma...get out..." Harry mutters against his pillow, then lifts up the covers
over his head.
"Nope, there are freshly cooked pancakes waiting for you downstairs made just
by me and I'm not going to let them go to waste. So get up. Get up, get up, get
up." She sing songs, nudging Harry's shoulders this time.
"You do realise you're two hours late right? It's quarter past ten and-"
Throwing the covers off of his head, Harry's eyes widen. "TWO HOURS?" His soul
awakens and so does his body.
"You're awake." Gemma smiles proudly down at Harry who's now a sitting
position, staring at her with horrific eyes. "And yes. Two hours."
"Jesus, Gemma! Why didn't you say so then? Instead of bragging about your
stupid pancakes you could've just told me I was late!" Harry's now doing the
buttons of his white button up uniform who he carelessly threw on top of his
black worn teeshirt. Knowing the dark teeshirt is obviously going to show
through his thin, white uniform, Harry just continues doing the buttons. He's
two hours late for school, should he really worry about his shirt being shown
through his see through shirt? No, not really.
Gemma glares annoyed at Harry's rude comment about her pancakes. "Well excuse
me if I wanted to eat a darn breakfast with my one and only brother." She exits
the room with a 'hmph' and stomps her way down stairs to the kitchen.
Rolling his eyes, Harry strips down his black sweatpants, exchanging them with
his school's black trousers whom are just a little too tight for but Harry's
never really complained and isn't going to now either.
Getting fully dressed into his uniform, Harry stumbles his way downstairs as
his hands are playing with his tie.
Turning to the left and into the kitchen, Harry notices Gemma dig her fork into
the plate of orange pancakes, a little too bitterly.
Harry knows he's hurt her, and knowing Gemma, making her smile and getting her
heart back isn't the hardest thing ever.
Pulling his best enthusiastic smile, he clears his throat and enters the quiet
kitchen, receiving a cold eye from his sister.
"Aw come on, Gems. You're not really upset are you?" Asks Harry as he walks
around Gemma's chair, stopping behind and gripping on the top edges.
Gemma shrugs, as she digs her fork in her stacked pancakes with colourful
fruits scattered on them.
Harry's lip curves into an amused grin as he leans to the curve of Gemma's
neck, placing a light kiss to her cheek.
"'m sorry," He smiles as he mutters to the skin of her cheek.
"You're a smug," His sister rolls her eyes as she pushes him away by his chest,
not missing the genuine smile on her face.
Giggling softly, Harry walks around the wooden table and takes his own seat
across from her to dig in this morning dish of his sister's.
Wiggling her eyebrows, Gemma smiles wide. "Did ya notice something?"
Harry looks down to his plate, and hums whilst playing with his food, "Um, the
extra syrup wasn't that necessary but thanks." He looks up to meet his sisters
gaze, smiling.
Rolling her eyes again, "no you dingy. I died my hair!" She frowns at Harry's
clueless face which quickly disappears into a playful smirk.
"'fcourse I noticed Gems, it looks quite dishy. I like it." He nods in between
cheeky smiles.
Obviously this flutters Gemma's heart causing her to get happily get up from
her seat to fill Harry's plate with extra pancakes.
Waving his hand in the air, Harry raises his brows and quickly gets up.
"Save'm for later, I really gotta go." He swallows the last bits of his orange
juice then places the tall glass on the table.
Grabbing his book bag by the the corner entrance of the kitchen, he waves with
two fingers from his shoulder, exchanging see you later's with Gemma and making
his way to the door.
Tying the laces of his white converse, he rubs his hands on his pants,
straightening them from non existing wrinkles.
Opening the door, he throws his bag over his shoulder and shuts the door
behind.
Not stepping out of his porch just yet, he fetches his hand into his deep left
pocket and pulls out his phone.
Sending a careless 'morning, be there in 10' text to Erin, he shuts his phone
off and digs it back into his pocket.
Skipping his way out, Harry struggles with stopping the annoying feeling of
worry grow in his stomach.
Sliding his hands into his pants pockets, Harry keeps his head high and steps
on the sidewalk, continuing his way to school.
 
>>>>>
Walking forward to cross the road, he looks left then right then left again,
making his way to the school gates. His hand clutching to his folder to hold it
tightly against his hip and his bag around his shoulder swinging as he walks
closer to the entrance of the school yard.
Stepping into the yard, Harry swallows nervously when his eyes fall upon the
small group of boys that are stood huddled fairly close in the corner. He
quickly averts his eyes, not wanting to arise any of the boys, or wanting any
of them to see him.
The boys are two years above him, and each of them almost as tall as Harry.
Some people from Harry's year actually idolise the three boys, and Harry wishes
he knew why.
Avoiding them, he opens the school's entrance doors and steps inside.
"Maybe it's the way he walks..." Comes from behind him as he walks the opposite
direction.
"I don't think so. He pretty much walks like a model, if...you didn't notice."
Obviously it's between classes and obviously these barbie wannabes are
gossiping about god knows what.
"Of course I noticed Em, don't be stupid! If he never was gay, you know I
wouldn't even miss a chance to get it with him."
Harry stops dead on his tracks. His eyes glazing wide, so stretched out that it
might ache in a second.
Harry isn't sure if he heard it right. He probably did but for now he just
wishes he didn't.
Very slowly, turning around his heels, Harry's very fragile about why the halls
are gone pure silent now.
Finally having his body fully turned around, his jaw clenches and unclenches as
he swallows down basically nothing because there's literally nothing. His
throat has gone dry and so has his limbs.
The two girls sitting against the lockers forward of Harry are now passing
killer looks to him for basically turning around and looking at them. Yep this
is pretty much what orbits around his life.
It's frustrating really, because what do you know, next thing's a boy running
up to him, clenching his collar, pulling him off of his feet demanding him to
explain why he's breathing. Then, Harry would answer with one of his clear
smart-arse responds like "maybe because I'm human" and the boy would already be
fisting his jaw, eyebrow, chin, cheekbones, tummy, and you get the point.
Unfortunately the two girls are still sending him the sting eyes, eyeing him
head to toe, judging him way too much for Harry's own safety.
"Can we like help you?" The short dark haired one says in an abhorred tone,
lifting the corner of her lips into a disgusted posture.
Harry opens his mouth, only to breath in some air then close it back. Just as
he's about to let an answer that would most likely end up humiliating him, a
female voice echoes from behind making Harry quickly turn to the direction.
"Mr. Styles!"
Standing by the door, Mrs. Urban's knuckles are pressed against her hips and
the look she's caring on her face isn't pleasing.
Harry turns back to the girls, noticing they both look dumbstruck just staring
at him. Lifting up a grin, he shakes his head playfully and turns back around
to his teacher.
"Yeah Miss?" He blurts as he jaunts towards her.
"Come on, move those long pairs, I'm about to introduce the new project." She
waves him over, with such enthusiasm that Harry wouldn't even be considered
shocked if he hears a squeal come out of the 30 year old teacher's mouth.
Taking quick steps now, he points to his locker which happens to be right
beside the classroom door, and gestures with his hands that he's going to it
first.
The teacher mutters an 'okay' through a toothy grin and turns around, entering
the class again with faint yelling at the class's increased level of chatter.
Harry's brows quirk to the roof as he smiles to himself at Mrs. Urban's
behaviour. Twisting his lock, meeting the three digits, he pulls his lock out
and lifts his foot in midair only to kick the locker open.
Hooking his book bag over one of the shitty school hooks, he slides a text and
a notebook out from the top shelf. Changing his mind for not a particular
reason, he unhooks his book bag with his index finger before hanging it on his
right shoulder. Holding the books by his hip, he shuts his locker close with
his foot again. Licking his lips with a bite to it, he takes his hand into his
hair, throwing his wild quiff to the back remembering Erin's little advice on
how wild quiff is always charming. Harry feels ashamed really, that he listens
to a girl for fashion tips but acknowledging that Erin's the only person that's
willing to stay by his side, and listen to him blabber about his love for
little Mr. too-cool-to-be-into-boys and just decides to accept what he's got.
And wow. He isn't even inside the class and he's already thinking about him.
Suddenly, he's worrying if this plan of his trying to live a life without Louis
Tomlinson, is going to accomplish. No actually, he's most worried how the hell
he's going to ignore this cruel, heartless, jerk with a face of the gods whilst
he's sat three desks away from his own.
Harry sucks in school's hallway air through an open mouth and huffs it back
out. He's done presentations with this boy, he's locked lips with him twice,
sat on his bed even for project purposes; Harry still considers its better than
sex, and why in hell is he so nervous to step inside this class now?
Crossing his heart, Harry looks up to the ceiling, muttering 'help me' to
whatever Gods up there before nodding and turning around to eventually step
inside of the class.
As he takes a giant step inside, his head down at his shoes, he notices the
volume of the class has just decreased and Harry wishes he could reverse time
and never to make this mistake of entering his own class ever again.
"Take your seat, Harry. I haven't introduced the project yet." Mrs. Urban
smiles as she sits up from her seat, pulling down her mini pencil skirt.
Harry tries so hard not to look to the corner, he tries so hard not to look
like a fool. Nodding at Mrs. Urban he smiles for what feels like a millilitre
second and takes another step but Mrs. Urban speaks up making him stop his
actions and freeze in the middle of the class.
Harry wants to groan.
"Speaking of introducing..." She looks towards Harry's seat section, followed
by Harry who happens to notice an unfamiliar boy sat in the seat next to him.
Also noticing Erin's knowing look and self just behind his empty seat, he
wonders what's all this but thankfully Mrs. Urban speaks up again.
"That's Michael. A new student here at Beacon High." She nods at Michael who
looks back but at Harry with the cheekiest grin Harry could ever receive.
Harry whispers a soft 'kay' and walks towards his seat, keeping full eye
contact with Erin whilst the boy next to his seat is keeping his own on Harry.
Once he makes it to his seat, he reminds himself to not stare at the corner.
Repeating it to himself in his mind, he lifts his book bag off of his shoulder
with his thumb and rests it beside his desk.
As he takes his seat, he places his books on his desk, then sits back against
his seat, crossing his arms over, totally oblivious of the boy next to him
nearly gauging at Harry's face.
Harry keeps his arms crossed over, not remembering the being of this new kid,
and just keeping his gaze on his teacher's movements. Although he isn't really
listening nor remembering they were to do a brand new project. Unfortunately,
the two girls who he left behind at the end of the hallway has Harry mesmerised
and absolutely lost.
If they weren't talking about me, then who were they talking about, Harry digs
in his brain.
Who else could be gay, or who would even dare to come out when this school is
filled with tons of homophobic creatures... Harry leans on his desk, placing
his elbow and holding his chin in his palm.
He could hear the faint voice of Mrs. Urban, knowing what she's saying could
probably be really important but he considers finding out who the second gay
human inside this school is more important than this assignment or project, he
is completely unaware of.
He once again takes in needed air through his mouth and lifts his head to meet
his teacher's actions again. She's currently in her seat, both of her elbow
resting on the table, fingers crossed, mouth moving in thousands of ways.
Finally looking to his left, towards the new kid, he notices how close they are
seated so he gives in a smile that turns out as nothing but an uneasy, awkward
one as the boy turns his own eyes from Mrs. Urban and at Harry.
Sitting back against his seat, Harry rests his hands on his lap and decides to
listen to his teacher until he's startled with the buzzing inside the pocket of
his pants.
Harry swallows, looking through the corner of his eyes, hoping no one had
noticed or would notice anything once he takes his phone out.
Realising everyone is in their own world of bullshit and stupidity he slowly
digs his hand inside his pocket and slides the phone out.
Gently lowering his eyes on his lap, he presses on the home button to turn the
phone on. Seeing he's received a text message from Erin, he slides his thumb
over the text and brings his other hand to his phone to respond.
The text is reading, "Hi x" with a smiling emoticon and Harry would roll his
eyes at that but knowing it would only make things obvious he sticks to cooly
responding back.
 
To; Erin
Weirdo.
 
Considering he would get a respond less than ten seconds, he holds his phone
between his hands.
As there's another buzz, Harry quickly checks the phone, eyeing the text.
 
From; Erin
This weirdo is about to give you the information of your life.
 
To; Erin
I thought we talked about clarity.
 
From: Erin
Yeah, considering how it's always me giving you information you're on your own
this time buddy. x
 
To; Erin
You're not being a very good friend right now.
 
From; Erin
Sorry. You'll find out soon though, promise. xx
 
Glaring at the text, he looks up to his teacher for a double check then
continues to type again, noticing she's still blabbering.
As he types again, his teacher's voice increases making him stop his thumbs
from tapping and quickly put his phone away back in to his pocket. Casually
crossing his arms over, nodding to his teacher's words, he pretends to
understand what she's meaning when actually he's lost as a puppy.
Clapping her hands, Mrs. Urban smiles wide, "Good luck!"
Good luck? Good.Luck? Good luck-what, Harry panics.
"This one is only 15% of the term mark. It's worth a lot if you ask me, just
work hard and earn those points and I'll let you pass the course." She smacks
her lips for no utter reason and nods. "Instruction sheets are stacked here,"
She points to the corner of her desk, "you can start whenever you'd like but
like I always say, I suggest you start your brainstorming and with your partner
today just to get things off of your shoulder."
Great, another partner project, Harry glares.
"And no, Hillary. Partners are a choice of yours this time. Just don't get too
distracted otherwise I'm going to have to pick someone for you." She quirks her
brows up, taking her seat, going back to her own business.
Noticing people get up from their seats to get the instruction sheets, and some
chat with their partners, Harry takes this as an opportunity to turn around
from his seat to interrogate Erin.
Gripping at the top back of his chair, he spins around.
"Hello." Erin greets right behind him.
Harry forces a smile and continues to his interrogation. "You have to give me a
clue."
Erin sighs.
"Is it about..." Louis, Harry means.
Erin shakes her head, smiling.
"Is it about...you?"
"Nope."
"Is it me?"
"Nope."
"Is it-just tell me Erin! You're being such a-"
"Don't you dare say the word!" She glares, pointing at him childishly.
Harry mouths a 'wow', slowly shaking his head. "You're unbelievable."
Erin scoffs, smirking, "You say that all the time. I reckoned you'd be used to
it by now."
Harry shrugs, looking away then back at Erin's eyes. "I don't know, you keep
coming with these new surprises and It's just hard to predict what's next."
Erin smirks again, grabbing Harry's arm and playing with the hem of his
sleeves.
"I know, but-"
"Erin. Wanna start now?" A black, curly haired girl taps on Erin's shoulder
making her look up, startled.
"Uhh," Erin stammers, dropping her gaze from this petite little girl, onto
Harry. "Yes." She lifts her head back up to the girl and stands up from her
seat.
Offuckingcourse Erin had already chosen her partner and offuckingcourse Harry's
left alone.
Nibbling on his bottom lip, he realises he's still sat turned around so he
spins back to his front, resting his palms on two of each side of his desk.
Seeing from his left corner eye, the new kid's smirking at what his eyes are
focused on his phone that's practically in the air begging for Mrs. Urban to
take it away but darn this kid's luck because Mrs. U isn't even looking his
direction.
Also realising he's not even sure what this assignment is about in the first
place, Harry huffs and lazily gets up from his seat to get the instruction
sheet.
As he stands up, his eyes quickly reach to meet a pair of dark, sparkling blue,
pair of orbs and Harry's suddenly forgotten how to breath for a moment.
"Um," Louis swallows, finding a spot on Harry, most likely his collar button,
and stares at it.
Harry's jaw stiffs, as he looks past the tip of Louis' shoulders. No way is he
going to talk back to him.
Taking a step to pass by Louis' side, Harry's stopped by a placement on his
stomach from Louis' petite fingers and Harry could swear his heart did not melt
at that.
Looking down at Louis' hand in between the two bodies, Harry looks back into
the boys' eyes, not yet making an attempt to speak.
Sliding his hand off of Harry's stomach, Louis meets it with his other hand at
the small of his back.
"Um, I was wondering uh..." Louis scratches his temple which slowly collects
light sweat.
As Harry looks at Louis with quirked brows, Louis thinks its enough to let him
know that Harry's listening for him to go further.
"I was wondering if you'd like to be partners." Louis rocks on his heels, back
and forth. What a nervous wreck, Louis Tomlinson you are right now, oh the
irony.
Harry opens his mouth to say something, but there's really nothing to say.
Does he want to be this boy he knows he truly loves, project partner? Yes,
Harry thinks. But is it a right thing to do after all this culprit had done to
him? Maybe not, Harry draws back.
Just as he opens his mouth, realising Louis is still patiently looking at him
with hopeful eyes, a voice calls out from the side, making both of the boys
look right away.
"Sorry, Harry and I are already partners. Next time, beautiful." The boy with
the purple fringe shrugs, smiling, eyeing both of the boys.
Louis wants to scoff, 'beautiful'? Was that supposed to make him feel good or
something, Louis sends cold glares to the boy who's sat completely aware of the
tension between Louis and Harry.
"We are?" Harry asks clueless, curving his brow.
"Yep, we are. So sorry mate, better find someone else before they're all out.
And um Harry, Why don't you get us that instruction sheet so we can start."
Michael instructs as he slides his phone into his jean jackets' pocket, resting
his elbows on top of his desk.
Harry and Louis are definitely dumbstruck, staring at Michael thinking who does
this kid thinks he is. Well...just Louis.
"Come on, Harry." Michael forces a wide smile, looking back and forth between
the boys.
Harry moves his gaze from Michael and sighs at Louis' face, shrugging and
walking past him.
Turning around as he walks, he notices Louis staring at Michael and Michael
doing the same. Yeah, some things are obviously happening and Harry is going to
find out.
Picking the sheet off of Mrs. Urban's desk, avoiding her smiling face, Harry
walks back to his seat not missing Louis at the back corner with River again.
Flopping on his seat, he crosses his arms over his desk, and buries his face
along with his thoughts into it.
A few moments later, he peeks from his left eye, noticing a playful grin
growing on Michael's lips.
Harry quirks his brows, "how did you know my name?" He asks, as its the first
thing that comes to his mind.
"Ms...erm...Mrs...Urman called your name, when you were in the halls." Michael
nods, moving a piece of dark purple hair out of his eye.
Harry nods back, "It's Mrs. Urban, actually."
Michael could laugh. "Whatever." He smirks down at Harry, as Harry second
guesses this boy's personality.
As he remembers a little flashback from few seconds ago, his eyes quirk and he
quickly sits up.
"Why did you do that?" He asks, pointing past his shoulder with his thumb,
indicating the past scenario from a minute ago.
Michael's smirk drops, as he leans closer to Harry. Resting his own elbow on
Harry's desk, he throws his other arm around Harry's neck.
 
The look that forms on Harry's face would be judged hilarious, but that'd be
rude considering he could actually piss himself at this very moment. Looking
between Michael's eyes and his hand where it slowly digs past Harry's nape,
Harry quickly smacks it away.
Michael chuckles throaty and bitter, before crossing his arms over, still
keeping his gaze on Harry.
Harry's shocked, confused, surprised, mostly surprised, but he can't stop but
stare. It's like his eyes are glued. He doesn't know, or can think of anything
else but stare back.
"Harry..." Michael, trails on as he's now smirking all toothy with the raised
brows.
"What?" Harry says too soon, as he notices he's been staring at this punkish-
styled freak way too long.
"I think we should start...the project, you know." Michael points at the
untouched paper on Harry's desk.
Not bothering a word for response, Harry slips up the paper with two fingers
and reads.
Going through the procedures, steps, tips, and the due date, Harry puffs out
and slams the paper on his desk, glancing at Michael.
"Who's house first, mine or yours?" He asks, giving the paper a final look
before turning to Michael as Michael himself peeks at him above his phone.
"Mine." Michael says, looking at Harry, waiting for his confirmation.
A buzz from the fabric of Harry's pants shake his focus, and he  
pulls his index finger in Michael's face, meaning to give him a minute to get
back to him. Which, Michael nods back to and pull his own phone out, to pass
the time or just to not look awkward watching Harry whilst he himself is
texting, or picking a call. Callings probably forbidden in school rules, so
it's most likely a text, Michael thinks and continues scrolling down his
phone's news feed.
Clicking on the home button, Harry feels though it's finally Erin giving up and
telling him what this 'information' she's to tell him, but his hopes are
quickly down the drain as the ID reads this annoying, beautiful person who goes
by the name of; Louis Tomlinson.
Sliding the text to reveal it open, Harry slightly moves the phone toward his
chest incase anyone's eyes land on it. Especially this new, mysteriously
creepy, human who's to be partners with him, is sat right next to him.
 
From; Louis Tomlinson
Roxie's at 3:45. We need to talk.
 
Harry's face expression couldn't be any different than a simple brick, but if
he could, Harry would definitely burst into one of his undying laughs, where he
clutches on his stomach, panting and gasping for air, trying to get his
breathing rate back together.
Just staring at the phone with no reaction to it whatsoever, Harry sniffs and
casually puts the phone back into his pocket, until he feels the buzz against
his palm this time.
Breathing, casually breathing like a normal human, Harry sees the phone already
bright enough to illuminate each of the words on the screen.
 
From; Louis Tomlinson
Please.
 
Well, well, well, my dear Louis Tomlinson, Harry sings in his head, this time
smirking-reacting to the text.
As Harry slides the phone back into his pants pocket again, his faint smirk
disappears, as the irritating, school bell echoes the class extremely loudly.
Harry looks around the class as it kind of seems smaller and quieter than it
usually, always is. As his turning head makes it to corner, before meeting eyes
with the culprit, Harry plays cool and turns back around. Gently pushing his
chair to the back, he stands up, and slides his books and the instruction sheet
off of his desk, the new kid mirroring his actions excluding the picking his
books part because rather his phone and a black trench coat, seeming as its the
first day, the new kid literally came with nothing.
As Harry notices this whilst throwing his book bag over his shoulder, he's
suddenly questioning whether if this boy would ever help, or if he'd do the
whole entire thing by himself like he always does for partner projects.
"Uh, I'll see-"
"'ll pick you up at the parking lot after school," he exits the class. Not
making any eye contact, or even giving him a chance to suggest his own answer.
Harry rolls his eyes at the tall body whom just dissapeared through the open
white doors. Harry's starting to grow sick by the count of stuck up kids always
finding him. It's like the Gods are playing with me, Harry shakes his head.
Thinking about his last thoughts for a second, Harry almost shudders, hoping
the big guy had not heard him say that.
Turning around, his eyes quickly capture Erin, pushing past people and finally
reach him. Harry grips on to his book bag, patiently waiting for Erin whilst
she picks her own belongings off of her desk she was sat before a random shorty
pulled her away from Harry, and her ability of being his partner.
Damn you, shorty, Harry crosses his arms over his chest.
Hooking her purse over her shoulder, Erin waves two fingers to her project
partner and stalks Harry who's already turned around, walking ahead with couple
of other students behind him.
"Can you wait?" Erin calls as she jogs her way out of the class, meeting with
Harry by his side.
Harry isn't responding. Keeping his hands tight around opposite biceps, he
walks towards the exit with a straight face and a desperate girl following him.
"What did I do now?" Erin groans, pushing the back-exit doors with Harry, then
stepping onto the parking lot.
Harry once again doesn't respond to Erin's obliviousness.
As Harry picks up his pace, walking between cars to step onto the pavement,
Erin grasps his wrist, tugging on it.
She holds the exposed skin tighter as Harry finally stops, turning around on
his heels and responding with a tired look.
"Yes. Erin?" He asks, very annoyed with the situation but careful of showing
too much of it.
Erin removes her hand off of his wrist only to wrap them around herself. "Care
to tell me why you're pulling the moody teenager card now?" She taps her left
foot like a stuck up teacher, asking students why they're not doing they're
work, when her horrible teaching is the common problem.
Harry blinks, quirking his brows upwards. "I'm the moody teenager?" He repeats
in a slow matter, pointing to his chest with his thumb.
"Uh huh." Erin nods, keeping her arms wrapped around herself due to the
November month, and the much-expected chilly wind.
"Okay," Harry, too nods, "Hows it my fault, considering it's you who's being
the horrible friend. Hm? I thought you said," Harry quotes with his fingers,
"we'd share things with each other, and that we'd tell anything to-" as Harry
is so deep into his rant, he's confused in a sudden when having Erin quickly
bring her hand to her stomach, and loud laughs slap Harry's face like a truck.
He's confused. Harry's always confused, to be honest. When is he never
confused? There are no times he's ever been so sure with himself and his
actions, and one of those times are definitely happening right now, and Harry
could pull his waves of hair out of their roots, one by one. Maybe that's the
first thing he's sure of for now, maybe he could jot dot down somewhere in his
notebook that's probably hiding under his bed next to all of his other
secretive-Louis included things.
"Erin, care to tell me what's so funny that you're actually turning red in this
oddly cold temperatured weather?" Harry eyes her position, and glares a bit at
the dramatic sigh that comes at the end of what seems to be her last giggle.
"Wow," Erin swallows, a wide toothy smile upon her lips. Moving her position,
she shuffles towards Harry, stopping by his side and leaning against the
parked, black Range Rover on her back.
Harry does the same, sliding his hands into his pocket and trying to force
himself to at least look calm and not desperate because he really is desperate
to find out what Erin's keeping from him and maybe that's another thing he's
sure of himself and maybe Harry should pull out that rusty, old notebook of his
under his bed.
As they're both side to side now, enjoying the much appreciated silence,
looking at the roaming, dark blue sky, Erin decides Harry's suffered enough.
"The new kid," She smiles to herself and what's about to come out of her mouth.
Harry turns his head, looking over his shoulder to Erin who's not yet looking
back at him, and still dazed on the dead, foggy sky.
"The one you're doing the project with," she smiles so hard that she has to
bite on the tip of her tongue to keep out the giggles begging to escape.
"Harry, he's gay."
Maybe, Harry shouldn't have been desperate all along. Maybe he shouldn't have
even came to school, maybe Harry should dig a hole right in this parking lot
and bury himself in it.
His lips part the same second as the words fall out of Erin's mouth. He
swallows, closing his mouth but they fail them and drop back down.
"So...you're saying that-"
"That there's another boy who likes...well other boys at our school." She
shrugs, finally at last looking at Harry with a sympathetic grin.
Harry turns his eyes, to bring it back to the sky, rapidly thinking to himself,
wow,wow,wow,wow.
"Wha-cheer up! I thought you'd be happy!" Erin frowns, slapping his shoulder
playfully.
"I am..but..." Harry trails on, swallowing, still keeping his gaze on the
moving clouds. He sighs, looking back at Erin over his shoulder. "Did you think
I'd go for him just because he's gay?" He asks with a lazy tone, knowing
exactly what answer he's going to receive.
Erin shrugs a shoulder.
Harry turns his head back again, knowing they're both still starving. Despite
the pancakes he ate for Gemma, when having a fresh food selling plaza right
across the lights, Harry's stomach is still making noises.
"Wanna get some thing to eat now?" He asks, pulling himself off of the Range
Rover, looking down at Erin who's still pouting, staring at her own feet.
Harry smirks at the imagery in front of him, "look who's being a moody teen
now," he shakes his head, reaching for her wrist and gently pulling her with
him onto the sidewalk, and away from school's parking lot.
As Erin follows, skipping to catch up with him, she shrugs to her self, "you
know, I was just trying to help." She walks in a regular pace once she's
reached Harry's side.
"I know," Harry says in a questionably hoarse tone, immediately clearing his
throat later. "Darn it," he stops on his tracks, throwing his head back and
groaning.
"What?" Erin chirps, stopping with him.
"Not only am I partners with him," Harry pinches between his brows, "I'm also
gunna have to spend the night at his too...God this is going to get awkward."
Harry peeks at Erin only stares at him just lost.
Rubbing his face upwards, Harry lets out a frustrated sigh then eventually
drags his legs towards the plaza followed by the lost puppy behind him.
"I reckon thats a rule for all uh, homosexuals." Erin pokes Harry's clothed
bicep, as they both walk trough the strong wind.
"What do you mean, what rule?" Harry calls out beside him, squinting,
attempting to block out the wind.
"You said you're staying overnight? Is that a rule? I mean, why would you-"
"The project, Erin." Harry looks at her through the corner of his eye, "it's
for the project we chose. Both of us are gunna sleep over at each other's
houses and film or write down a documentary about our lives. It's stupid,
really." Harry shakes his head to remove a strand piece of hair from his eye.
"Oh," Erin grins.
Obviously Harry notices the pleasant tone in her voice, he rolls his eyes at
it.
Once they step onto the parking lot of the plaza, they jog their way to Harry's
favourite Italian restaurant and step inside. The warm air inside of the little
restaurant satisfies their shivering bodies, as they rub their hands on their
arms to add more friction into it.
Harry suggests Erin to try his usual dish, and Erin agrees to it. Stuffing
their stomachs with a medium sized plate of pasta, having a playful belching
competition, they both exit the shop along with a tip at the cashier.
Two of their last classes goes by with not much excitement, but full of
wonders. Harry's thinking of ways to not make the sleep over at the new kid's
house not awkward. But him being a professional awkward mortal, he's definitely
going to fail his attempts tonight. Louis today though has not made any else
tries to talk to Harry, or as he thinks. After his weird way of surprisingly
wanting to be Harry's project partner, he's actually never spoken or even
looked his direction, Harry somewhat worries.
He shouldn't be worrying though, he should be not caring and being the most
carefree human in this state.
The last class which he has no one who he interacts with, ends and Harry
suddenly feels the urge to talk to the new kid and call tonight off. Harry
doesn't even know the boy, what if he's some secret drug dealer? He could
actually pull it off if Harry has to be honest. He means, the ripped sleeves,
worn pants and the purple highlights in his hair definitely says so.
But then again, it's for school. And even though Harry's passing the class with
a 98, he still considers he should get the highest mark he could because the
scholarship he wants so bad, is the most important thing in his life aside from
Louis' existence and his families happiness.
And for his family to become happier he needs to earn those credits to earn
scholarship so he could get into university. And once he's achieved that too,
he'd find a fine flat and finish university and become a successful lawyer, his
family could always talk about with full of proud and loyalty.
Harry's got all of that planned. He's got something different planned too but
considering how things are going so downhill at the moment, he thinks there
isn't really a point to plan that right now.
As Harry jaunts his way out of the class to get to his locker, he makes a
beeline, turning around the corner to get to the other hallway where his locker
is stood.
He's so into his thoughts of what his future would turn out or how it'd be
like, that he definitely does not see the ice cold water soak him from his head
to all the way to his hips.
Harry doesn't react, just stays slouched in his position with his dry lips
parted, school button up and vest clinging to his chest and his hair damp in
front of his eyes just as the new kid comes running from his side, pinning the
person who poured the water over Harry, against a wall.
"What the fuck is your problem huh?" He snarls, not caring about the silent
crowd building around him.
Michael puts his right arm over the quivering form of a weak class mate's
throat, pressing it so that he would feel the pain.
"I-I was fo-forced to p-pour the water over a nerd. I d-didn't see him. They t-
told me the n-nerd was coming through the door," the boy barely says the words.
Michael fuming even more, presses down on the boy's throat one more time before
telling him to scram. He looks back at Harry's now shivering state and sighs.
"You alright?" He asks, taking steps to him, and lifts Harry's chin with his
index finger lightly.
Harry looks through his soaked hair, noticing people are now shuffling away in
their spots muttering words to each other. As Harry focuses on the crowd that's
scattering away, he notices a pair of eyes darting back at him with so much
meaning. So much, secretive meanings.
As the boy notices he's caught Harry's attention he looks at him with a final
apologetic look and turns around, joining the people walking away out the
doors.
Harry brings his eyes back in front of him only to notice how close he's stood
with the new boy and oh his god, Harry could shriek.
Also noticing his chin sitting on the boy's finger so comfortably he nods not
knowing to what, and leans down to pick up his book bag on the floor.
"Why'd you do that?" Harry mutters, as he snatches his book off of the ground,
throwing it over his shoulder that's also soaked along with his entire top.
Michael does not move his position, he seems to be enjoying his personal space
so filled right now, Harry assumes.
Once Harry's stood back dangerously close to him, he freezes when the purple
haired dude brings his finger back onto Harry's face and brush the long strands
of hair out of his forehead.
Harry's biting inside his cheeks, he's biting so hard, thinking as if it would
stop the flushing on his cheeks. He knows he's probably burning pink right now,
God, I am so gay, Harry thinks.
"You're gunna freeze, let's go get you changed yeah?" Michael offers, but
realising Harry's going to continue to stare at him blankly all day, he takes
Harry's hand into his and drags him into the janitor's closet.
 
>>>>>
 
"Shit," Harry curses, hating that his hair, books that he kept against his
chest during the incident and clothes are all drenched. He dabs a napkin from
his book bag his around his forehead before taking a pile of his fringe and
throwing it to the back.
"You still haven't told me why you did that," Harry reminds the boy following
him carefully down the stairs to find the school's janitor.
"Let's just say, I'm a very generous person." Michael grins behind, his
statement making Harry scoff.
"Oh really..." Harry trails on, with a childish tone causing a light chuckle to
escape from Michael's mouth.
The basement is full of old lockers and storage rooms. The light down there is
dimmed, giving a scary effect. Harry and Michael carefully walk towards the
room Harry knows the janitor to be in. He knocks the door, and a middle aged
man comes out.
"Hey Ben."
"Har- whoa, what happened to you mate?" Ben asks after seeing the state Harry's
in.
Harry takes a full bite of his bottom lip, "yeah, couple of friends pulled a
prank and the rest is... As you can see," he gestures himself up and down with
his hands. "Do you have an extra shirt that I can borrow?" He asks as the boy
behind him shuffles on his feet towards the wall. Crossing his arms over,
Michael leans against the wall and locks his ankles together.
"Of course Harry, yes I do. Wait here, and I'll go get it," Ben tells Harry
before disappearing into the room to be back after a minute with school's gym
t-shirt. He also has a towel as well.
"Thanks," Harry reaches for the towel and school's grizzly bear customised gym
teeshirt Ben had picked for him.
Resting the stuff on a rack of the book shelf next to him, he quickly pulls his
damp navy sweater vest over his head, along with the rest of his uniform.
A light choke and a throat clearing flows from just behind him, making Harry
freeze from putting the gym teeshirt over his head.
Crap, he panics. Poor Harry really has forgotten the new kid's into boys and
having him choke at Harry's unattractively pale skin, isn't a very good start.
A ghost shiver trails down Harry's back and he quickly pulls down the shirt
over his chest.
As he turns around, he quickly flops the towel against his soaking hair only to
dry off the dripping water from the tips.
Shaking his head onto the towel thats spread wide in his hands, he scruffs his
hair one last time before sneezing onto it.
"Ou watch out there, I think you're catching onto something." Michael grins as
Harry turns around fully, grabbing his damp uniform and stuffing them into a
plastic bag he's spotted in the corner of the room.
"Are we going straight to yours?" Harry asks, as he climbs back the stairs from
the storage room with Michael following behind again.
"Yeah, do you have a boyfriend?" Michael chirps, as they both land on school's
first floor.
As Harry's about to make another step he almost chokes on his spit, "what?"
"Boyfriend. You know someone you hang out with, like date. I want to know if
you have a boyfriend?" Michael repeats, taking a step in front of Harry and
stare at him with questioning eyes.
Harry's brows almost knit together. No flushing, no confusion just startled he
is.
"Why would you ask that?"
Michael follows as Harry walks to his locker with the plastic bag full of his
soaked uniform in his hand, "Call it curiosity," he smirks, confident with his
words.
"Curiosity is never good," Harry presses his lips into a straight line as he
throws his wet books into his locker and slams it shut.
"What makes you believe that?" Michael plays along, quickly leaning down Harry
before he could even fully turn around from his locker.
Breathless, Harry says, "Didn't you hear? Curiosity always kills the cat."
Pressing his foot between Harry's legs, Michael pins a hand next to Harry's
head and leans dangerously close to his face.
If Harry's heart was not racing before, they are definitely about to fall out
of his chest now.
He sees the way Michael's inches away eyes fall down below his eyes, darting
right on his lips.
Harry can sense what's going to happen next, but he just prays to the Gods it
doesn't.
As Michael pulls his hand down from the locker, to cup Harry's jaw, Harry's
heart starts to race. And right as Harry closes his eyes, Michael whispers, "I
guess I should be careful, huh?" before moving back with a smirk that's been
nailed on his face from before.
Wow, thinks Harry. He's quiet slick.
He glares at Michael before slinging his bag over his shoulder. "You wanna go
or not?"
Michael smiles, "after you."
Harry walks ahead, Michael following closely behind. "Where's your car?" He
asks Michael.
"Right over there" Michael points to a red corvette parked beside a tree.
"Nice car." Comments Harry as he eyes the car. This guy must also be rich,
thinks Harry.
>>>>>
 
After what Harry feels like twenty minutes of a ride or so, Harry hears Michael
mutter something that signifies that they're here at Michael's. He quickly
flicks his eyes open, embarrassed and can't believe that he's fallen asleep in
Michael's car during the ride.
As his whole body is facing the window, in a very uncomfortable position, he
peeks from his shoulder to see Michael turning the stirring wheel to what looks
like a drive way of his house.
He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, and sits up, pulling his book bag on
his lap.
"Had a good nap?" Michael grins teasingly, as the car's now parked in front of
a closed garage's door.
Harry takes a breath, rubbing his left eye to remove the blur with the pad of
his hand. He mentally makes a promise to himself to avoid all of Michael's
statements, annoying attitude, or just his presence through the night but
considering the project itself is actually about Michael, he knows he's just
going to have to suck it up. Just one night is all, Harry nods to his thoughts
and pulling by the door, he steps out of the car followed by Michael.
Both boys enter the dimmed house, Michael flicking the lights on with his elbow
as he gets his hand held on to his phone by his ear.
"Nah man," Michael sounds conflicted as he heads towards a hallway with a
confused Harry slowly following behind, his eyes carefully eyeing inside the
house to check if there's any one home along with them.
Michael turns around a corner, entering what looks like a kitchen, followed by
Harry who awkwardly watches him from the corner, his fingers held nervously
playing with the main zipper of his book bag.
Michael opens a silver fridge that's stood in the opposite corner, pulling a
medium sized glass bottle out. Before closing the fridge, he pulls the phone
away from his ear to turn around to Harry. Gesturing the brown bottle to
Harry's direction, Harry knows he's being offered for a beer so he quickly
presses his lips together in a tight, straight line and shakes his head.
"Alright, 'gotta go now though, soon, 'k man," Michael walks towards Harry,
swinging the beer side to side, as he locks his phone, throwing it to the
counter on the side.
"So, Harry..." Michael trails on before gazing up at him from his beer thats
pressed on his lips.
Harry moves his head to the side as a way to ask him what he's going to say.
Michael pulls down the bottle before licking his lips, wetting them.
"This shit's really good," Michael says suddenly off topic, tilting the bottle
to his face, checking out the label. "Why don't you want one?" he frowns,
pushing the bottle to Harry's face.
Harry's nose squirms a the smell of the alcohol running up his nose. Reaching
to push the beer back, he shakes his head a couple of times.
"I, uh don't drink." He simply says.
Michael widening his eyes, steps back.
"You know you're really fit," he huffs, crossing his arms over, checking Harry
out, making Harry the least pleasant.
Obviously Harry blushes to Michael's cheeky words, his eyes falling to his
shoes, cheeks flushing baby pink.
"Um we should st-tart the, uh, recording," Harry stammers, fumbling with the
zipper of his book bag to take out the recording camera.
Michael's brows quirk, "we've got all day Harry, come on. Let's go to my room
first," Michael gently reaches for Harry's elbow but receives the opposite
attention.
Jerking his elbow back, Harry swallows.
He wants to tell him, that he's not sure if that's the right idea but knowing
Michael up to this date now, he considers shutting up and following him. But
he's already gotten a mini plan sorted out in his mind; a pepper spray hiding
deep inside his bookbag, one move Michael makes and the spray meets his face.
Muttering a soft 'okay' under his breath, he shrugs unknowingly, following
Michael up the steps of the stairs.
When they're both on the second floor, Michael gestures with his finger over
his shoulder to tell him to come on over and Harry does so. As Michael walks to
the end of the hallway, he reaches for a door knob and swoons the door open. He
stands against the open door, nodding inside the room for Harry to step inside.
Doing it so, Harry takes slow, steady steps inside the room, stopping in the
middle.
As he turns around to Michael's direction he makes sure to get a glimpse of his
room.
The room is pretty much not your average teenage boy's room. It's far, far from
that, Harry thinks. It's pitch black, not blue for one, Harry states to
himself. Thin blood-red stripes are all over the room, reaching in different
angles, his furnitures dark grey, and there's literally not a single ray of
sunshine entering the room.
"How do you live in here?" Harry asks, eyes curious, tone offending.
Michael smiles faintly, walking over to his bed that also happens to be black,
except for the white sheets that seem to peek out and a pair of white pillows.
Flopping on his bed, he throws his hands behind, locking them under his head.
"What, you don't like it?" Michael grins playfully, knowing what the answer is
going to be but pushing Harry's buttons anyways.
Harry pauses, I don't even know what I feel about it, everything is so dark..."
Harry says unbelievably, looking down at the boy.
"Just like my soul," Michael pouts before smiling back again.
Rolling his eyes, Harry rests his hands on his hips, eyeing the boy's room
again, somewhat interestedly.
"Well, do you wanna get started on the recording then?" Harry asks, bringing
his gaze back on Michael who seems to be very comfortable in his position.
"Ugh," Michael groans picking up the extra pillow by his side and throwing it
on Harry's head, messing his hair.
Harry gasps as he meets the pillow in his face, his hair all over his eyes.
"What was that for?" Harry asks surprised by the reaction he's received.
Michael glares, "for being all nerdy. Can you just sit down for a whilst?
Aren't you tired or something?"
"Nah," Harry replies, but does take a seat on the bean bag next to Michael's
bed. "Also, I am uh, what you call your 'school's nerd' so you shouldn't be
questioning on that."
Michael sits up, looking down at Harry on the floor, "oh 'at reminds me, what
was that whole bucket full of water down your head thing even about?" Michael
asks, sitting against the cold wall with his pillow on his lap.
Harry knew this question was going to appear some time around tonight but he
hadn't actually figured what he's going to say. Nibbling on his bottom lip, he
pauses for a moment before opening his mouth to respond but gets caught
distracted when a light chuckle comes from his side.
"My my, Harry. Are you always getting in trouble like this? A badass that can't
even take a sip of beer, priceless." Michael continues chuckling, leaving Harry
dumbfounded.
Leaning in, Harry exclaims, "did you miss the part where I said I'm what you
call your school's nerd? You know, the person who sits at the back, always does
his work, has no life...? I am that person." Harry says each word so slow,
meaning them to register in Michael's brain.
Looking puzzled, Michael stares at Harry, probably thinking of something to
respond. He sighs, "okay well I don't believe that crap." Michael shakes his
head, receiving a frustrated sigh from Harry. Michael grins as he remembers a
scene from today's date. "You know, I seen the way you look at'm." He smirks,
waggling his brow once.
Harry's head shoots up, eyes darting at Michael's intimidating, dark ones. He
doesn't say anything, he can't say anything. Unless he's discovered the right
thing to say, he won't say anything; it's kind of a rule of Harry's.
Michael keeps nodding, a teasing quirked brow getting the worst of Harry.
"What?" Harry blurts almost unintentionally.
Michael looks down, shaking his head with little chuckles from his mouth.
"That guy, that came to you...I seen the way you look at'm." Michael repeats,
"trust me, I know that look. Not a lot of guys carry it, only certain ones and
it's quite secretive. You don't want anyone to see it, but lemme tell you, the
guy's face wasn't anything different." Michael explains, the smile fading away
replacing a somewhat perturbed one.
Harry isn't feeling terrified, he would be, but seeming as the boy in front of
him is almost identical to him due to their sexuality and being, he's rather
smoothed and feeling astonishingly calm.
Although, Harry is slightly clueless to Michael's statement and his choice of
words when about people's ways of looks. But what the hell does he mean by
Louis 'carrying' the same look of him...
"Can I ask you something though?"
Harry tilts his head up, looking at him, his previous thoughts thrown away to
the side. "Hm?"
"Is there any gays at our school? Or bi?" Michael asks ever so casually,
resting his chin in his palm.
"Um," Harry swallows, hoping not to stutter and give any visible information
away. "No, not that I know of." He feels his shoulders breaking down, and
bricks piling up on each of them.
Michael makes a frowny face, "bummer."
Harry nods, playing well. Though, there's a question he finds himself curious
about. It's probably the way Michael is so observing, and open with his
sexuality. Both something Harry's never been capable of.
As there's not really a particular question roaming in his mind, he thinks, oh
what the heck, and opens his mouth to begin with his questions, up until
Michael slides down on the bed, asking, "hungry?"
Harry blinks at the sudden attention, attempting to bring his mind together.
"No," yes.
"K, too bad. Let's uh..." Michael licks his lip, looking towards a direction
then brining his eyes back to Harry. "Do you cook?"
Harry feels puzzled by the unexpected question, but thinks for second, and
responds quietly, "I guess..."
Michael beams, standing up from his bed. "Great."
Watching Michael above him with a not much astonished look, Harry 
furrows his brows to what the purple haired dude is going on about.
"We should have pasta downstairs or something, you know how to make pasta
right?" Michael reaches for Harry's hand, pulling him off of his bum from the
bean bag cushion.
Harry makes a face at the smell of the gym shirt's scent he has clothed on. He
shouldn't really be complaining since it's the only thing he's got, but the
smell isn't definitely pleasing and Harry just really needs to do something
before he passes out from the horrendous smell. It's irritating, plus Harry
doesn't want to be smelt so bad near someone he's just met. It's direct a bad
impression really, and Harry doesn't want that to happen.
"Yeah, I've noticed it too..." Michael winces, leaning to sniff his shoulder,
making a face almost identical to Harry's. "Take it off, I'll get you something
better." Michael snaps his finger in an 'outie' way, and turns around walking
towards his closet.
Harry bites on his lip, "it's actually fine. 'm not really bothered." Harry
mumbles behind Michael who's going through his stacks of shirts that aren't
strangely most black, some navy and a few grey.
Emo, Harry isn't hundred percent sure if Michael is.
"Yeah, well I am." Michael scoffs quietly.
Harry knows a smirk is plastered there on Michael's cheeky face, the tone could
say it so.
Harry puffs through his nose before gripping on the hem of the shirt and
pulling it over his head. Holding the shirt in his hand, he feels, he knows
there soon will be an awkward tension in the room. Watching as Michael kneels
down this time, his back still turned to him, Harry nibbles on his bottom lip.
He's been doing that so often, God knows what shape they're in right now.
"Y' like The Wombats?" Michael asks as he's eyeing a black, graphic teeshirt
with the letters of the band in big, bold letters.
Harry remembers the band being one of Gemma's favourites so he shrugs, it's
just a teeshirt anyway, "sure."
Michael stands up from his position, turning around to Harry with the shirt in
his hand.
As he's fully turned around, his eyes that Harry thinks are supposed to be
facing his owns back, are quickly dropped below his face.
God, no, please no, Harry repeats in his mind.
Michael's lips turn to a toothy smirk, almost all of his teeth shining bright
white.
His gaze hasn't yet risen though, eyes falling everywhere, circulating on his
flesh. Harry can feel the Emo's eyes travel directly on his biceps, neck and
chest.
Michael smirks even wider, probably wider than Louis, and Louis can smirk,
Harry means. Louis' smirks are the cutest, never intimidated him or anything
unlike the boy's standing in front of him, almost about to make Harry piss his
trousers.
Michael comes closer, Harry clutching the shirt in his hand so tight he knows
his knuckles are gone white by this very moment.
"Tattoos aye," Michael finally brings his gaze up to Harry, "they look quite
hot on you."
Harry's jaw has probably never been so tense, it's stiff and clenched.
Literally so sharp, it could shatter a glass into billions of pieces.
Michael avoiding Harry's creeped state, steps so close to him almost feeling
the air Harry's letting out through his nose, on his face.
He brings up his index finger, trailing it down just below Harry's shoulder
where another one of Harry's tattoo is inked.
"I like this one, this ship right here." He looks at Harry, who drops his gaze
down the area his finger's trailing over.
"Thanks," Harry breathes out, glancing back into Michael's greyish eyes which
he could swear were a light shade of green few hours ago.
"You're very fit-"
"Oh..kay," Harry snatches the band's shirt from Michael's hand, smiling
nervously before throwing the shirt over his head.
Adjusting the hem of the shirt, he pulls it down, making sure it isn't exposing
any visible skin of his. God, if Harry knew how much his body -which he
definitely finds unattractive- was going to put such an affect on him, he
literally would've stuck with the rusty, old smelly school shirt.
Michael smirks, nodding his head up, "so you still hungry then?"
Harry hums carelessly, food not really taking place in any parts of Harry's
brain.
Both of the boys jog their steps downstairs, turning into the kitchen. As Harry
realises Michael isn't really going to manage to find a simple steel pan, Harry
sighs, gently pushing him to the side and digging through the cabinets in
Michael's kitchen himself.
Once spotting the not so simple and small pan, he makes a little 'aha' noise
under his breath and pulls it out. His brows quirk together as he adjusts the
heat of the stove, the pan already having itself seated on it.
He instructs Michael the ingredients and realising once more that until Michael
figures out where the ingredients are held, the pan's base would soon get
toasted.
He tells him a 'hurry' but rolls his eyes when Michael walks behind him,
cockily grinning with the ingredients clutched against his chest.
"Got'm all," he winks, resting the packet of pasta, sauce and whatnot's on the
cupboard across.
"Oil," Harry calls out over his shoulder, Michael pulling it out of his
mountain of stacked ingredients, then carrying it over to Harry.
Harry uncaps the lid, and pours down the heavy oil, eyes focused on each drip.
Knowing it's good enough, he hands the bottle of oil back to Michael and shakes
the pan side to side to get the oil spread.
"Pasta." Harry blurts out again with the other ingredients following by.
Stirring and stirring and stirring most likely of twelve or so minutes, the
empty, dead house is suddenly filled with delicious smells of Harry's wonders.
It's a good thing really, through making the pasta, Harry thought to himself
that Michael isn't such an obnoxious or weird as he claims of a person, after
all.
Michael did get to tell him why they're both alone in such big house nearly
mansion, with no one calling or any proof of someone that also lived with him;
much like a family portrait maybe.
Apparently, Michael's parents had been divorced for when he was about fifteen.
The breakup as Michael told the interested boy, had not really made an effect
on him. His mother was a direct 'whore', Michael filled in Harry so honestly,
and that she'd continuously would get caught with a brand new face of a men by
the end of the week. His father couldn't handle it anymore and had gotten the
separation documents ready within a day. When his mother left the house to
another one of her weekly pricks, Michael's dad had started seeing a young
woman who Michael himself literally felt ashamed for seeing with his own forty
or God knows how old of a dad. The women didn't seem to be complaining at all,
so Michael thought fuck it, fuck everyone and fuck the world. After his father
announced a new wedding in their schedule, Michael forced a smile and left the
house, arriving hours later with a whole different hair style and a disturbing
image of clothing. His father couldn't give a less damn as he was too up in his
fresh wife's face. Wasn't a big surprise to Michael though, he went on living
his life with the same daily ruitines until they -for no particular reason as
Michael's dad had told him- moved out of the city; Barhington to Doncaster,
Yorkshire. Life in here, Michael explained as Harry added the sauce into the
raw pasta, is quite interesting and different. He didn't quite explain the
reason why as Harry didn't ask in the first place. His dad and Holly, Michael's
step mother, had left the entire country to New Zealand for a basic vacation,
and that's exactly why Michael's all alone in this big, wide of a mansion.
The story did seem quite interesting and sort of sad. But Harry didn't want to
say that to Michael's face, he'd have to be an idiot to do so.
As Michael's leant against the cupboard next to Harry, his ankles folded and
elbows leaning to the back, Harry breaks his gaze from the pasta to beam at
Michael.
Michael lifts his own from the stirring, wooden spoon to respond a curve of his
lips to Harry. "I like your dimples," He nods to Harry's left cheek making
Harry's fragile heart flutter with in seconds.
"Well uh," Harry leans over the stove to turn the heat off, "why don't you set
the table ready, the pasta looks good enough." Harry eyes the pan in front of
him, his hand never leaving the black handle. The way his fingers are wrapped
around the long utensil, grip obviously tight as it looks makes Michael's head
go dizzy. He just wishes they were wrapped around something else instead.
"Michael," Harry mumbles, looking at him confused as he looks more dazed then
ever. "Hello, uh mate..." Harry waves his free hand in front of Michael causing
him to blink in a matter of seconds.
"What?" Michael asks, looking between Harry's eyes and those long fingers.
"Table? Could you set it up?" Harry asks chuckling lazily at Michael's sudden
cluelessness.
Leaning off of the counter, Michael nods, walking straight and eyes still
glancing at Harry's skinny, pale, fingers that seem to be literally going for
miles.
As Michael stumbles on his feet, his mind scatters back together, along with
his thoughts. "Uh, what did you want me to do?" He asks, Harry turning around
with a glare Michael had gotten used to, and an exaggerated sigh.
"Are you even listening at all?" Harry groans, pulling his hands to his hips.
"Sorry," Michael smiles, all teeth on display; finding Harry's anger insanely
adorable.
Groaning, Harry widens his eyes before adding a shake of his head. "The table,
could you please set it up?"
"Ohh...no, no." Michael shakes his head, walking back in front of Harry. "We'll
just eat in my room, you can film there too. We've got good lightening." He
nods, turning to the cupboards and pulling two big green bowls.
Harry placing three spoonful of pasta into each bowls, Michael in the meantime,
pours peach juice into Harry's glass and snatches himself a beer from the
fridge.
Both boys walk back upstairs into Michael's room, each carrying their own meal
in their hands. Michael takes his seat on the floor agains his bed, Harry sat
beside him with probably less than a few inches of gap between each other.
Michael's legs stretched across the room, Harry's own pair pressed onto his
chest, they laugh with both of their mouths full, nearly choking on their meal.
Michael isn't handling this little story of Harry's as he's slapping the wooden
floor he's sat on, panting hard with both of their laughs echoing the empty
room.
"Oh, my, g-" and he finds himself shutting his eyes tight, stomach aching from
the newly chuckles bursting out of his mouth. "God, holy!" He shakes his,
sighing, "y-you my friend...you're a shitty prankster but that was," Michael
shakes his head, trying to hold himself from laughing as his cheeks are almost
capable of breaking apart, "that was perfect. You really showed him," he nods
to Harry on his beside, who smirks back, dimples popping in affectation.
"But why, I mean, how?" Michael asks, starstruck by the unique mind of Harry's.
Harry shrugs, his smile almost there for eternity. "I don't know, I guess I
felt like he needed payback."
Michael sighs again, rubbing his face as if it would vanish his laughing face
away.
You see, the reason Michael feels like he's about to loose his mind is because
he just finds Harry so damn amusing. If Harry'd talk for hours and let it be
gibberish too, Michael knows he'd listen without a concern, he's almost scared
the thought of that would freak Harry out.
In the past, Harry had explained Michael when they weren't actually suffocating
and panting for air, around seventh grade, they were inside the change room's
and Harry was the last to change along with one of his classmates. As Harry
jogged his way out leaving a boy from his gym class behind, Harry remembered
the coach announcing to bring a pen inside the gymnasium to fill out a survey
and just when Harry makes his way inside, he spots the same exact kid placing
baby crabs inside Harry's trouser's pockets. To Harry's surprise, the kid
looked like he was about to piss his pants, his face had gone pale when he saw
Harry enter the changing room. Harry had acknowledged that this boy was scared
shitless, and he took the opportunity by gently picking the crabs out of his
trouser's pockets and placing them in the kid's underpants. The kid was in
literal shock, and Harry just grinned to himself at what he had accomplished.
"Okay," Harry feeds himself another fork full of pasta, "tell me about you, do
you 'ave any interesting stories?" He looks to his beside, chewing on his food.
Michael lifts his head to the sealing, dazing at it for a couple of seconds
then look back at Harry, shaking his head. "Nope, I'm not interesting at all."
Michael smiles crookedly, "but I still have some questions for you, kind of
like; what's the deal with Louis?" Michael shrugs, eyes furrowing.
Harry's breath hitches, almost choking on the bits of the pasta. "Um," he
thinks for a second for a proper answer. "He's just one of the bullies," Harry
aims for a shitty respond, not quite sure if Michael would cave in.
Michael quirks a brow, a playful smirk on his wet lips. "Are you sure that's
all he is, 'just a bully'?" He asks teasingly.
Harry nods secondly, not even a single blink of his eyes.
Michael plays a mischievous grin on his lips, "you know, it doesn't hurt to
admit the truth."
"I know that." Harry nods.
"You're lying," Michael shakes his head, his grin never attempting to fade
away. "You're a terrible actor Harry." Michael grins tighter almost turning it
into a smirk.
Obviously, he's left Harry completely freaked out. Though, it's mostly
confusion. Harry isn't steady by what Michael is trying to make him
acknowledge.
"Oh and also...I, I mean...there's rumours being passes around school," Michael
stirs his pasta, eyes boring into them as Harry's patiently wating for him to
go on. "People are...uh," Michael sighs, resting his fork against the inside of
his bowl and finally looking up at Harry. "People told me we'd get along."
Michael says, unsure if it is a good idea to tell him that.
Harry's brows knit together, oblivious of what Michael meant by they'd get
along. Though, he doesn't respond and chooses to wait for Michael to go on.
"They said that I'd get along with you because you're also gay." Michael
explains, voice content and unamused. "Is it true?" Michael asks, noticing the
gloomy change on Harry's face.
Harry's face stiffens, breath not actually hitching. He's just frozen, trying
to put his mind together for a respond. "That we'd get along?" Harry asks, his
voice hoarse from swallowing so much.
"No," Michael shakes his head, "that you're gay." He says it slow and steady
meaning it to synch in Harry's mind.
Harry pull his lips inside, pressing in a firm line before attemting a small
nod. "Yeah," He fakes a faint smile, "I am."
Michael looks through Harry's eyes, searching for them, for any type of answer
before having Harry's own actual response synch in his mind.
He almost chokes, "what?" His eyes widens as he gets on his knees in front of
Harry's crossed legs.
Harry grins, meaning it this time. "Michael, I'm gay." Harry nods, his grin
turning into a playful frown. "I'm also gay," he adds as Michael's lips part,
stretching into a full circle, low gasp escaping his lips.
He furrows his brows and gently smacks Harry's shoulder. "Well why didn't you
tell me earlier, I was shitting myself to find a fucking excuse to get you to
admit." He glares.
Harry's the one gasping and smacking now. "You twat! You fooled me!" He frowns,
crossing his arms over, huffing so exaggeratedly.
"Yeah well only to get you to admit. God knows otherwise how you'd come out,"
Michael rolls his eyes before slumping back down beside him and picking his
bowl still full of probably cold pasta to place it on his lap. "Oh, speaking of
coming out...you haven't already have you?"
Harry bites his lip, shaking no.
"Why not?" Michael flips a brow.
Harry sighs loudly, running a hand through his hair before placing both palm on
his pair of knees.
"I'm not ready yet." He shrugs, keeping Michael's contact. "But my family is
completely acquainted by it so other's knowing isn't really necessary." He
assures.
"Well, does anybody else know? Outside your family?"
"Yeah, a girl."
"Is she the one you were texting in class?" Michael recalls the scene.
"Yeah."
"Why her?" Michael questions.
"Because I trust her." Harry says simply.
"Okay well, anyone else?" Michael asks.
Harry pauses. It's like he's meant to say that one person's name, the way
Michael's pressuring him makes his stomach twist and tangle.
But as he agrees he's already gave away all of his personal information, he
thinks why the heck would I not give away another one.
"Yeah, just someone else."
Michael tilts his head, "who?"
Harry pulls his lips in, scraping his teeth over his already chapped lips.
"L-Louis." Harry answers, sighing through his nose as some sort of lift has
been released from his shoulders.
Michael smirks a little mischievously, but the smirk appears as a somewhat warm
smile within seconds.
"Hm," Michael hums. "You're scared aren't you?"
"Why would I be scared?" Harry shakes his head, few short strands of hair from
his fringe falling on his eyes.
"Well," Michael drags on, tangling his feet onto each other, and hoping the
change of topic would succeed. "maybe if you would come out, people would judge
you. And you're scared of that.
Harry pauses for a second before saying, "you're right, I am afraid. The whole
entire Beacon knows me and trust me it isn't for mighty reasons. If anyone
found out, I'd be dead. River and'm would chop my limbs." Harry says, afraid
already for these stuff to ever happen one day.
Michael laughs, "chop your limbs? I'm guessing you watch too many massacre.
But, who's this River? Couple of girls were talking about him in the
corridors."
Harry winces, "you don't even wanna know." But he explains anyway, "River's a
psycho, living breathing homophobic, rude, not making sense at all at anytime,
always picking up fights, abusive...and 'm sure I hate him with all my heart."
Knowing where this conversation would lead to, Harry tries hard to be brave and
let his thoughts pour in front of the other boy. Sure, Harry doesn't know him.
It's been a day they've met for God's sakes, but the curly boy feels this tiny
bit of connection, a warm light feeling inside him when Michael asks these
questions. He doesn't feel the stiffness or the uncomfortable feeling the
other's at school bring him, and Harry guesses this is a good sign to maybe let
Michael enter his life.
Michael doesn't respond, allowing a silence between the boys. Harry doesn't
question whether to speak again, "you asked about Louis," Michael's head beams
up, eyes widening with curiosity. "Louis, he's-"
Michael groans softly. "Harry, y'don't have to explain me things. I just wanted
to get to know you a bit better, I don't wanna know your damn dark secrets and
shit, don't want you to feel forced." Michael lifts the corner, quirking a
crooked smile.
Harry leaves an open mouth smile, sighing through it before nodding and feeding
himself a forkful of pasta.
Chewing on it, he feels his heart synch down with glad that Michael isn't some
desperate knob, all about wanting answers to questions.
"But, there's a piece of pasta on your lip." Michael points to the corner of
Harry's mouth, quickly zoning Harry out of his mind.
"Huh," Harry asks, knowing how dumb he's actually sounded.
Michael chuckles once, "pasta..." He lifts his finger to point again, "on your
lip." He watches as Harry quickly tries to look down below his nose, as if it'd
work.
Dropping the fork inside of his half finished bowl, he scratches the corner and
frowns as Michael shakes his head to indicate the piece of pasta is still
placed on his lip.
"Gone?" Harry asks, licking a stripe of the corner of his lip thinking it'd
come off.
Michael smiles badgeringly, and shakes his head, "nope."
As he notices Harry struggling to vanish a simple piece of pasta from his lip,
he second thinks a thought in his mind and before he knows, he's slowly leaning
into Harry, eyes darting to the little piece of pasta on Harry's lip.
Harry stops his movement, staring at Michael who's picked his thumb up in the
air and reaching Harry's mouth. Slowly and delicately, Michael brushes his
thumb over the corner of Harry's lip. He looks down at Michael who's now
sitting dangerously close to him, literally no gap between the boys. Michael
looks back, eyes meeting Harry's nervous sparkling ones. The room's gone thick
silent, just two warm bodies next to each other completely aware of what might
happen if any of the boys would even flinch. Harry's allowing even breaths
through his sudden parted lips, each breath ghosting over Michael's lips ever
so beautifully and it only makes him want to claim the other boy's lips more.
There's just one problem, being this close to eachother, they're staring way
too much. Michael wants Harry's lips. Michael wants to feel every bit of it, he
wants to run his tongue over Harry's pink, heart shaped lips. The way they seem
so intimidating and delicious on display. Michael's growing furious by how
Harry isn't even jerking back or breaking the contact. Michael expects to be
met with his mesmerising green eyes but they're focused so shamelessly on his
lips as well. Michael's eyes then flicks to Harry's, as if looking for a sign
of reassurance, in a way asking if it was okay to kiss him. Harry doesn't
respond, just sits stiff next to him a blank expression. Michael would've
thought was possible, and that's when he felt Harry's chest moving up and down
quickly but subtly and he could basically feel how nervous he is- but his
nervousness makes him comfortable.
Michael's eyes then flicker down to Harry's mouth and it's all the incentive
Harry needs to lean forward and close the distance between them.
No longer wasting another second, Michael grasps the nape of Harry's neck, and
leans in, attaching the two pairs.
The kiss is gentle, just a meeting of lips, but Harry's heart threatens to beat
right out of his chest. Its not like he planned on doing this. At all. But now
it's happened and he can't take it back.
Michael stiffens slightly beneath his mouth, but only for a few seconds before
he relaxes, hands loosening on Harry's head and then tightening again, pulling
him in closer. A small gasp falls from Harry's lips when he feels the gentle
slide of Michael's tongue against his own. It's tentative, unsure, but it makes
Harry's heart rabbit in his chest. It's the first time he's ever been kissed by
another boy like this in his life and all Michael can do is just hold on
tighter to Harry, take everything the boy could to give him and try not to
think about the implications, try not to wonder if this is something that's
been building for both of them and not just for him. Michael's teeth sink into
Harry's bottom lip and he hears Harry keen gently, his eyes fluttering open.
And then there's a bell echoing the house loud enough to jar the two boys
apart. Harry pulls back, getting on his feet and walking away from him quickly,
leaving him wobbling on weak knees, every sense unfocused. Michael smiles
unsurely at him whilst Harry just stares blankly back at him, hand covering his
own mouth. Michael's expression is unreadable but Harry's mind is racing too
quickly to try and understand what it means.
"D-door bell, s-someone rang," Harry stammers pointing towards the closed
window on the side of the room. Harry pushes his hands through his hair. He
looks...almost panicked.
Michael investigates Harry's body with confused eyes, trying to put out a
respond. As the bell rings a few more times, he sees Harry bite the back of his
crooked finger, Michael thinks he better check the door before Harry passes out
any second.
Grudgingly, he gets up from his knees and jogs his way down the stairs having
Harry follow him with lighter and shaky steps.
Michael picks up a blurred body through the glassy door, as he turns on the
lights in the corridors. Getting curious about who would he here at his much
hidden house at almost midnight, he walks faster towards the door and opens it
with a twist of the doorknob.
Michael's brows knit together immediately, hand not leaving the knob. The boy
standing in front of him, almost looking knackered by the scruffy hair and the
skinny torn trousers and the worn tank top.
"Yeah?" He asks, recognising the kid from class, as Harry's Louis and
immediately wondering where the fuck he got his address.
Louis slips his hands into his pockets, eyes leaving Michael's and meeting a
pair of dimmed green ones just past Michael's shoulder.
Harry makes his way beside Michael, shaking his sudden wild hair which Louis
immediately catches the attention of.
When he's finally facing Louis tall in front of him, Harry's eyes immediately
clench, turning into a glare.
Louis would laugh at Harry's immediate reaction. The curly boy must hate him so
much, Louis thinks from his drunken mind.
"Hi, Harry." Louis smiles sheepishly, waving at him with a big bottle of beer
held loose in his hand.
Harry shuffles awkwardly on his feet, looking between Michael and Louis
nervously.
"Hey."
Michael shakes his head, eyes searching Harry's and wanting to know what's
going on, or might go on.
Harry shrugs, nose already squirming at the intense smell of alcohol coming
from Louis' body.
"Can I help you?" Michael quirks a brow, growing impatient and irritated by
Louis' horrible state in front of him.
Louis' sparkling eyes quickly narrow down. "Yeah, why don't you try staying
away from Harry?" He nods Harry's direction earning wide eyes from the boy.
Michael's lips fall apart as a playful smile forms on his mouth. "You want me
to stay away from Harry?" He repeats, feet changing its position, his tone so
amused.
Louis nods, scratching the top of his head before swinging the beer to his
mouth and taking a long gulp from it.
"Oh get out, you're wasted." Michael gently pushes him a few steps away from
the porch.
As an immediate response Harry grabs Michael's wrists, stopping him from
pushing Louis further.
Michael raises a brow at Harry's protectiveness, but loosens his grip on Louis
before he even jerks his hands backward himself.
"Don't touch me," Louis spits. He would go on but the low, rasp of Harry's
voice makes him pause.
"Louis, please go...you're drunk. Go before you cause anything." Harry
literally begs, holding both of Louis' arms.
Louis' so mesmerised and caught in Harry's blazed dark green eyes. It's like
it's almost taking the numb the three bottles of beer he took down, all away.
Their eyes stay put together, face a few inches away. It feels beautiful and
relaxing, something both boys could finally agree to.
"Hey," Michael snaps between them, "Harry let him go, he's literally reeking."
The words almost make Harry's heart sob. The fact that he has to let go, the
fact that he'll never be able to hold him as long as he wants, it all makes his
body want to shrink all the way until he's fully disappeared.
Slowly unclenching his hands on Louis' bare arms, he takes backward steps
beside Michael inside the house.
"Harry, I wanna talk." Louis shoves the bottle back into his mouth before
dragging it away, "we have to talk." He repeats, licking lazily a few drips of
beer from the corner of his mouth.
Harry bites back an 'okay' in his throat, he bites back all the yeses and
agreements.
"Well he clearly doesn't want to talk." Michael responds for Harry, "do you
Harry?" Looking at the boy, he shake his head for a 'no' but Harry
unfortunately stays put and unsure.
"He's got his own mouth yeah?" Louis glares at Michael and only receives it
back.
"Can you piss off mate? I'm gonna call the cops if y-"
Before he could finish, Harry grasps Michael's biceps, shaking his head,
telling him 'no'.
"Louis please go," Harry says almost murmuring, turning his gaze on the
oblivious boy.
"See," Michael gestures his hand at Harry. "Doesn't.want.you.here." He says it
slow like he's communication with a child.
Though it only makes Louis' frustration increase. "Doesn't want me here?" He
asks bitterly. "You really think so?" He drags on looking at Michael with one
last stare before surging forward then, grasping the back of Harry's head and
claiming his mouth roughly.
Harry takes him in instantly, threading his fingers through Louis' hair and
pulling him closer even though it's not really possible. Louis pushes his
tongue into Harry's mouth, taking and taking and taking until Harry is dizzy
with it, heart soaring. Harry's whole body freezes in a sudden and Louis feels
hands roughly pushing at his shoulders. 
 
"Lou...no..." Harry murmurs out, running his tongue over Louis' lips as he
pushes against his shoulders, not enough to hurt him, but enough to cause him
to stagger back a few steps.
He runs his thumb along his own lips and takes a deep breath. "I think you
should go home..." He speaks to Louis, immediately realizing that he won't be
able to make it home safely, he isn't even sure how the older boy had made it
there.
Harry thinks for a few moments and turns to Michael. "Im going to take him
home, I cant let him drive like this, or walk." He clears before moving away
and sliding his shoes on. Michael scoffs loudly and crosses his arms over his
chest, protesting.
"But that's not even fair, what about the project we were working on? And you
were going to sleepover, we could just hang out. Just let him go." He whines
out, sounding like a child.
Harry just ignores him, simply shaking his head. "No, I cant. If I let him go
and something happens I'll always feel guilty and hate myself. Sorry..." He
replies not much sincerely.
Turning to Louis and managing to tug the bottle from his hands he sets it on
the nearest table on the porch.
Louis leans into Harry, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and shooting
Michael a smug look.
"Lus like he's comin' home wi'me..." He slurrs out, smirking the whole way out.
He stumbles a lot and leans into Harry, and after some struggle Harry places
him into the passenger seat and gets into the driver's seat of the car himself,
starting the journey home.
He drives in silence, trying to think of the right thing to say, but unable to
form the words in his mouth. After a while he hears Louis from the passenger
seat murmuring things, groaning to himself, and Harry turns his head to speak
to him.
"What?" He questions, Louis just shifts in his seat, smiling at Harry.
Louis leans over and runs his finger lazily down Harry's cheek.
"You're really rrrreeaally hot." He slurs out and Harry frowns, shaking his
head.
Louis frowns back, tried to sit forward some more in his seat before getting
pulled back by the seatbelt. He goes on a drunken rambling that Harry only half
understands, because of the amount of alcohol that Louis had consumed prior.
But in the long speech Louis gives, Harry manages to catch the phrases 'I'm
sorry' ' 'I suck' 'I messed up' and something that sounds suspiciously close to
having feelings for Harry but Harry refuses to believe that Louis would say
that. Drunk or not.
"Why are you doing this?..." He murmurs towards Louis, but then remembers
something he had heard a while ago.
'Drunken words are sober thoughts'. Harry ponders over it for moment. Were
these honest things that Louis thought but just managed to say only when
completely drunk?
He manages to make it to Louis' house without acknowledging Louis' drunken
mostly nonsensical ramblings and gets him inside by the keys inside Louis'
pant's pockets.
Louis leans close into Harry as he struggles to get tug the heavy weight up the
steps and to the bedroom. He gets Louis in and to the bed. Where Louis dropped
himself down onto it, rolling to his back. Harry just sighs and pulls off the
drunken boys shoes, dropping them on the floor with a thud. He pulls the
blanket up over Louis, having full intentions to just turn and leave after
that, but completely unexpectedly, Louis reaches out and grabs Harry's wrist,
not hard but enough to attain the curly haired boys attention.
"Stay..." Louis whines out, face begging him.
Harry bites his inner lip and considers the consequences for a few moments
before Louis adds in a sad sounding 'please', and Harry caves. He nods and
slips off his own shoes, sliding into the bed, being pulled immediately against
Louis, who just holds him closer and buries his face into Harry's curls,
falling asleep almost immediately. Harry falls into a deep comfortable sleep,
in a bed he never would've thought he would be asked to sleep in.
He wakes to the lights being flicked on and the door slamming open against the
wall as someone enters, takes in the sight on the bed of Louis asleep on his
back, arm tightly around Harry who just grips to his side, head on his chest
and leg resting over Louis. A voice yells and causes them both to stir awake.
"What in the hell?"
 
__________



Without a knock or any sort of warning, there's a ticking sound and the door of
Louis' room swoons open to a boy who looks like has just seen a person grow two
heads.

"What in the hell..." His eyes are blown wide, mouth fallen apart with a
knapsack falling out of his hand and hitting the floor with a thud.

The noise only causes the curly haired boy to stir to his side and squint his
eyes to the light peeking out of the corner of the curtains right beside him.

Seeming as there's a body standing behind, Harry pushes his body up only to
meet his eyes with big brown ones then collapse back on the bed, his hand
lazily covering his eyes in such shame.

Though, Louis is still knackered beside him, laying on his tummy, his cheek
pressed against the soft fabric of a white pillow.

Harry digs his nails into his forehead with force and embaressement. As then he
feels a dent on the bed. Slowly parting his fingers on his eyes to peek, Harry
almost feels his heart stop when there's a face right on top of him staring at
him with confused and horrid eyes.

The unknown mysterious yet really creepy guy picks Harry's hand out of his
eyes, and throws it on his chest. 

"Who are you?" The unknown name makes a face, between horrified and
yeah, definitely horrified.

Harry pulls his bottom lip in, biting on it with no care as there's a face
hovering above him and an oblivious, out of the world Louis Tomlinson laying
just beside. 

"H-Harry." the words come out trembled and shaky with a questioning tone for no
particular reason.

The boy furrows his brows, eyeing Harry's face, then chest then back his face.
"Yeah." And that is all he says.

Moving back, he stands just a few steps away from Louis' bed still carrying an
astounded mask.

Harry slowly slides himself up on his bum into a sitting position, awkwardly
looking back at the stranger.

"Okay, Harry...My intentions aren't really to freak you out right now, I'm
already freaked out myself...Christ, what exactly are you doing in Louis' bed?"

Harry feels the usual shake in his palm and his heart beating uncontrollably
out of speed. "N-nothing," he licks his lips, shaking his head, "I, I should, I
have to go." He breaks his contact with the boy, and lifts the white sheets off
of his lap to step out and leave Louis back in the bed, completely aware of the
scene.

"Mate-" and before the boy could even attempt to say anything Harry's already
picked up his phone and converse, and politely shutting the door behind him,
trying his best to get out of the house as quick as he can.

On the way walking back home, or hoping to walk back home, a really quiet
whimper escapes just underneath Harry's breath and it feels like a cue to take
his phone out of his pocket and text his friend of pure kindness and care,
"Help" with endless exclamation marks included.

Not more than ten minutes later, a bright red car curves around the corner,
stopping beside the pavement. Harry jumps in the passenger seat gladly to open
his heart out to his friend, Erin.



* * * 


No longer having patience, and a few minutes worth of realising that his dozed
friend will not be waking up any time soon, the tan, dressed in all black, ink
covering almost all of his skin and carrying piercings in both ears, the boy
walks into Louis' bathroom with a smug look on his face that quite seems like
it needs proper shaving. Spotting a plastic vase, he dumps out the flower on
the counter and fills the vase halfway with cold water and walks back to Louis.

"Loueh," says his name differently due to his accent of his own. "You get up,
or I'm not giving shit about your wasted ass and dumping this on your head." He
says simply, shaking Louis' shoulder. "Y'hear me?"

Receiving just a soft groan but not much movement, the boy does not care about
the circumstances he is going to get after his actions and just simply shrugs,
dumping the entire vase on his friend's head, soaking the sheets and the duvet
and the back of his friends tank top.

Shuddering Louis curses in his sleep and once he feels a drop on his eyelash,
he gets up in a millisecond, "what the fuck?" 

"Morning, princess." The boys gives a hand to Louis, making him sit up on his
bum.

"Christ Zayn! Don't ever try that shit ever again," Louis slaps his own temple
with the pad of his palm, receiving a killer headache.

"Well, you weren't waking up and I got bored. You know, watching you snore
isn't the funnest thing ever. By the way mate, when I walk into your room I
usually expect to see a girl in your bed, not a fucking bloke. Are you hiding
something from me? Your best mate?" Zayn shakes his head, with a smug look as
Louis' eyes clench into a thin line, still smacking his head but slower this
time.

"What are you bullshitting Zayn," he asks softly, as he stands up from his bed,
walking towards his bathroom almost tripping on his feet.

Zayn notices that, but doesn't bother lending a hand and just flops on Louis'
red, spinning chair.

"Am not bullshitting Lou. Am just telling you what I saw." Zayn shrugs as
Louis' made into his bathroom and lazily unbuttoning his trousers to do his
business. Having the bathroom's door open, he hears Zayn's response perfectly
clear but doesn't react as the massive hangover he has is his only worry at the
minute.

"The hair and the green eyes didn't seem much familiar."

As he pulls his zipper back up, and buttons his pants, the words repeat in
Louis' mind, making him grab onto the sink's counter and rethink about Zayn's
statement.

The hair and the green eyes. The hair and the green eyes. The hair and the
green eyes...

Louis gasps lightly, grabbing onto his fringe with his other hand and tucking
onto it hard but regretting it the next second as it only makes his headache
more painful.

Just tiny bit of scenes from the night before appear in his mind, a glimpse of
himself at a bar, music and bright neon lights bouncing corner to corner, then
a creep of a house, and Michael the new kid continuously pushing and yelling at
him, then Harry. Just Harry's eyes staring into Louis' and he's also there with
Michael. 

Clenching his eyes tight, Louis slowly massages his forehead, helplessy hoping
to remember more from what happened the previous night. Just as he picks up his
focus a voice echoes the bathroom making Louis stumble on his feet backwards.

"Lou, what the fuck are you doing? Are you pulling some next Raven Baxter shit
on me dude?"

Louis glares at Zayn's words, "piss off Zayn," he murmurs, picking a tooth
brush and spreading the paste over it.



* * *


"Seriously, I seen this weird creep in your bed and when I asked him who he was
all he said was something like," Zayn looks into a distance, "Harry? I think he
said Harry...I dunno."

Louis swallows on the painkiller bitterly, trying to avoid the questions coming
from this childhood friend of his.

"And when I asked him what the hell he's doing in your bed, and I was pretty
whipped too I mean s'not like walking into you with another guy happens
everyday, so he just picked up his shit and said he he had to go and pretty
much left after that." Zayn nods, digging his hand into his jackets inside
picket and taking out a packet of cigarettes.

Louis just watches his friend from the corner of the couch, examining the smoke
curling out between his parted lips.

"Lou," Zayn mutters before taking a long drag, "you gonna tell me why you look
like you're about to piss yourself mate?" He chuckles softly, a faint smile on
his lips as he brings the cigarette back between his lips, sucking another
drag.

"Zayn, we're really close right?" Louis asks, his tone out of the blue and he'd
wait for Zayn's response but seeming as he's too into the pleasure from the
cigarette between his fingers, Louis just goes on. "Like, I know you left for a
few months but-"

Then his friend smiles between a short drag, moving the smoke out of his lips,
a teasing curve of his brow. "Yeah, few months Lou, not for a lifetime. I was
gonna make it next month but then I thought, nahh I miss my Lou too much." He
bats his lashes at Louis earning a direct pillow in his face. 

Zayn gasps, looking between the pillow on the floor and Louis' eyes. "You
fucker, that almost landed on the smoke! You could've almost burned the whole
house, we could've died Lou! We could've died without me having sex after two
weeks!" Zayn says dramatically as Louis rolls his eyes but can't contain a lazy
giggle around throat either.

"You're a bitch," Louis glares at him who only wiggles his brows and takes
another drag before throwing the short cigarette into an astray on the coffee
table. 

Zayn sits up on the couch, clearing his throat and leaning his elbows on his
knees, resting his chin in his palm. "Where did that even come from?" 

Louis knows what Zayn means, he sure knows that he doesn't mean the flying
pillow. But the thing is, he also does not know where it came from. He asked a
question yeah, but sometimes, Louis tries to convince himself, people ask
questions before even thinking whether it'd come out wrong, or create unwanted
impacts and Louis decides he should really think before responding this time.

"Why are you thinking Lou, God, just respond." Zayn makes a face that's
definitely mocking Louis' way of using his brain when it'd be responding
immediately.

The caramel haired boy sighs heavily, rubbing his hands up and down his face
before looking up at Zayn's questioning eyes.

"Come sit," Louis tells, gesturing the empty space on the couch next to him.

Zayn stares bunglingly, pile of questions gathering more in his head. Biting on
his bottom lip, he picks himself up from the armchair and walks across the
room.

Taking a seat, and huffing out, he looks to his side, "yeah?" 

Louis stares.

"Louis." Zayn nudges him, grabbing a hold of Louis' bare shoulder.

"I want to tell you," Louis says softly, lifting his gaze and staring into his
friends wide, brown ones. "I want to, but. You don't-," Louis sighs tiredly,
dropping his eyes down to his lap, looking at the ripped fabric on his jeans.
"You won't understand," he looks back at Zayn, searching his eyes for any kind
of support. 

Zayn is confused, but the worry building in his mind is what really makes him
want to shake Louis' shoulders to spill the words Louis's been stubborn to
reveal.

But his body feels heavy and exhausted so he waits, waits for his friend to
maybe answer the question marks in his mind.

Louis scratches his forehead, the nervousness taking over his fingers making
them feel buzzy. He rests his hand on Zayn's knee then, noticing the drop of
his face. "Don't, like, take it the wrong way. It's just, I dunno. I don't even
know what I have to say, or what I should say and you know what Zayn? Maybe I
need some treatment."

Zayn's lips part for the first time, his face as if it cannot get any clueless.

"What are talking about?" Zayn asks, a proper combination of both mocking and
derisive in his tone. "What's gotten into you man? I only left for five months,
what the fuck happened to the Louis I know? Why are we here having this creepy,
weird ass conversation? We should be out right now, having me a welcome back
special! I should be getting me some hot blonde to ruin tonight, Lou! You're a
proper twat, what are you trying to do?" Zayn stands up from his seat, leaving
his hands wide open in the air, ignoring the way Louis looks so tender and
defenceless, only staring back at Zayn.

Shrugging is all he does.

The thing is, Louis does feel the need of every single thing Zayn's said. He
knows he needs a break. A break from thinking so much, worrying so much, hiding
so much, and Louis just needs a break from Harry. Because it's him who caused
Louis all this, it's him why Louis feels so fucking exhausted and it's him why
Louis wants to say no to Zayn, and that he'd rather stay in his quite home and
watch one of those late night hockey games and then Zayn would say you don't
even watch hockey, and Louis would be even more depressed. 

"Fine," Louis grumbles, forcing himself up, "fine," he whispers under his
breath, and walks by Zayn, not missing the stretchy smug look on his face.


* * * 


Zayn's convincing words are how they end up shoving their fake ID's at the shit
security and dragging their feet to greet their friends and celebrate a boy's
birthday, Louis is not quite sure he knows the name of.

It's Friday and it's busy. The club is bursting at the seams with students
looking to get shitfaced because they don't have classes the other day,
beautiful boys in low-riding jeans and a few gaggles of girls, crowded around
Louis and Zayn at the bar while they take down their shots. 

Zayn makes a sign with his hands that he'll be back, he's just going to greet
the DJ and maybe request a song. Louis nods, knowing Zayn loves that part of
being at a club or a bar. It's always nice for Louis too, to watch his friend
jump up with the huge, neon headphones around his head, always share glances
with him. 

Louis mouths "Rihanna" at Zayn, who rolls his eyes but queues it up
nonetheless. Louis always wants to dance to Rihanna. Zayn plays a remix version
of "We found love" and Louis goes back to taking another one of his combination
of beer and coke. He's not determined to get drunk tonight, just meaning to
take his mind off things and enjoy the surface of the club and the loud beat to
one of his favourite music.

Time speeds up like that, Louis lazily swallowing down drinks and cancelling
many offers to dancing with random girls and probably getting in their pants
later on in the night. Louis is sure some were from school, he's just never
been too caring to find out their names.

Every time he'd shake his head for a no at a random, desperate girl, Zayn would
throw him the bird or the 'seriously?' look and Louis would just shrug and
swallow down another glass.

River, obviously, also arrives with a total new impression of 'give me your
attention everybody.' He winks over a couple of girls on the dance floor, with
his Raybans sitting on his head, white scoop-neck shirt tight around his built
torso and fitted jeans hanging below his waste.

He shoots a look over Louis' way, telling him he'd see him in a minute and
Louis turns back in front of the bartender, not very amused to see River, for
no particular reason yet.

Few minutes later, Louis looks over his shoulder to respond to the smack he's
received on his shoulder.

"Hey man," River raises his brows, removing his shades and hanging them on the
scoop of his neck.

"Hi." Is all Louis says, feeling just a bit uncomfortable by the way River
takes his seat on the stool next to him, calling out tequila for his first
shot.

River elbows Louis, with the little glass in his hand, "I see your cousin's
back." 

Louis nods, looking at Zayn who untangles the headphones over his neck. Resting
them by the DJ, he shares a manly hug with him then walks back over to Louis
with a big smile.

He stand between Louis and River, peeking at Louis' halfway finished glass.
"You drunk yet?"

Louis holds back a snort, "nope. Not planning it yet either."

Zayn looks over to River, pounding fists and half hugging him. Chatting for a
few minutes obviously feels enough for Zayn who calls off the conversation and
heads for the dance floor, River following by.

Louis says he'll join them but, he doesn't. Taking two more drinks of his coke
combined drink and a whiskey to finish it, he grabs his coat and walks out of
the club, not bothering to assure Zayn in any sort of way.

It's quite cold outside, but the wind feels somewhat impecunious and adequate
on his body and he's shivering really, but he doesn't mind. The alcohol has not
really taken control of his body, as long as he's still walking on the sidewalk
without tripping, Louis is good.

It's dark out and the last time Louis checked his phone was back at the club
when his iPhone read 9:47 in big bright numbers.

He tucks his hands deep into his pockets, not aware that if he'd dig any
further they'd start forming holes.

It's just that whatever Louis does, he can never stop thinking about him. He's
trying, so so hard. But it's like his body is always betraying him. Louis did
want to, he did try to take one of the girl's hand and drag her on the dance
floor. Though, his body is constantly betraying him. His mind is definitely
under Louis' control, but his body...not so much. He pressed the girl hard
against himself, he even whispered things the girl probably never imagined
she'd hear before, for goodness sakes. But the second he took her cheeks in his
hand, dived in for a messy kiss, he couldn't control but jerk back like their
lips had some sort of opposite electricity attraction. It felt wrong, and weird
and wrong. He apologised and took his seat back on the stool. The word "why"
repeating in his mind like it was on infinite repeat.

Exactly that's why Louis ends up walking down Doncaster's late night streets,
because he just can't figure out what he wants. 

He has not forgotten about what Zayn's said in the morning. Something about
walking into Harry and him sleeping on the same bed. Louis wishes he did, but
these days he can't seem to be forgetting anything about Harry. Damn, Harry...

As Louis is too into his thoughts, his feet being the only thing awake and
walking him, he doesn't realise it until he makes an oof noise.

"Sorry, better watch where you're going sweetheart." Comes from a boy
who's accidentally brushed into Louis and now walking away with a stupid smirk
and a cheeky wink.

What, is all Louis thinks before noticing how dumb he probably looks just
staring at a guy's back, frozen on his feet.

So he turns back around with even more question marks piled in his mind. Just
taking a few steps is all it takes for him to notice by his side; a large glass
window and inside is empty stools across a bartender table, red Scarlett walls,
and what seems like no music coming out of the building and it
looks comforting. 

Louis opens the matching glass door and enters in, immediately meeting warm air
on his goose-bump coated body. 

He notices the empty bartender table, so he keeps his mouth shut and quietly
takes his seat on the high stools. Crossing his arms over the table in front of
him, he taps his nails softly to the light music coming from somewhere in the
bar.

Just as Louis digs his hand into his jacket's pocket to fetch his phone until a
bartender makes an appearance, the bartender makes an appearance. 

Louis immediately removes his hand from his pocket and meets it with his other
hand on the table, raising his gaze at the bartender. 

"I'm closing up mate," is what the man that looks not much older than Louis
says, wiping glasses with a rag. 

He's slim, with brownish big hair and matching big brown eyes

"Can't I have one drink? Please?' Louis begs, moving upwards the bar table.

"Alright," he agrees, "you can have one drink, but then you have to clear out."

Smiling gratefully, Louis mumbles that he wants a bourbon and coke. 

The other man sets about preparing the drink and watches absentmindedly.

"Argued with your boyfriend?" He asks, placing the drink on the bar and picking
up his rag to continue wiping.

"What makes you think that?" Louis asks slowly.

"You've got the same expression as half the other guys who come in here every
night." He explains. "You look like something's broken you."

"I actually meant why you would think I have a boyfriend..." Louis says, not
responding to the bartender's observations.

"Well, this is a gay bar for starters. We don't get many straight boys in
here." He states with a smile. 

Louis glances around and spots the things he hasn't seen before at any bar he's
been to- photos of men kissing on the pin boards, the lounge on the left
decorated with purple walls and red leather couches. It isn't what he expected
from a gay bar, but it had its touches.

"Oh. Well you should have a sign or something, to let people know that." Louis
suggests.

"There's one to the left of the entrance. Right where you walked in." The
bartender laughs. 

He walks to the other end of the bar and moves things Louis can't really see,
around before coming back. "So did you?"

"Did I what?" Louis asks, the man's voice snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Did you have a fight with your boyfriend?" He repeates.

"No. I don't have a boyfriend. I'm alone." Louis says with a frown, he wants to
scream out that he's straight so badly but now that he's sitting on a stool in
a fucking gay bar, he thinks being polite is the best option unless he wants
his half-drunk ass to get beaten up or whatever. 

Silence fills the bar again, broken occasionally by the chink of clean glasses.
After a few minutes Louis downs the last of his drink and sighs. 

He has no excuse to stay. He has to go back home. He takes his wallet out to
pay, but the other man waves him away.

"Don't worry about it, you look like you needed it." He says, smiling kindly.

"I did, thank you." Louis nods and returns the smile. "I'm Louis by the way."

"Louis, good lad. I'm Nick." He smirks for second, before disappearing into the
back.

"Nice to meet you Nick." Louis says in a hushed tone to the empty bar before
walking out onto the cold street.



* * * 


The next day 11:08AM

Harry and Erin are both sat down on Harry's couch, Harry still clothed in his
pyjama bottoms and a thin white shirt supporting his top. His hair needs a
comb, it's thrown to the side lazily as he's just woke up to his friend Nick's
phone call telling him he's got load of shit to tell and he should have Erin
also over.

So that's what Harry did; got off the phone with Nick, dialled Erin's number,
and called her over in a quiet tone so he doesn't wake his older sister up. 

Erin nagged saying it's only Saturday and why she had to do this so early and
Harry apologised, telling her she didn't, which made Erin's heart sink with
guilt and that's exactly why she's sitting down, asking questions like what
could be so important that she'd have to be here so damn early on a weekend. 

"I dunno, we just-" The door bell rings once, and both of the teens stand up
from their seats, Harry opening the door before another bell goes on and next
thing you know Gemma is up, eating out Harry's brain with questions probably
more annoying than Erin's. It's too early for this type of thing, Harry thinks.

"Hey lads." Nick greets walking in between Harry and Erin.

"I'm a girl," Erin mutters and she's sure Nick heard that but he's just
avoiding.

Harry follows Nick into the living room, eyes him as he hovers the couch
across. Before he starts questioning, he remembers, "Erin, I've spoke to you
about Nick before. Nick, this is my friend Erin who I've also spoke
to you before. " He introduces as both of his friends share a lazy nod and a
quick smile.

"So, what did you wanna say?" Harry takes his own seat on the arm chair, Erin
choosing to stand tall on her feet by the entrance.

A simper crosses Nick's face before he smacks his lips and leans forward. "He
came." 

Harry's brows knitting together, he looks between Erin and Nick before giving
the older man a look that reads nothing but, who came?

"Him. You know. Your boy, Louis." Nick smiles wider at Harry's confusion, which
Nick, himself finds it as the luscious thing. 

Erin's lost, Harry isn't. 

"First, he isn't my boy. Second, what would Louis be doing at a gay bar?" Harry
say straight-faced, "Nick, be more specific could you?" Harry adds, this time
beg in his tone.

"Yeah, please." Erin also says.

"Well." Nick claps his hand, looking into a distance dramatically, "yesterday
was the date. I reckon it was around ten-"

"God, Nick! Can you just tell me whatever Louis was doing at the bar?" Harry
raises his voice slightly, but Erin quickly gestures with her hand, for him to
lower his tone unless he wanted Gemma down.

"Sorry, okay." Nick shakes his head, "Louis came in, had a drink and left." 

Harry glares, Nick is a proper arse. "Okay now, a little more details."

Nick's mouth drops, "details or no details? Make up your mind young Harold
because I quite have certain places to be." 

Harry swallows, shaking his head. "Okay, details please."

Nick sighs, starting all over again."The bar was empty and I actually had
thoughts about no one stepping inside anymore. I left to clean the back
kitchen, threw out the garbage and that's not very important. When I came
back, he was sat on a stool. I acted like I didn't know him and I think it went
pretty well. I also asked if he had a boyfriend-"

Harry's breathing stops. "Why would you say that?"

"Listen." Nick puts his hand in the air. "I asked, and he said he was alone. Do
you know what that means Harry? That he didn't deny being able to have a
boyfriend. He didn't say, no mate I'm actually straight. All he said was that
he was alone."

Harry almost shudders at the last word, "so," he swallows shakily, "w-what does
that mean?"

Nick sighs, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, Harry. You're so dumb sometimes!
It means he doesn't have a problem with being in a relationship with us, the
male species. He's fine with blokes, no problemo! Get it?" Nick drags on,
speaking almost word by word and it's actually meant to be mocking Harry but
Harry just feels so overwhelmed by Nick's words he doesn't even bother to get
offended.

"Harry?" Erin calls from behind, and Harry feels his beside on the couch dent. 

He gives a small shrug, because there isn't much to say. Nick's words in point
of fact make sense in such ways that it also has him adequately clueless.

"I think he'll come again." Nick nods, pulling Harry's eyes back onto him again
but with furrowed brows.

"What? What makes you think that?" The younger boy asks hoarsely, after so much
swallowing nothing but air.

"I dunno," Nick shrugs standing up from his seat before a clap on his knees. "I
just feel like he will. I'm gunna open up the bar. I'll let you know when
something happens." Nick leans into Harry, pressing a light kiss on his soft,
warm cheek before walking towards the door.

Harry scratches his hair sheepishly, walking behind Nick with Erin's hand
rubbing his shoulder soothingly. "Thanks," he murmurs.

Nick throws his jacket over his shoulders, turning around and smiling
generously. "No problem."

And he leaves with Erin following a few minutes later. It's only Harry who's
left behind and he's really so exhausted that collapsing on the couch is what
all he needs at the very moment.

Just when he feels his eyelids get heavy, he kindly allows his body to get into
a slumber, before his eyes flutter open to the annoying Marimba ringtone on his
iPhone.

And Harry should really change it to something less cringing soon. He should
also find that notebook of his under his bed but that's for later.

Reaching for his mobile right across from him on the coffee table, he turns the
phone over and the caller ID reads Michael.

Harry should answer, he should be polite. He's left the kid all alone with the
project for God sakes. But then the sleep in his eyes are so suddenly important
to him that throwing the phone back on the coffee table all too casually is
what he does next.


* * *

"I'm telling you, he's really here!" Nick whispers from the storage room to his
mobile pressed against his cheek, eyes darted at a short, little boy observing
his surroundings.


"That's just. I don't know, fine just fine. I'll be there. God, Nick please
don't lie to me." The voice whines through the line.

"Look kid. Believe me or not, your loss. If you really care, come and see it
yourself. I've gotta go." Nick hopes he doesn't sound like a prick, he really
wants to help him but Harry always worrying isn't helping at all and Nick isn't
a very patient person either.

The line disconnects and Nick shoves the phone into his apron's pocket, walking
out of the storage with a brand new beam in his face.

His footsteps catches the boy's attention and he smiles back immediately. 

Nick walks behind his counter, throwing a hand through his hair and ruffling
it.

"So Louis right?" Nick asks slyly.

Louis clears his his throat nodding on the stool. 

"What would you fancy for today?" He asks, turning around for the freezer and
snatching a jar of ice cubes and turning back around to Louis.

"I dunno," Louis unzips his maroon hoodie, resting it on the counter.
"Something sweet, mixed with coke." He shrugs.

Nick hums responsively, getting Louis' order done.

Nick bites on his bottom lip as he adds two ice cubes in Louis' tall glass.
"Not that I'm complaining but, what made you come back here?"

Resting Louis' glass in front of him, he notices Louis' unreacted face and
speaks again. "I mean, you didn't seem like you even knew about this place
until just yesterday." 

Louis pulls the glass out of his lips, nodding. "I know," is all he replies
before taking another sip. "It's the drink mate, nothing else."

Nick chuckles lightly, as he leans down the counter looking for a wet cloth.
Pulling one out, he stands back up again. Spreading the cloth over the counter,
he starts wiping the top until it's shiny clean.

He's acting calm really, but, where the fuck is Harry, is all he wants to
scream. 

It's then as if the God's and the angel's or whatever up there hear him because
a second later he lifts his gaze to meet a body standing tall just behind the
glass doors staring with wide eyes and a parted most likely dry mouth.

Harry drags his eyes onto Nick, quickly shaking his head, like the worried
teenager Nick always knew him as.

Nick then, looks at Louis who's just lazily picking up his glass and pressing
it against his lips.

Harry is still standing behind the doors, the look he's plastered on his face
whilst staring at Louis is literally so adorable and chimerical that Nick could
just drag Louis' body onto Harry's so they could just make out already.

But instead he simply yells, "Harry! Nice to see you here mate."

His loud tone practically wakes Louis up from his wavy, long thoughts and it
almost makes him jump from his seat.

Louis also brings his head towards the door and he literally has to brush his
fingers on his eyes because Harry is standing in front of him and fate must
really hate Louis.

"Harry?" He whispers under his breath, looking at the kid behind the doors in
so many different expressions.

Harry brings his hand on the freezing cold door handle, pushing it and stepping
into the bar, eyes not betraying Louis' for a proper second.

He doesn't take another step, just standing behind the closed door. 

"Sit down, Harry." A voice comes somewhere, and Harry isn't paying attention. 

Green eyes locked with bright blue ones, the silence is frightening both of the
boys. It's too silent, even though a voice somewhere in the room is rambling
over and over again, it's all too silent.

"W-what are you doing here?" Comes quiet from Louis.

Harry swallows in a slow matter, his jaw is so tense it makes the other boy
shudder.

This is the part where Nick comes in and survives him from these type of tricky
questions but Harry realises Nick's leaving this one to him so he answers on
his own. "Came for a drink."

Then Louis shakes his head for a second, "you can't, it's illegal." 

"So what, and you can?" Harry responds bitterly and it makes Louis' heart sink
because he doesn't want to fight, he doesn't want to argue. He's way too
exhausted for this, for another disappointment.

"Lads. Lads." Nick finally cuts in, half excitement in his tone. "Harry, why
don't you sit down and I'll get you a drink." 

Louis finally breaks their contact, turning around to Nick. "You guys know each
other?"

Nick smiles a little too fake, then nodding, "I've known Harry for a looong
time, we're really close. Almost connected." Nick says and Harry would really
ask why he's acting so stupid but he's too busy lowering his anger along with
his heavy coat behind his stool.

"Of course," Louis whispers to himself once again but Harry being sat so close
to him, obviously hears.

"Louis. Harry. I'm going to get some fresh vodka from upstairs, you guys enjoy
each other. Harry you can prepare your own drink, I'll be back." Then, he
dissapears to the end of the corridor leaving both of the boys in complete
silence.

Silence is meant to be peaceful and comforting but it really isn't. Harry feels
hot and could literally run to the nearest toilet and puke because all Louis is
doing is ticking something that sounds like his knuckle on the counter.

But then, "didn't know you drank," comes from his side and Louis is on Harry's
nerves again.

"You don't know anything about me." Harry argues back but sinks back into his
stool right after he realises how lame that sounded.

"I know that, I know that you have a crush on me." Louis finally turns his
head, having Harry's eye already on him. 

Harry's nostrils are flaring and he snarls. Fucking snarls. But he picks up the
cool attitude again, "and I know that behind the whole tough-boy look, you're
actually a proper coward."

The curly-haired boy thinks his words have finally hurt Louis in some ways but
then the boy laughs.

"Coward?" Louis asks between his quiet, lazy laughs, "coward." He confirms.
"Well, Harry I'm sorry but what exactly did you expect from me? That I would
just run unto your arms right after I've drunkenly kissed you? You need to
learn how to stop being selfish and-"

"I'm selfish?"

"Yeah, you are. You think it's always you, you, you. It's not. You never
considered my thoughts, and you still don't either. You didn't ask me how I
felt, you just expected me to feel the same way. Do you know how fucking sick
that sounds? Never in my life have I ever kissed a guy, and when I do, when
I drunkenly do," You weren't drunk in the bathroom louis, Harry wants to say.
"I'm not expected to fucking react to it. But let me ask you a question yeah?
How did you react when you first realised you were into blokes? You can't
possibly tell me you threw a party, or did you. You wou-"

"Louis?" Harry cuts him, fragile toned. "Did you. Are you, are you into me?" 

Louis swallows, looking back at Harry's beautiful face structure. He wants to
go ahead and shake his head, he wants to scream and mess this whole place
because he is. He's so fucking madly into him. No matter how much he denies, at
the end it is what it is. Louis Tomlinson has fallen and he can't deny. Not any
more.

"Louis, I need you to be honest with me, are you seriously. No you can't, I
don't believe y-"

He's is cut off by Louis practically jumping from his seat, hauling Harry by
the front of his jumper into a desperate kiss. Harry doesn't hesitate to kiss
back, almost like he's been anticipating Louis' loss of control. This suspicion
is cemented by the victorious little yes'es Louis hisses into Harry's mouth
when his lungs begin to cry mercy.

If Louis had thought that finally kissing Harry would bring some kind of
welcome relief to the sexual frustration that's been building since he first
set eyes on him, he's hilariously wrong. His back might be hurting from
hovering and his leg muscles are straining from the way he's leaning and trying
not to crush Harry into his seat, but all Louis can think of is the heat
emanating from Harry's skin, the softness of his lips, the scrape of his
fingers along his chest, and how it's still not enough.

Harry can't do much more than kiss back, although he fights tooth and nail
literally for control, and for a while they're merely gasping in quick breaths
between open mouths before pressing in harder, more frantically. It's messy and
wet and perfect, and Louis wants, wants so much more from his boy that he only
came out to for a few minutes.

"Couch," Louis says, voice low, and Harry quickly sits up, whilst Louis drags
him by his hand across the room and all but shoves him against the couch before
straddling his lap, fitting his perfect thighs around Harry. 

Their mouths find each other again instantly, lips fitting together easily, and
it's like Louis' hands can't keep still, clutching at Harry's shirt, then his
shoulders and neck and face. Harry holds Louis tightly to him by his waist,
which dips in at the sides ridiculously under the cotton of his jumper. It
makes his hands feel large and indelicate as they curve into half-moons, trying
to pull him closer, closer so their stomachs and chests align and their hearts
beat quick right through their skin and clothes. Louis licks into Harry's
mouth, tongues sliding against each other, and Louis is sweet like coke and
metallic like rain, and it's impossibly addicting, might just be the best thing
that Harry's ever tasted.

Now that he's finally touching him in the way he's been craving, Louis wants
everything. He turns his attention to Harry's neck, sucking briefly on his
pulse before sending hot open-mouthed kisses down his frantically bobbing
Adam's apple and into the dip of his shoulder, leaving marks that he can only
hope he'll be able to see in the sunlight. It causes Harry to squirm uneasily
under him, like this is just as overwhelming for him as it is for Louis - like
every touch between them is taking him one step closer to losing all breath.
He's making these sort of needy noises at the back of his throat that Louis can
feel vibrate under his mouth and tongue, like a cat purring from long-overdue
attention. Louis' arms work their way around his neck to tangle his fingers in
his curls, gripping the strands tightly and causing Harry to loose a moan into
the hollow of his collarbone. They kiss until they're out of breath, until
Louis' hands are shaking and Harry's pupils are blown wide. They kiss until
Louis' lips feel sore, until he pulls back and can just make out how red and
swollen Harry's are.

Until Louis starts feeling dizzy and Harry goes out of focus.

They kiss until their eyelids get heavy, their mouths moving slow against each
other. Louis must be heavy by now but Harry doesn't complain. Just keeps
kissing him. 

It's all too lovely until Harry pulls back, breathless and panting against
Louis' parted, sore lips. "You're so beautiful." 

Louis smiles down at him, all rosy-appled cheeks, and he's so beautiful, Harry
isn't even exaggerating.

"You feel the same way, and am not dreaming right Lou?"

Louis nods and kisses Harry's neck, and Harry can feel him smile at the shiver
it inspires. "I've never been so sure in my life," he agrees. He lifts his head
and meets Harry's eyes, tired and hopeful and wary all at once. "Can I kiss
you?"

"You're asking?" Harry wonders aloud. "Why are you asking?"

Louis huffs out an exasperated breath, headbutting Harry's jaw a bit. "I don't
know," he whines. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't want to do
something that makes you yell at me."

"I'm probably going to yell at you a lot," Harry admits. "You make me very
angry."

Louis pokes at Harry's side. "Will kissing make you very angry?"

"Probably not, no," Harry says. He almost manages to stay relaxed when Louis
does kiss him, only his shoulders and hands freezing up for those first few
moments.

He runs a hand down Harry's arms, his fingers trailing over the goosebumps that
rise on Harry's skin. His touch is gentler this time, nothing rough enough to
leave marks, his lips warm and careful against Harry's.

"Promise we're not going to mess this up," Harry says once they pull apart.
"Promise me."

Louis sighs, his hand a little firmer on Harry's back now, more sure that the
touch is welcome. "Can't promise that."

"Well, promise me something," Harry tells him. "Anything. I don't care what."

"I promise I won't blame it on my drunk self this time."

"Promise?"

"Promise," Louis repeats.



 
 
 
End Notes
     Okay guys this is my first boyxboy fanfic, I've never done something
     like this so cut me some slack. There'll probably more but that's all
     for now. I enjoyed writing it a lot, hope you enjoyed reading it as
     well :) Find me on twitter @coxynarry ! Take care xxx
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