Letters to the Author -Larry Stylinson

chapter thirteen

Don't let the storm slow you down, now honey, don't let the storm slow us down.

Louis placed his head on the steering wheel. Why did he come here so early? His flight didn't leave for another three hours. He turned up the volume on the radio, but it still didn't cover the sound of the rain pounding his windshield.

"Home," he whispered.

Pictures. There were pictures flashing through his mind, with unknown faces, unknown places, and unknown words spoken. But they were there, clouding his vision along with the tears that swayed back and forth underneath his eyelids, every blink pushing them past to trickle down his cheek. He bit his lip hardly, and that caused him to think of Harry. His soft, gentle lips just barely pushing into his, his forehead touching louis' with the perfect amount of pressure. He remembers how their noses brushed against each other, and how he held his breath until it was over.

He was holding his breath now. He released it, the sound disappearing into sound of droplets throwing themselves against the car, each one on its own path, somehow making it back to the lake, remembering where it belongs.

Where does he belong?

Louis shook his head, closing his eyes. "Here," he reminded himself.

He jumped when his phone rang in his pocket, letting out a sigh and pulling it out slowly. "Hello?"

"L-lou? I need help."

***

"How did this happen?" Louis asked softly, holding Harry's trembling hands. There was a gash on his wrist, and it was bleeding pretty badly.

"I was cutting, vegetables," Harry said quickly.

Louis quirked an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

Harry nodded quickly. "Yeah. Uhm, celery. I was hungry."

Louis looked down, gently pulling Harry's wrist under the running water. Harry winced a bit as the blood trickled down the sink, disappearing in streaks of red. "Well. Don't do that again."

He felt Harry staring at his face, and his cheeks burned. The ache he felt in his heart was so common now, he barely noticed it.

Louis unwrapped a band-aid after putting ointment across the cut, and he carefully pushed it onto Harry's wrist. "Are you not going anywhere for break?"

Harry shook his head sadly. "No, not exactly. I have a Twitcam thing I have to do in a few days, but other than that I was planning on staying home and watching movies, maybe writing a bit for my new book. I'm having a bit of writer's block on that, though."

"Drink your favourite French vanilla coffee. That might help." Louis commented without thinking, throwing the wrapper of the band-aid away before turning to the sink and washing his hands.

When Harry didn't respond, he turned around. Harry's eyes were wide, green and warm in the dim lighting of his bathroom.

"What?" Louis asked. "What'd I say?"

Harry just shook his head, biting his lip, and Louis suddenly had the urge to kiss him. But when he put his forehead against Harry's, closing his eyes, Harry pushed him away. "I need to be alone for a minute, Lou... I mean, Louis. I'm sorry."

"Wait! I have one question. Because I really need to know, like, right now."

Harry stopped and turned around. Louis thought he was beautiful. His broad shoulders, his tan chest and his skinny waist.

"What were you like when you were younger?"

Harry sighed. "I was in love." That's all he said before he walked out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, closing the door without a sound.