Take Me To Church

Chapter Four

Harrys' POV:

It's when the stars are out and the shadows are long that the fear creeps in.

The rain had settled down to a sprinkle but the wind is still shrieking through the small gap in my window. I tuck my blanket under my chin and sink into the mattress, eyes flicking around the dark room. I can see the shape of the branches outside in long silhouettes against my wall and skeleton like hands of the twigs grasping at the ghosts of my fears.

Louis is like a fire, a warmth that you can't help but want to get closer to, but if you go too far you get burned. An unstoppable force, dragging you towards him, and you keep going back for more. Whichever spirt possessed me to leave school today has a hold on me now and I don't know how to shake it.

When I kiss him there was a fog over my brain, a haze like veil that covers all my fears and all my anxiety, and suddenly I'm having my first kiss in a slow burn TV show with a build up over three seasons. There's something so invigorating about the way his hand clutched my waist in desperation. Something so intimate about his fingers running through my hair, his breath against my wet lips.

I descend deeper into the mattress with a whimper, wisps of trepidation curling around me like fog on a misty autumn morning. And it's not until I awake to a real cold autumn morning that I realise I'd fallen asleep.

I hear people bustling around downstairs, the smell of pancakes drifting through the gap under my bedroom door. I sit up slowly, letting the Saturday morning sink into each pore in my skin.

Leisurely allowing my toes to dig into the soft carpet on my bedroom floor and pad their way over to the window, I hold back a smile when I pass my desk, memories of Louis standing between my legs after pushing me carefully onto it, biting on my bottom lip, teasing me from the depths of my mind.

I blink away the evocations and slide open my window, leaning out and looking down through the boughs of the tree. Red leaves are scattered amongst the browning grass due to yesterdays storm and the sun is a weak, distant lantern in the far off sky, covered in a blanket of clouds.

I smile timidly and glance up towards Louis' window, his room dark still. Eventually I close my window and get dressed, changing into a suitable outfit to run errands in.

Hurrying downstairs, the strong scent of breakfast and sound of faint music grows. I reach the kitchen and slide onto a seat at the bench. My mum smiles at me from the stove, where she's cooking breakfast. Her brown hair has had more grey streaks through it recently, and her eyes have less of a shine, but she still wears the same floral dresses and ties her hair up into a bun.

"Hey, honey, did you have a good sleep?" She says over the pop music playing on the radio.

"I guess," Except for the fact most of the night I was lying awake, shivering with anxiety and unable to even close my eyes because of the fear that I'll never wake up again. That was fun.

"Good," She smiles and flips the bacon, using the spatula to press on it so it'll crisp. "Are you working at the nursing home today?"

"Yeah," I tug at a loose thread on the sleeve of my sweater, "I'm not getting any money. It's volunteering."

Mum frowns at me, "Harry, not everything is about money."

I sigh, "I know. Old people are weird though."

"God loves all, son."

After breakfast is finished and the fog has subsided, I hurry out of the house before the streets start getting too busy. Walking past Louis' house makes my stomach swirl, knowing he's inside. And that scares me, but only a little.