Letters to the Author -Larry Stylinson

chapter fifteen

"You like to make yourself at home, don't you?" Louis murmurs teasingly, watching as Harry plops onto the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table and moving all the pillows to the other side.

"Huh?" Harry asks, looking around at himself, before shaking his head quickly and sitting up straight, placing his feet on the ground and putting the pillows back where they were. "Oh, sorry. Hab- I mean, I forgot I wasn't at my own flat." He smiles nervously.

The mood changes when Jay walks into the living room, holding a mug of tea tightly to her chest, hair down and glasses on.

"Harry!" She cries, her eyes wide and full of surprise. "Honey, I didn't know you were coming here today!" She runs over, as if about to hug him, and instead Harry gets up and shakes her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Tomlinson." He clears his throat, blinking rapidly. "I've heard a lot about you."

Louis squints his eyes, trying to figure out what is going on. Jay looks like she is about to cry, and Harry just seems extremely awkward and tense.

"Uhm, Harry, this is mum. Mum, this is Harry."

There is silence for a few moments, before Jay sighs and says politely, "Would you like some tea, Harry? I'd love to learn all about you."

Harry nods, placing his hands in the pockets of his trousers, and following reluctantly behind Louis' mum.

Louis doesn't follow at first.

He takes a moment to maintain his composure. For some odd reason, this whole ordeal is causing a weird feeling in his stomach, and his heart is hurting even though he's not even sad. He walks towards the entryway, before laying his head gently against the wall and taking a deep breath. Get yourself together, Louis, he thinks. The light blue wall is cool against his forehead, and he closes his eyes, letting himself breathe. He doesn't know what is going on, he doesn't know why everything is so weird, and never had he wanted to be able to remember more.

Who was Harry? Was he a best friend? A tutor, maybe? Or just a random person he saw in the hallways?

Boyfriend?

Louis shakes his head. No. That can't be. He would have some kind of proof. But there is no trace of him having an romantic relationships.

And if they really were boyfriends, Harry wouldn't have just left. He would've fought and tried to help Louis remember their relationship.

Obviously, what they had wasn't important enough to fight for.

Louis bites his lip. He needs to stop thinking about this. It's hurting his head, because no matter how much he thinks and digs into his mind, he can not remember that junior year. Or the summer before it, for that matter. It's beyond frustrating, so frustrating that he just wants to bang his head against this wall instead of resting against it.

He is interrupted from his thoughts when he hears two little squeals. "Phoebs and Daise," Louis mumbles, before brushing his hair out of his eyes and walking into the kitchen.

Harry is standing there, happiness but also sadness clear on his face as he gently rests his hands on the two girls backs, who are wrapped around his legs like monkeys. Louis can feel his gaze soften, his hands shake a little bit and his heart melt as he stares at the scene in front of him.

"Hi honey," Harry says warmly, cupping Phoebe's cheek, before leaning down and kissing Daisy's cheek. "Hello love."

They stare at Louis' friend as if he is the most amazing, wonderful, kind person in the whole entire universe. Louis can't help but stare as well. He stares at the flowing way he moves around, as he places his tea on the counter and then runs his hands through his hair and crosses his legs. He stares at his beautiful green eyes, at his soft gaze on all of his family as if their his own. Harry radiates warmth, he radiates kindness and love, and just that causes Louis to fall so hard, to feel this overwhelming feeling that he likes this boy, he likes him a lot, and it's familiar but at the same time so foreign and exciting.