Sparks Fly

Chapter fifteen.

Huge huge HUGE apologies for being slow and not uploading in forever :( But I’m on holidays now so I should have heaps more time to write!
Okay, I’m going to be honest and say that I really do not like this chapter. So please please please let me know what your honest opinions are, what you want to happen, etc etc etc!!
Lots and lots of love,
Kate .xx

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The kiss was cold, meaningless. But Louis couldn't deny that he enjoyed every part of it. The way their lips fitted together like a puzzle piece and moved in complete synchronization, the way Harry’s fingers locked together behind Louis' head, almost like he didn’t want Louis to leave. But Louis didn't want to get into the kiss, because he just knew it was Harry's way of shutting him up. He didn't mean it. He'd look over it later, thinking "I'm so glad I stopped him from saying those horrid things." But Louis, Louis would look over it later and think, “The boy I'm in love with kissed me. He truly, actually kissed me.”
Louis was unsure of how he felt about the kiss. He wanted to be mad, angry that Harry didn't mean it... But at the same time, he caught himself having to suppress the urge to sing his happiness from the rooftop. He couldn't deny the fact that he liked kissing Harry. Anyone likes kissing the person they like, that’s normal. But if only ONE of the people likes the other, then… No. Louis didn’t want to think about it. He forced himself out of his thoughts and busied himself by picking up the book from his bedside table and reading it from the page he had put a bookmark in. He was back at his and Harry's flat, he'd rushed there after the whole kissing incident, not saying a word to Harry when he broke the kiss, nor to Liam whom he rushed past as he practically ran out the front door.
 
He'd not known where to go, what to do, brain still frazzled from the delightful yet confusing kiss. What did it mean? What was going through Harrys mind when he did that? Why... Just, why?? He found himself standing upon his own doorstep, so grabbing the keys out of his pocket, he let himself in and paced a few times, before deciding to try and calm himself down by lying on his bed. That didn't help, though. Louis found that his mind wandered even more than before, over analysing everything and getting his hopes up over nothing. He'd crushed his own thoughts, deleting any thought that held a slither of hope for him and Harry by telling himself in a strong voice that no one would ever love him, Harry would never love him.
 
He put his book down with a sigh, rubbing his hands over his face as if it would help wipe away all the emotions that had slithered into his system. But it didn't take them away. He had to do that himself. So, Louis gathered up all the feelings he had inside of him; feelings for Harry, feelings about the kiss, feelings that made him cry, shout, scream, and locked them all away in the back of his mind. He didn't want to feel like this, so vulnerable and weak, so embarrassed and nervous. Because that wasn't him. Louis was a crazy, cheeky boy who said every irrelevant thought that crossed his mind, not a shy guy who has all these feelings and cares so much about what other people say about him. He's not the sort of guy to over analyse everything, nor was he someone who needs to tell himself to stop being so god damn SENSITIVE. And he hated that in such a short period of time, he'd become this person. So scared about how others see him, so scared to be in love. So scared of all the names he'd be called, the people he would lose, the dirty looks. He didn’t only feel this way about the fact that he may possibly be head over heels for his best friend who just so happened to be a male as well, but he had also begun to take the hate tweets to heart and believe that he was the weakest singer of the group, the ugliest one, the one who was a dick to everyone
He didn’t want to feel like this. He didn’t want to hurt so much over something that he knew was so silly. He didn’t like feeling so broken, helpless, and lonely. He just wanted everything to go back to normal – not worrying about his insecurities, not feeling so utterly stupid, and his feelings for harry to go away. So he decided to fix it. He didn’t know where the sudden surge of control came from, but he decided that he wasn’t going to let this hurt him. He was going to ignore his feelings for harry, ignore his feelings for everything. Ignore the kiss – no matter how much he wanted to remember it, he would block it from his memory and act like nothing happened.
Because that’s what Louis was good at – faking.
 
~*~
 
Harry sat on Niall's spare bed, the white walls of the small room his only friend. He sighed and snuggled further into the navy blur coloured pillow, wrapping the covers of the oversized duvet around him tighter. The small wall mounted TV was playing re-runs of "Punk'd", but Harry wasn't listening, he couldn't concentrate. His mind was running a thousand miles per hour, thinking, panicking, processing. He was a wreck, eyes red and puffy from fallen tears that had freed themselves from Harry’s eyes in a steady flow. He was tired of thinking, completely exhausted from having so many emotions - and it was only 4:25pm.
 
He was disgusted with himself, even more-so after telling the boys his dirty secret. Aren't you supposed to feel better after throwing your burden on someone else? Isn't it supposed to feel good to let it all out?? Because Harry didn't feel good. No, Harry felt disgusting, angry with himself, broken. You should have seen the looks on the boy’s faces when Harry was telling them. You should have seen the way Zayn look at him - eyes full of poison. You should have seen the way Louis looked so breakable, so fragile, but suddenly so full of anger, bitterness towards Harry. You should have seen the millions of emotions that flew through his eyes when Harry broke the kiss - so many emotions, that if you asked Harry to name them all, he only be able to identify one, as that would be emptiness. Yes, although a million feelings where there, that is what Harry picked up on. Why did Louis feel so empty?? Harry didn't know. But he couldn't shake the look of hollowness and distance in Louis' eyes. It was like he had excluded himself from the world. It was like Louis' body was there, but Louis really wasn't. He was gone, scared, too broken to face the world. And it tore Harry to pieces. It scared him that this usually bubbly boy, was weighing himself down with unreadable, dark emotions. Harry didn't know why, and he didn't know when it started. He only really realized it after he... After he kissed Louis. After the distraught older boy had yelled at him with harsh words - all of which Harry knew deserved, but at the same time couldn't handle. It was only after he made the harsh words stop, and looked Louis in the eyes, giving him every part of his attention that he really realized it. And when he did realize it, he wanted Louis to yell. He wanted Louis to yell and let out wert feeling he had, because he could see how much the Doncaster lad needed to. He wished he hadn't shut him up, he wished he had let him say the horrible things, cuss words flying everywhere. He wanted to fix Louis, do anything he could to stop the boy from feeling so awful. But he didn't know how.
 
He wished he realized how distant Louis was before the kiss. He would have never have needed to kiss him, because he would have known to let Louis yell, or Louis wouldn't have needed to yell in the first place. But for some reason... He didn't regret the kiss. Actually, he somewhat enjoyed it. Why? Why the hell did Harry Styles, who was completely heterosexual, enjoy kissing his best, also heterosexual, friend? He ought to be disgusted that his lips touched another males', and laugh it off like it never happened. It was meant to be light-hearted, meant to remind Louis that Harry was a real person, not just a toy to yell at.
 
But to Harry it was so much more than that. He got flustered just thinking of it. Something wasn't right. Something was changing in Harry Styles, whether he knew it or not.
 
~*~
 
The next day, when Harry finally had the courage to return back to his shared flat, he was anxious. He was anxious to see what would happen to him and Louis. Would Louis think he was overreacting? Would Louis notice how tense he was about the whole situation? His plan was to avoid the subject altogether, but if something accidentally slipped out of his mouth, or Louis brought it up; he needed to create an action plan. He'd laugh about it; pretend it meant nothing to him. He'd say it was a tactic to shut him up - which it was. But he would not, under any circumstances say that he may have possibly enjoyed the kiss just a bit. Maybe more than a bit. He would not mention that he had been thinking of it all night, that it meant something to him that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He'd play it cool, laugh it up, sling his arm around Louis and everything would be back to normal. Or so he hoped.
 
When he stepped into the flat, he closed the door quietly behind him. His steps were small and cautious, not knowing exactly where to go. He smelt bacon. So his feet took him to the kitchen. There, he found Louis wearing his boxers, a striped shirt, and his "I'm the chef" apron that Niall had bought him for Christmas. Louis didn't seem to realize that the younger boy had entered the kitchen, and kept flipping away at his bacon and pancakes. Harry watched him intently, watching as his face screwed up when smoke from the pan met his eyes, watching as he put all his attention on using the tongs to take out every single piece of bacon, watching as he freaked out because he completely forgot about the pancake he was cooking. Louis rushed away from the plate of bacon and back to the stove to flip the pancake, letting out a groan when he saw the black, flaky side of the pancake. He ran his fingers through his hair, and Harry let out a small giggle. Louis spun round, surprised by the noise and jumped back a bit when he saw Harry standing there. Harry awkwardly smiled at him and waved, trying to break the tension. A huge grin spread on Louis face, and he stepped away from the bench he’d jumped behind to protect himself.

“Want some food?” he said, still grinning as gestured to the bacon and pile of good pancakes, throwing away the burnt pancake with a blush. Harry was shocked at how cool he was being about the whole thing. He was acting exactly how Harry needed to act; cool, calm and collected. Harry weakly nodded to him and made his way over to the breakfast bar, hiding his shaking hands in his lap. He watched as Louis pottered around the kitchen grabbing knives, forks, plates and glasses, a look of happiness never leaving his face. Harry was glad that Louis didn’t seem to care about the incident, but a small part of him wanted Louis to care, to feel happy about it, to feel annoyed, to feel anything. But no. Louis just floated around being the perfect person he is, with that perfect smile and perfect attitude and perfect everything. Harry wouldn’t let it get to him. He was fed up with thinking like this, especially when he is the company of his best friend and everything was okay. He should be embracing it, thankful that Louis is fine and not yelling at him, instead of feeling so conflicted over such a stupid thing. So he spread a smile on his face and took the plate that Louis was holding out for him, hopped off the stool, and waltzed into the lounge room with Louis following closely behind him. Louis smacked Harry on the bum playfully as he rushed past the younger lad to claim to sofa, as Harry blushed furiously and attempted a laugh. He plonked himself down next to Louis, hesitantly putting the older boy’s legs in his lap as to make room for himself. Stop it Harry, he thought, Louis is your best friend – nothing more. Stop being so hesitant and awkward!!!

“I’m just going to the loo, orright mate?” Louis said, removing his legs from Harrys lap and placing his food on the coffee table. Harry nodded sheepishly and watched as Louis left the room, huffing and hanging his head in his hand when he was sure the older lad was gone. Now he’d really done it. He’d been so awkward, and it had shown. He’d put Louis legs in his lap, and obviously that was not okay.

It was all his fault.

Meanwhile, Louis had rushed upstairs, pointedly ignoring the fact that tears were welling up in his eyes and his hands were shaking more than usual. He rushed to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and sliding down it, head in his hands. The tears fell freely, crashing all around him and wetting his shirt. But Louis didn’t care, because all Louis cared about right now was Harry. It had taken every ounce of his strength to put on that fake smile, to act like he was calm about everything, to tap Harrys bum without also turning him around, pinning him on the wall and kissing him heatedly. He wanted Harry so much, he wanted them to sit and talk about this, he wanted to know what Harry was feeling, he wanted to go back to being normal. And now, Harry was down there by himself, perfectly fine, perhaps wondering why Louis had rushed off so quickly. Louis didn’t know how Harry was feeling. Probably regretting the kiss, disgusted that Louis kissed him back, awkward because he was in the same house as the guy he just made out with. Louis had made Harry feel awkward in his own home. And that was not okay. He let out another sobbed, consumed by his emotions and sick of hiding everything. Sick of having to act, and acting so well because of the drama classes he took as a child. Because sometimes, sometimes he just wanted Harry to see right through his act. Lay all his cards on the table. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He’d ruined everything by developing these stupid feelings.

It was all his fault.

TBC .xx