I Do?

Fortissimo

Sunlight hits Harry's green eyes the next morning, and it takes a moment for him to adjust. Sighing, he sits up and runs a hand over his bed in search of his phone. However, he comes back empty-handed. 

"Jesus fuck," He murmurs as he rubs his face tiredly. A rush of hot air washes over Harry and he tosses the blankets that cover him aside. 

When he does, he realizes what he's wearing. The suit jacket and tie he wore last night have been abandoned somewhere, but he still wears the white-collar shirt and black slacks. One of his black socks is curled at the end of the bed, and the other hangs off the end of his foot pathetically. 

He rolls the last of the sock off and tosses it across the room. His room, right. Slowly, as the sleep drifts away from Harry, the memories of the night before swarm in. Gemma's words ring loudly in his ears and he fears he may never forget them.

"A lot of things start to make sense when you take a look at the past" 

"Have you listened to 'Sweater Weather' by any chance?"

He shakes away his sister's words as he remembers how he got back to his bedroom in the first place. Flashes of Louis sitting with him in a dark room as Harry cries silently, Louis leaving for only a moment to call an Uber, the ride back home, and Louis taking off Harry's coat and guiding him into bed. 

Louis. Harry prays that he doesn't have to face Louis again after the events of the night before. He shouldn't have allowed himself to get so worked up and Harry's not sure how he'll deal with the embarrassment of it all. Surely, Harry will be able to avoid Louis for a week or so, just long enough for both of them to forget everything that happened. It wouldn't be the first time.  

Sighing, Harry slides out of his bed, welcoming the feel of the cold wood on his feet. He stops as he sees the figure on the floor. 

Louis lays on the ground of his bedroom with one suit jacket curled under his head and the other sprawled over half of his body. He lays in the fetal position, with his knees up to his chin. He sees a shiver run down Louis' back as he sleeps on the cold floor. Harry curses under his breath. Why didn't Louis go home? 

As quietly as possible, Harry pulls the blanket from his bed and lays it across Louis' body. Almost immediately he notices Louis relax. He tears his gaze away from the sleeping man as he feels a small smile starting to erupt at the corners of his lips. 

Harry forces his feet towards the door, making sure to close it as softly as possible, not wanting to wake Louis. The view of his apartment is a comforting one. The chandelier over the dining room gives off a warm glow, unlike the one at his childhood house, and the ticking of the clock fills the empty space in his head. 

His eyes find their way to the window overlooking the rest of the city. The sun sits behind a couple of large, light-gray clouds. It would be a great morning for a run, but it's the last thing he wants to do. 

As he stands in the large open room, he feels the invisible string again. The one that itches at the back of his head. The one that begs for Harry to come sit at the bench again. 

Thoughtlessly, Harry obliges the string. The last time he sat at the bench wasn't that long ago really, but it could've been centuries ago for all Harry is concerned. The last time he sat here, he didn't feel the burning numbness of his existence or the weight of the world on his shoulders. He felt everything then, but now he feels next to nothing. 

He doesn't fear the keys this time, not anymore. He brings his hands up to the ivory and places them down, producing a quiet hum. No song or note pattern comes to mind as Harry presses keys at random, enjoying the chaos of it all. 

As his fingers press down on random keys, he hears himself growing louder and faster, unable to keep up with his own inner voice. It whispers for Harry to move faster and to play as many notes as he can. How hard can he press? How fast can he go? It turns into a game, Harry versus Harry, who can play faster. 

He brings his finger down to play a note, but it slips, causing the side of his hand to slam down on multiple keys at once. The sound jolts Harry, bringing him back to life. Green eyes fall on the ivory and he watches as a drop of water hits one of the keys. Is the ceiling leaking?

Harry glances up and, as he does, feels a sting in his eyes. He looks back down at the keys and watches as another tear falls. Weird. Harry brings his hand up to his cheeks and touches them gently. 

The joyful bliss of the chaos of the keys fades as the fear of his own loneliness settles around him. His hands reach for his phone until he realizes he doesn't have it. Where would Louis have put it last night? 

Harry stands and glances around the room, tears still dripping down his cheeks. It doesn't take long for Harry to spot his phone on the charger in the kitchen. Quickly, he makes his way towards it, already knowing what he wants to do. 

It takes a couple of tries for his phone to recognize Harry's fingerprint, but when he does, he opens the phone app. He's memorized the path towards the contact and before he knows it, he's bringing the phone to his ear. 

The ring only lasts a second before a family voice washes over him. 

"Harry? It's like 9 in the morning on a Saturday, what," The voice groans.

"Can we meet at the park in ten? I really need to talk to you." 

~_~_~

Hey guys!! Larrentine's Day strikes again!! This is the fifth (?) annual Larrentine's Day on my account and I couldn't be happier to update this for you guys. I've been working on these updates for a little bit so I could really spoil y'all. Valentine's Day is a day to celebrate love, and what better way to do that than reading One Direction fanfics, am I right? Lol thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! ~B