Outliers [L.S]

36

"I need an escape," he whispered, his eyes dilating. Things started clicking into place, and I'm pushing myself off the bed, standing on the opposite side away from him.

"Harry," I lectured. I grabbed a random shirt from my nightstand, slipping it on at my sudden vulnerability.

He doesn't say anything. He just stares at me, with the same look in his eyes. I wondered if his mind was clouded over.

"What are you trying to do," I shoot. "You just screamed at me not even ten minutes ago and you come charging in here like," I stop, because I'm not sure if he wanted to kiss me like how my original thoughts might have. I might be just embarrassing myself.

"I was in a dark place," he mutters, walking around the bed towards me. I climb across the bed away from him. His eyebrows furrow as he watches me.

"Explain yourself more clearly."

"I don't know Louis," Harry exclaims, tossing his arms into the air. His eyes are suddenly wild as they dance around my face. "I don't know!"

"Harry, you're not making any sense. You can't just be mad at me and then expect me to want to," I make a 'ya know' gesture because I'm still not totally sure what he wants.

"Louis," Harry begins, a little more calm from a few seconds ago. "When I kiss you, it brings light to me and I need that. I need you, and still do," he explains, licking his lips. He slowly walks around the bed. This time, I'm not escaping. At least not yet.

"You can't do that to me," I say, feeling suddenly like I had to be honest with him. If he was being honest about our kisses, then maybe I should. If I was only his escape it would only be fair if he knew that every time he kissed me my feelings grew for him. I didn't want him to get into something he didn't want.

"What do you mean," he wonders, stopping a few inches from me.

"I don't want to be used by you," I finally say, sitting on the bed again. He shifts so he's in front of me, like a few seconds ago.

"I'm not using you. I crave you Lou. It's not my fault," he answers. He obviously was still confused.

"Harry, I should probably tell you something," I mumbled. A smile cracks across his face.

"I'm a bad kisser," he teases, obviously not understanding I was being completely serious.

"No," I sigh, dropping my head into my hands. "I'm being serious here, Harry."

"Sorry."

I sigh again, more slowly as I work up the courage to say what I want to say. But, my thinkings stopped as Harry pushes me against the bed. Within seconds he's over top of me, bracing his weight by his arms that's placed on either side of my head. Immediately my thoughts are scattered and i'm barely holding onto them.

His hair hangs around us like a curtain, distracting me even more. My thoughts are like sand seeping between a set of fingers. Quickly disappearing. I press a hand to his chest to prevent him from leaning in, because he needs to know this.

"Harry, you can't just want me whenever you're in whatever mindset you consider a dark place. You can't use me as an escape," I ordered. I felt the air on my face as he sighed, his head dipping slightly again. I reached a hand to his face, to brush his hair back. The left side of his face was a soft glow compared to the shadowed part.

"It's not exactly that. I crave your lips all the time," he whispered. His eyes glance at my lips right on time, making me smile slightly.

"That's for me too but it's different for me. It scares me, but I know you need to know," I stated calmly. I let my hand drop, his hair shadowing his face again. It made it easier to look at him as I collected the thoughts I needed to say.

"I think, or I'm pretty sure, I have feelings for you," I blurted, deciding that just spitting the words out was a much easier thing to do.

Harry doesn't look at me in disgust. He doesn't run away. His limbs don't go ridgid. He stays completely relaxed. In fact, he doesn't seem to react.

"What do you mean?"

And that's why.

"I mean, I like you. A lot more than I probably should," I muttered. Still, Harry doesn't react in the way I expected but his smile does turn lopsided.

"That's fine," he answers. I blink at him.

"It can't just be fine," I ordered. Harry raises his eyebrows.

"Why not? I don't mind if you like me. It doesn't change anything for me," he explains. So it wasn't a big deal to him? I'm not sure he totally understands what I mean.

"Harry, I just told you that I like you. You shouldn't be okay with that, especially if it's not mutual."

"Doesn't mean it won't be one day mutual," he answers, acting like my point was dumb. He drops down beside me on the bed. The light seemed brighter than it was before, my eyes had gotten used to how Harry shaded them.

"You're leading me on," I argued.

"I'm not, especially if I'm saying it can be mutual, maybe one day," he groans, throwing his arm over his eyes. "I don't care, and honestly I don't know how I feel about it but I know it isn't a bad thing for me. Can we just forget about it? Just sleep with me at least," he mumbles, turning his head to look at me. I felt a slight heat creep up my neck over my face.

I knew we couldn't just forget about it, and this conversation will be playing over in my head often, but maybe for now it was okay. I wanted to cuddle up with Harry and sleep with him, even if it was only platonically.

"I need some sort of light in me," Harry adds, in a whisper. It has me smiling and sitting up. Harry's eyebrows pinch together but I'm quickly shushing him, shoving him so he's laying long ways on the bed.

"Then let me be your light," I whispered back, laying down beside him once he was situated. I tug the covers over my shoulder, curling into my side. Within seconds Harry is wrapping me into his arms. I felt content in Harry's arms, and I was hoping no more arguments would happen between us.

"You're my sunshine," he mumbles into my hair. "My temptress," he continues. I feel as he kisses the top of my head. I felt like I was floating in my own bliss.

"That doesn't make much sense," I giggled. It was true, the sunshine part did but I wasn't totally sure what he meant by temptress.

"Well, I suppose it would be temper, but you'll figure it out. And no, the google definition isn't correct," he teases, stopping my reach for my phone. I smile shyly, burying my head into his chest.

"Goodnight my love," he mutters softly, planting one more kiss into my hair.

"Goodnight," I mumbled.