Unbelievers

Chapter 7.7

He's off the entire football practice. He thinks the entire team can see it and feel it on the pitch as well. Harry takes command as captain despite it being Louis' day, but it feels natural. A couple of months ago something like that would be unimaginable – now Louis is just grateful.

Harry goes easy during practice, letting them all have a rather relaxed match at the end of the hour. Louis isn't focused, misses several passes, generally not playing well. Eventually the boys stop passing him and leave him be. Harry's on the opposing team, and when he jogs past Louis he gives him a concerned look. Louis can't talk right now, though, and Harry can't do anything either in front of the team. All Louis wants is to go home and curl up in bed. His eyes are bleary, his throat feeling clogged once again when Harry meets his eyes, a few yards between them on the pitch. Harry's eyes are questioning, worried even. His mouth opens just a little in a silent question.

Louis just shakes his head a fraction, biting his lip. Harry frowns and Louis smoothens his features with a hand over his face. Harry's frown deepens and it almost churns in Louis how much Harry seems to care. Despite their history and strange arrangement, Harry's concerned about him and that's more than he can say about anybody else. Harry might be the only one except his family to have an inkling to that his problems run deeper than just Niall, but it matters all the same.

Louis realizes that he didn't want Jasmine's concern, not because Harry asked him not to befriend her, but because her worry is insignificant as opposed to the people's in his life who matter. He doesn't just want someone to care, or just someone when he feels alone. He wants the people he cares about. And lately Harry is one of them.

Louis admits to it, as mind-bogging as it feels. He didn't need Jasmine to cry to, because, fuck it, he only wants Harry right now.

"Louis," Coach says, pulling him aside after practice. Louis can feel Harry's eyes on him, watching. Louis swallows and follows the older man to the bleachers where they sit down. Coach folds his hands together, looking at him evenly. "How's it feeling, lad?"

"Sorry," Louis apologizes instantly, sighing. "I was shit today."

Coach Abrahams nods slowly as his olive skin glistens softly in the light from the sun that's about to set. He brushes his short, dark beard between a finger and thumb. "You know, the first championship match is next Friday."

God knows that Louis knows this. They've been practicing for weeks and the stress has been nibbling at the insides of his gut for days. They won their qualifying match a couple of weeks ago, but this is the real deal. This is the quarterfinal. The team is completely wrapped up in the anticipation and preparations. They really should have had a harder practice today, but Harry obviously could read the team well, knowing that a softer session would be a better fit. He's good at that, reading people. Harry's got a good feel.

"I know, Coach," Louis says. "Today is just a one off. I promise."

Abrahams claps his back once, but doesn't say anything for a while. They both lean their elbows on their thighs, watching the pitch empty, the lads trickling away toward the locker room. Harry's still by the bench though, putting footballs back into a net.

"You're a great player, Louis," the other man says. "You've got it in you. Not just the raw talent, but that spark. You just have to show people that and you have to bring it when it matters. You've developed massively as a team player this year."

"Crediting yourself, are you?" Louis says with a quirk of his brow and Coach chuckles. Louis grins, stomach warm with the praise from the coach. It means a lot.

"Don't think you wouldn't have been the player you are without me, Tommo," he says, clapping his thigh. "These four years have done well to your brains as well as your feet." There's a smile on his lips, and Louis' genuine grin remains. "What I wanted to tell you, though, Louis, is that Manchester University is asking for my opinion."