Unbelievers

Chapter 9.9

One day. Two days. Three days. Four.

Thursday. Louis is sitting on his porch. He hasn't heard a word from Uni.

It's inevitable that it happens, because it has to, hasn't it? The talk.

His entire family is inside the house, spending time together as a whole for the first time in literally a year. They ate Spaghetti Bolognese, and now they're all inside making dessert. Team effort. It was nice for a while, when he could forget everything else. He can't do that for long.

It's warm out even though it's dusk. It's May, and May means there's roughly a month left of school. Roughly a month until Harry is out of Louis' life for good.

Louis could try to make him stay. He isn't going to. Harry deserves going to uni and he deserves to go play at one of the best schools Louis can think of. He's not angry that he's going, he's just sad.

So, the inevitable happens. He's sitting on the porch, hands in his own hair, knees pulled up to his chest.

"Hi."

He looks up.

Harry is standing on the sidewalk, just where the stone path down to the porch starts. He's in his navy hoodie, his usual track pants on. He looks so normal, yet everything feels different from any other time he's showed up out of the blue.

Louis hasn't spoken to him since the match. Hasn't been to school much. The exams are finished, practice doesn't hold any significance anymore, and facing people in school seems like a much too hard task.

"Gotta admit my timing is good," Harry says. His voice is airy, but it's like he's trying too hard to seem casual. It's silly, because they both know what he's here for.

Louis gets what he means. Harry's timing is good because Louis is already sitting on the porch, almost like he was expecting him.

"Not really." Good timing would entail not leaving the moment they seem to both know where they stand.

"Maybe not then." He shrugs, lips pressed down not too hard, cheeks just a little puffy. They're rosy too, as if he's already embarrassed. He's nervous, Louis realizes. He musters up a small smile, trying to seem unintimidating, but just turns out tired and hopeless.

Harry inhales, fingers trembling just a little. "Remember how you said that you trusted yourself with me?" he starts, voice uneven. He swallows, and as much as Louis wishes that he could walk up to him, take his hands, look into his eyes and calm him down, he knows he can't. "I know that you've been trying to talk to me about... us?" He inhales, muscles tense. "I'm sorry that I haven't been very... erm, accommodating. Just... sorry."

Louis watches him, lump already starting to thicken in his throat.

He shuffles awkwardly, looking down at his own feet, curls covering half of his face. Louis can see his mouth moving, lips delicately pink in the slowly darkening evening. "Well, you said that you trusted yourself with me, and it sounded like you thought you couldn't anymore? And I guess, what I'm trying to say is..." He looks up, eyes impossibly green as they meet Louis'. "You can?"

It comes out like a question, but Louis knows it's a statement. He squeezes his eyes shut for only a moment, trying to muster up some strength to get through this.

"Why?" Louis asks. "Why did you just go away after the semi-final? Really?"

Harry bites his lip, eyes knitting. He's quiet when he speaks. "Because you looked at me like that, and I was scared that you didn't mean it afterwards. You acted so strange and I was scared to take the first step. I was surprised, I mean, wouldn't you be? If I kissed you in front of everyone?"