for angels to fly | lwt + hes.

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Despite having lived alone for almost a year, Louis' flat began to feel absurdly empty as he realised that Harry was gone. He collapsed onto his bed after checking both the kitchen and bathroom for the curly-haired boy, acknowledging the tightness in his chest as disappointment. He supposed it was easier than the awkward morning -after type scenario, but, though Louis was reluctant to admit it, he was frustrated that Harry had left without even a goodbye. Especially after showing up at Louis' doorstep with a pretty poor attempt at an explanation for his injuries and with his stupid eyes that Louis couldn't possibly help but be pulled in by. 

His memories of the night before were fresh and vivid in his mind; Louis could remember with perfect clarity Harry's hot breath at his neck, the soft brush of his eyelashes and the tiny snuffling sounds he made as he slept. In the numerous and frequent fantasies he'd had about being pressed up against Harry Styles, not one of them involved anything close what had actually occurred. And not one of them had been nearly as satisfying as reality. Louis groaned, grabbing for his pillow and pulling it over his head, trying to suppress the feeling rising up in his chest. Why had Harry decided to come to him in the first place? He'd made it clear that he didn't want anything to do with him.

And that was another thing - what the hell had the boy meant by referring to Louis as a 'reminder of what he couldn't have' when he'd talked about their last interaction? His whole apology made no sense. How could he possibly have been 'ruining' Louis? What did that even mean? If it had been anyone else, Louis would have thought that the whole thing had been pre-meditated specifically to torture him, but like everything Harry had said and done so far, it had been completely sincere.

Seeing Harry so vulnerable and fragile was profoundly unsettling. Remembering the state he had been in had Louis' protective side raising its head as a hard knot of anger formed in the pit of his stomach. The memory was all too clear of the bruising that marred the other boy's cheek, the cuts and swelling and the utter exhaustion in the depths of those green eyes. Harry had been so utterly vulnerable, and he'd chosen to come to Louis' flat, of all places. Behind the anger at the boy being in the position where he could be hurt in the first place, Louis was suffused with a strange warmth at the thought of Harry choosing to come to him. 

Confusion followed the warmth; what was going on with him lately? Harry's sudden presence in his life was seriously messing with his head. Louis was constantly tired, constantly on edge. Despite making the decision to leave Harry alone, to forget about the whole surreal experience, thoughts of him persisted. Louis was reminded of how Liam had warned him of how easily Harry could fit into people's lives; the eerie experience of Harry looking completely at home on his couch, the memory of the comfort sleeping next to him had provided - they weren't a product of something special or anything. Harry was naturally charismatic. Louis could imagine that he charmed everyone he met. Louis wasn't special. Harry had just needed a place to crash and Louis was an easy option.

Despite telling himself this as he moved from his bedroom to the kitchen to make himself a strong cup of coffee, Louis couldn't help the niggling at the back of his mind, the worry of whether or not Harry had made it home okay. He had to have walked. It would have taken almost an hour by foot. What if he was seriously hurt? Louis hadn't really made sure that his face was the only injured part of him. He should probably see a doctor about the bruising on his cheek, just in case. Louis was certain that that was unlikely to happen. 

The worry persisted, cold and unsettled in his chest as he showered, dressed and headed out the door. 

Louis had intended to head to the supermarket and do a bit of shopping; he didn't realise until he was halfway to the bus stop that he was walking in the complete opposite direction.