Letters to London

Chapter 23

"I am."

"You're not," Louis says. His voice cracks and returns to a whisper. He doesn't speak for a few seconds, trying not to cry. "When I came to Boston a little over a year ago and gave you back the letters, it was before I realized everything. I realized something else. I'd screwed up. In the process of healing myself, I hurt Eleanor. I didn't want to hurt her anymore because she hadn't done anything to deserve it. Actually, she'd helped me. I knew what I felt for you, and I was trying to push it away because I thought I loved Eleanor and I needed her to know that. I couldn't do it before she left."

Harry sighs and watches him carefully. He looks so small and fragile, standing there just telling Harry his feelings without a fear in the world. By the way he's saying it, Harry knows he's being sincere, and he knows it's all the truth. "I understand," Harry says.

Louis' head snaps up and he looks at Harry with wide eyes. "You don't forgive me though," he says. He chuckles, smiling down at his feet. When he looks up, only half of his lips are pulled into a smile.

He looks right at Harry as he says it. "You know the thing about soulmates? They're the two things that don't fall apart, even when everything around them does."

Harry sucks in a breath and stares back at him. He doesn't know why, but suddenly he feels Louis' words in his skin. Louis is speaking to him, to his heart, and he's not trying to play with him anymore.

Slowly, Harry pushes himself to his feet. Louis gulps and takes half a step back, pulling his hands out of his pockets. Harry gets nearer, until he's hovering above Louis. He tilts his chin up, staring up at Harry.

Harry looks down at him. He slowly raises a hand. "Can I kiss you?"

Louis swallows thickly and stares back at him, his eyes flicking back and forth between Harry's. Slowly, he nods. "Yes."

Harry's eyes shut, and his hand comes up to Louis' chin. Louis' tiny hand meets Harry's on his chin, as he feels Harry's lips brush against his own. His eyes flutter shut as Harry fits his lips between his.

As much as Louis knows he doesn't deserve it, he knows everything feels right.

Harry feels his heart begin to thump in his chest.  He doesn't feel himself smile, and he deepens the kiss. His hands grab the sides of Louis' head, tilting it up, and he feels Louis' hands on his own. He feels him kissing back with a fiery passion. He feels all the words that should be said passing between them as though they're screaming them into the sky. He feels his fingertips heat and curl against Louis' skin, stroking at the softness of his hair and the sides of his face. Even though Harry is still mad at him and doesn't know why he's even kissing him, he knows what's happening.

Everything feels exactly how it's supposed to.

~

Harry steps out of the car and walks right into his own flat. Alice is sitting on the couch, and a muscular-looking boy with sharp cheekbones turns around.

Harry stops and looks at Alice and then at him.

"Harry," Alice blushes. "This is Peter, my brother."

Harry walks over and offers a hand. Peter takes it and shakes it, smiling up at Harry. Harry tries to contain his feelings for him- he's hot for a guy.

"Harry Styles, Alice's best friend," he says.

Peter laughs. "I think I'd know who you were."

He has traces of a British accent, and as much as Harry hates to admit it, it makes him hotter.

"Right," Harry says. He clears his throat and turns to Alice. "Can I borrow you for a minute?" he asks quietly.

She looks worried and nods, standing up. "Just a minute," she says to her brother. He smiles as she follows Harry into the kitchen. They hear the television click on, and then they know it's safe to talk.