Harry
Louis. Louis. Louis.
Louis Tomlinson. he showed up at my window at 9:30. I snapped at him and he stayed. I explained and he listened. I melted with nervousness and he washed it away.
I've always been nervous around people. I've never been able to talk to people without freaking out or not being able to just listen to them. But talking to Louis is the easiest thing I've ever done. It's like breathing.
But wait.
He's straight, or at least he said he was. Or did he? Did he ever actually say that? Because of what happened last night, in the middle of the road at night with the moonlight dancing over his face. that tells me otherwise, but maybe it was an accident. Maybe he just got caught in the moment.
why does he stay? part of me wants him to leave. he doesn't know me, I don't know him. but a larger part of me is yelling at me telling me to stay, telling me to do whatever I can to keep him to stay with me. in my presence, in my mind.
