Wilted Flowers [Edited]

9. Pinky Promise

Turning around, Harry pulls Louis into his chest. He hugs the man in his arms for a few more moments. He can't say how he's feeling, a mixture of concern and happiness to have Louis here. The embrace feels warm, igniting a fire in his sense. Somehow, though, the feeling still feels fragile, unattainable even.

What is this? He asks himself. He's trying to get back together with his ex, the one who abused him, and all I can think about is my selfish need to be around him.

Pulling away from the hug, he feels his arms empty. He doesn't have the energy to say anymore so he discreetly places a small gift with a shiny lilac bow in the accent basket and leaves the house.

Checking his reflection in the rearview mirror, Louis licks his lips as he notices they're scattered with tiny specks of white and dull skin. Even though he knows it's from his lack of nutrition, he has no desire to change his eating habits. Instead, he fishes in his pocket for a tube of chapstick and slathers it on his lips.

He's surprised he's even driving, usually wanting to walk everywhere. He wants to conserve his energy, though. He parks the car and gets out, shoving his hands in his pocket. He opens the door that sounds small bells and sees Clay already waiting in a booth with two malt milkshakes.

Clay watches him for a second. "You've gotten more handsome. How is that even possible? The first minute I saw you, I knew that you had to be mine, and I took you for granted. I'm such a loser!"

Louis blushes. "I don't think so. I'm not that great."

"Are you kidding me, Lou? Before the coach benched you, you were the best player we had. You were going to be captain, I could see it! I'm sorry that you got sick."

"It's okay," he shrugs. "You're still captain, I guess."

"I'm also sorry I wasn't there for you when your Mom passed away. I was selfish, to say the least. I've done some soul searching, but I've matured since then. I hope you give me a chance to prove it to you. We can have that forever we used to talk about. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Louis gazes deep into Clay's eyes, falling in love all over again. "It does sound so nice."

Clay reaches over the table and cups Louis' hands into his own. "I want to fix this...if you haven't moved on."

"No. You're all I seem to think about. The other day Niall had friends over watching the big game, and I couldn't even socialize because I kept thinking about us..."

"Wait, Niall? Are you living with him?" Clay asks assertively. "Who else was there?"

"Zayn, Liam" Louis takes a small sip of the milkshake, trying to calm his nerves. "And Harry," he says above a whisper.

"Harry? Louis, I told you a long time ago. None of these people are good for you. All they've tried to do is put distance between you and me, and so far, they've succeeded. We can never be together if you don't stop listening to them."

"Yeah, you're right..." Louis says in surrender, frowning.

"Hey, why don't we get out of here and go back to my place for old time sake? I've been craving you," Clay squeezes his hand.

"Yeah, okay."

Leaving money on the table, Clay walks Louis to his car. The tension is visible. Being in the black Mustang uncovered memories of sitting in this very seat and being slapped across the face for dozing off, or Clay ripping his phone out of his hands because he got a notification from Instagram. Or even the time Clay threatened to drive his car over a bridge, killing them both because if he couldn't have them, nobody can.

Then there were the good memories, too. Making out in the back seat of the car, or listening to the radio and singing along; driving to their matches together and going over the plays. They were more good than bad, really, Or is that the brain playing tricks on him?

Finding a parking spot outside the crowded dorm, Clay parks the car and switches off the ignition. As Louis stretches out his thin legs, he feels off-balance, more than likely due to his lack of a sensible diet lately. He feels himself falling back into the seat, but he could do nothing to stop vertigo.

Noticing his distress, Clay reaches out his hand and pulls him to his feet. "I think I have granola bars. You'll be okay," He says as they walk back to the dorm. "My roommate should be out for the evening. I would love it if we could spend the night together."

"We'll see how it goes," Louis replies quickly. "Maybe we should take things slow."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry. I've just missed you, and I thought I'd never get the chance to make it right. I know I saw you at the games, but we never actually....talked until now."

"I know..." Louis sighs. "I'm sorry."

Closing the door behind them, Clay motions Louis to sit down on the bed, happy they're finally alone.