Be My Eyes || Larry Stylinson

e i g h t

chapter eight

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Niall had somehow managed to avoid Zayn for the past 2 and a half weeks. Not like, not seeing him or never getting texts - no. He still saw him; but the conversations were kept at simple hello's and how are you's, because once Zayn started to ask something more serious, Niall fled.

And while Niall avoided Zayn, Harry was being constantly spoken to by Louis Tomlinson. Their conversations were mostly rude remarks and such on Louis' part and silence on Harry's. Harry knew better than to lash back at the Doncaster boy, so he kept it quiet. But, some days, it was strange. Louis would be nicer to Harry and/or quieter. Sometimes he would just walk into Harry's room with a bag full of books for studying, and on rare occasions he would ask Harry for help on things he didn't understand. 

To say Harry was confused is an understatement. He was beyond confused - he was befuddled about what the hell was going on. 

"Harry?" It was nearly 11.00 p.m. and the sound of the older boy's voice was quiet, barely noticeable, but there nonetheless. Louis had never been one to be considerate for people's feelings, especially Harry's; but as time went on Louis couldn't help but feel a little upset over the frown that would be etched into Harry's features after he had just been called a name. Louis couldn't but notice the sadness the younger boy felt as Harry fumbled with things and words. But Louis couldn't help being Louis sometimes, and even though it hurt him a little bit, he still said those nasty words to the curly headed lad.

"Harry?" The voice was a bit louder now as Harry's door creaked open. Just as the door was shut behind him, he whimpered quiety as thunder sounded throughout the room. Harry made no move, staying turned over, facing the wall.

"Haz?" The nickname slipped accidentally, making Louis squeeze his eyes shut in embarrasment.

"Yes, Louis?"

"Can I sleep in here? It's uh- too dangerous to walk home in this weather."

Harry knew that wasn't the reason, but he couldn't let the poor guy do something that frightened him so much. He knew what it was like to be the one too scared to move. He knew all too well, and he wasn't about to put another person through something like that.

"I don't have a lot of space in here," Harry murmured, not because he wanted to be rude, but because it was true.

"It's okay, I'll sleep on the floor. I don't need much room."

"Are you sure, you can take the bed."

"No, Harry, just - no."

"But -"

"Really, you letting me stay is enough. Take the bed and rest your little blind eyes, okay?"

Harry winced, "Okay."

"Uhm - yeah. Sorry. Okay. Night." Louis mumbled, catching the flaw in his reasoning.

"Goodnight, Lou."

Goddamn you, blind boy.