Dream Writer » Larry AU

34: WEAK

A/N: This continues directly where we left off. Hope you enjoy.

Louis,

"Lou. What's going on? Are you alright?" I heard Harry in my ear.

It was understandable that he had hesitated to pull me into his arms, since we were in public. But once he noticed my quickened breathing, he was quick to encircle his arms around me. He kept stroking my back, since he probably thought I was having a panic attack, and that made me feel bad. In reality, I had simply awakened a fear I thought had been dead for many years.

But no, it's wasn't. Because right there-casually buying plums at a fruit stand-was my former mortal enemy, and I was just as afraid as I'd been a decade earlier.

"Please, tell me what's going on," Harry whispered. "Baby, I'm worried about you."

I'd be happy to feel a kiss or two at the spot where I could feel his breath hitting my skin, but I knew he wouldn't. We were in public, and I was supposed to be anti-PDA even though I had already kind of warmed up to it.

"Is it social anxiety?" he continued. "Should we go inside somewhere? Or go back home?"

Once I'd gained enough strength to pull away from his embraced, I finally broke out of my mute trance.

"Sorry, babe," I breathed and wiped my forehead from the thin layer of sweat. "It's-It's nothing huge. I just saw something," I said, but the last fraction of my sentence seemed to be inaudible due to my loss of breath. "Saw something," I repeated, a little clearer.

Harry carefully cupped my cheek. "You're all red. Are you feeling okay? Do you need water?"

"No, it's completely fine, Harry," I promised, but it's wasn't fine. It was just a priority of mine to make him stop worrying. There was no reason to cause a scene when nothing had actually happened. "I just saw somebody that I didn't expect to see," I settled with.

"What-Like an actor?" And just like that, Harry had gone from anxious to excited in a split second. In fact, it had only been a second, and he was already eagerly scanning our surroundings. "Where?"

To capture him fully, I seized his jaw and angled his face towards my own. "No, you fool. Somebody irrelevant."

"Really?" Harry was frowning, and it wasn't until he crossed his arms that I realised he'd thought I was hiding something. "In my opinion, they're not exactly irrelevant if they make you sweat and hyperventilate."

A sigh puffed out of me. "Turn around," I commanded, but Harry just stared. "Just turn around, and I'll instruct you where to look to find him."

Finally, he turned his heel.

"Short or tall?"

The inquiry made my eyes roll. Instead of replying, I gathered his shoulders into my clutch and guided him in the right direction.

"See that guy wearing a polo and a tacky Nike rucksack?" It was terrorising how even the tiniest movements mirrored how they had been in high school. Like the simple gesture of him combing his fingers through his hair. When I tore my eyes off the subject to observe my boyfriend however, he was in the completely wrong way. "No! By the fruit stand!" I informed him, wheezing. "He's eating a plum."

"Who's that? Am I supposed to recognise him from the telly? Oh, wait, was he in-"

"He's not an actor, babe," I clarified and stroked his arm gently. "That's..." But I trailed off, because when the bloke laughed, a sense of pain erupted in my chest. It was a laugh that had terrorised my head, almost for as long as I could remember. "Jackson," I finished.