Be My Eyes || Larry Stylinson

t w e l v e

chapter twelve 

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It seemed as though it was a habit for Niall now to always go to Harry when he was nervous, or just needed a friend. Harry didn't mind at all; he finally felt like he was in the circle of friends that he had somehow walked straight into. Of course, Harry didn't know that he was practically in the middle of the cirlce - everyone loved him, even if they hated to admit it. Louis, however, was a different story. Everyone - well, except for Niall - was convinced that he despised the curly haired lad.

Harry had just gotten of the phone with a very flustered Irish man.

"Harry?"

"Niall, what do you want?"

"Sorry to bother - I just. Zayn."

"What'd he do? Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah. He just - he surprised me."

"How so, Niall?"

"He asked me to - he told me to go out with him tonight."

"That's great! He doesn't hate you then."

"I guess - but. You know never mind. I'll talk to you later, mate."

"Bye."

"Oh - oh wait. Harry could you do me a favor?"

"I won't tell Louis. We barely speak, anyways."

"No - I mean - well Lou is involved. But, could you check up on him? He seemed fairly shaken up."

"Uhm- yeah, alright."

"Thanks, bro."

Now, he was on his way to Louis' flat based upon Niall's instructions. Exit complex. Take a left. Cross street. Turn right. Go straight. Cross street again. Enter building. Fifth floor. Turn right. Third door on your left. 

"Louis?" Harry knocked on the door, wanting nothing more than to go home. The door clicked, someone clearing their throat. "Um, is Louis Tomlinson here?"

Harry felt like such a child; he couldn't even make it look like he knew what he was doing. His hands shook slightly at the silence between him and this person that was standing in front of him - that is, if there was a person there.

"Harry, what do you want?" The annoyed tone of the one and only Doncaster boy was now speaking. "Hurry up now, I haven't got all day."

"Niall wanted me to - " Harry was cut off.

"I'm just fine, now you can leave." Harry stood there, not making any movement towards the staircase. He did not climb up five flights of stairs just to be sent right back down them again. And he didn't walk a quarter of a mile just to be told to walk all the way back. 

"Louis, he sounded worried." Harry spoke, just about ready to shy away if he got yelled at.

"Bullshit, I'm fine. Just leave."

"But -"

"Harry, go. Get out of here. Go crawl back into your little safe hole filled with absolute fucking nothingness where you belong. No one asked you to come here, man. No one asked for a blind kid to enter a university with us. No one asked you to have this weird fucking obsession with me. No one wants you, Harry. Get it through your blind ass fucking head." Louis ranted, pushing Harry back, making the younger boy stumble. Harry flinched at the contact, nodding solemnly.

Louis stared at his hands, and if he were looking in a mirror he'd be staring at himself in disgust. He was talking to a guy that had let him stay the night because he was scared of a little thunder. Louis was speaking to the nicest man he'd ever met and all he'd done was scare him off; and when Harry looked up, Louis wanted to cry. For the first time since he'd met him, Harry held an expression you could read even if you looked into his dull eyes: hurt.