Larry Stylinson - Buried

Chapter Four - Larry Stylinson - Buried

The next morning when Harry awoke he smiled at the sight of Louis still passed out in the same position in which he fallen asleep in. For an instant he almost drifted back off to sleep, until a loud knock reminded him why had woken up in the first place. Carefully, as to not wake the sleeping boy, Harry crept from the bedroom and ruffled his curls back into place as he opened his front door.

            “Hi,” Eleanor was standing rather sheepishly in the doorway holding a tray of Starbucks cups.

            “Hi?” Harry replied, “Umm what are you doing here?”

            She looked hurt, “Should I come back?”

            Try as he might, Harry could never bring himself to dislike Eleanor. It would make it easier if he could, if he could blame his jealousy of her on a quality she possessed. But the truth of the matter was, Eleanor was one of the kindest people he knew.

            “No no,” he said hurriedly and stepped aside to let her into the apartment. A flood of gratitude spilled onto her face and Harry let her hug him in greeting. When she pulled away she reached for a cup from the tray.

            “Your favorite,” Eleanor said smiling at him, “Two sugars. How’s your head?”

            “Sore,” Harry mumbled and he took the cup from her, “El, why are you here?”

            She looked concerned again, “Did he tell you?”

            Harry nodded and she continued, “Of course he did. Look Harry –“

            “Eleanor?”

            Louis had appeared from the bedroom and he stood looking confused from across the room. Eleanor set down the tray on the counter and hurried over to him. Harry looked around urgently for a way to leave them in peace, but they blocked his exit path. He suddenly busied himself in his cup, staring pointlessly at the tea within as though it were interesting and he attempted to block out their conversation. Why did they have to do this with him in the room?

            “Louis I’m so sorry,” Eleanor was practically begging and she sounded close to tears, “I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there with you. I’m so sorry.”

            Louis was looking down at her and Harry glanced up quickly and was struck by the extent of tenderness in Louis’ eyes as it mingled with uncertainty, “El I just don’t understand.”

            “I know,” she said and her tone was desperate as her hands grasped for his, “I don’t know how to apologize enough Lou. I love you, I’m so sorry.”

            Harry felt slightly sick as he stared down into his hands waiting for Louis to respond. Within his mind an inner war raged. Part of him wanted his best friend to tell her it was too much to forgive. However, a larger part of him, the part, which cared far more for Louis’ wellbeing than his own, knew that Louis needed to forgive her. Despite the fact he felt almost dizzy Harry loved Louis too much to see Louis as upset as he had been the night before. Not to mention, despite the fact it would be simpler if he didn’t feel this way, Harry also couldn’t bring himself to wish that pain on Eleanor either.

            “It’s okay,” Louis whispered to her, and Harry felt increasingly awkward as he intruded on the intimate moment between the reconciling couple. Neither Louis nor Eleanor seemed to remember he was in the room. Her whole body relaxed in response to his words and Harry thought he could hear her breathing become uneven.