Wrong for my Heart [One Direction Story]

Chapter Three

I have posted this story on YT too, but eh, I stopped at some point.... so this is exclusively only on WP ;)

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“Seems like no one is here.” He points out, his eyes observing the room swiftly, before settling on mine again, “So, how about you just get into the bed already?” he motions toward the bed at the side of the room, a smile lingering on his lips. He can’t be without that dazzling smile, I’m telling you!

I nod my head, knowing fighting his opinion would be just a waste of energy; he always gets what he wants. Yeah, he’s spoilt like that. In the best possible way, though. So I lay down on the bed, watching as Louis drags a chair across the room, right next to the bed, his eyes watching me the whole time, as I pull the blanket over most of my body, leaving just my neck and half of my shoulders in sight.

“It’s Harry, right?”

Caught off guard, my eyes flicker toward his, confused, “What…” I say, not knowing how to continue the question that seems stuck in my throat.

“Harry is getting to you…” he explains what conclusion he has come to, “He’s the guy that moved away 3 years ago… so he is your first love.” He says, cruelly hitting the truth with each word. “The one that confessed to you and who you ran away from.”

My eyes widen in shock and confusion. “How…”

“How do I know?” Louis asks, of course reading my mind again, a smile on his lips, this time a bit sorrowful, “I know you best, don’t I, Dem?” he runs a hand through his hazel brown hair, messing it a little, while continuing to talk, “I know from him that he used to live here… you did reveal part of your past and I just concluded, it’s not that hard, really. When seeing the way you two look at each other, it’s pretty obvious, actually.” He chuckles, looking at me with those eyes that pierce through ones soul and reveal all depths and secrets that are meant to be invisible.

I let out a sigh, knowing talking to Louis is useless in this case. He indeed could read me like an open book. I loved and hated it. Yeah, I’m weird like that. But something of his sentence catches me off guard. “What did you just say?” my mouth gaps open, but I can hardly find the words to say, “The way WE look at each other?” I repeat, looking at Louis in utter shock. Harry doesn’t look at me in a specific way. He isn’t. and if I tell myself that, convincing myself of that lie, it will only hurt more.

Louis looks at me, observing my face, “Are you really asking me that, babe?”

I smile slightly by his british accent and the way he adds ‘babe’ or ‘love’ to most of his sentence – at least when talking to me; I truly love it. Though I snap out of my moment of adoration, nodding my head, “Yeah, I’m really asking you that.”

He smiles softly, leaning closer to me, “Love, everyone can see that his eyes don’t follow Selena… they follow you. And as much as you believe he’s got over his first love, I assure you, he has not. Harry Styles is as much in love with you, as you are with hi--“

I nearly shout, interrupting Louis’ midsentence, “DON’T SAY THAT!” I say, much louder than intended, tears forming in my eyes, “Don’t… please… please, don’t say that.” I plead, knowing that at some point, my wishful thinking will convince me of it. And it will hurt – and there’s not much more pain than I can surpass right now. I can’t… I just can’t feel this pain over and over again. I’m not strong enough.

Louis’ eyes are still settled on mine, his hands placed on mine, sorrow in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He instantly says, seeking my gaze. “I shouldn’t have said that… Dem, I’m really sorry. I,” he pauses, his eyes intently resting on mine burning with their cobalt intensity, “Forgive me, please?”