Scared (L.S)

four

Harry sat through his math class, distracted. Usually, math was one of the classes Harry enjoyed most. The teacher really understood him and never forced him to participate or work with anyone else, so long as he did all his work and came to class on time, but that wasn't a problem for Harry. Until today.

Harry just couldn't focus on the worksheet in front of him. He stared at the function on his paper, glancing up to where his teacher was explaining the topic on the projector, but his mind kept drifting to Louis.

Why had he held his hand?

Why did he try to get Harry to walk the last bit to school?

Why had he picked Harry up in the first place?

To be honest, Harry hadn't thought Louis was gay, but given his actions in the past 24 hours, Harry wasn't so sure anymore. He had kissed the side of his head, for fuck's sake. And held his hand, that's, like, super gay, Harry thought. Harry really couldn't focus at all.

Aside from the obvious confusion linked to Louis' indecipherable actions that Harry was feeling, he was also distracted by his usual thoughts of Louis. Now Harry's crush on the older boy, the one he had had since year 10, had never been glaringly present. However, given the time that Harry had now spent with the boy, he had much more material to daydream about. Before, every time he thought of the older boy, it had to do with his eyes or the way his calf muscles rippled as he played footie or the crinkles beside his eyes as he laughed. Now though, Harry thought of the stories that Louis had told him yesterday, picturing the way he most likely acts with his younger sisters, and of the pounding in Harry's chest as Louis pulled him in for a hug or held his hand.

Because of these thoughts, Harry was filled with gratitude as the bell rang, signalling the end of class.

Harry couldn't help but feel slightly nervous about going to his next class, English, because of the way he had left Louis' car that morning. To be honest, Harry was less scared that Louis would be upset with him and more scared that the older boy may just ignore him completely. As much as Harry wanted to just walk out of the building and skip class altogether, he knew he couldn't just avoid Louis forever, and frankly, he would rather know sooner if the older boy never wanted to speak to him again.

So Harry, with his headphones fastened securely in his ears blasting some random indie song walked quickly down the stairs to his English class. Without glancing up as he walked into the room, he rushed to his seat and focused on a pencil sketch of an eye on his desk.

Normally Harry would keep his headphones in until he heard the bell ring. It was fairly loud and usually overpowered any noise-cancellation possible. Today though, perhaps it was because Harry was so caught up in his thoughts of Louis, or maybe his music was just a tad bit louder than usual, but he didn't hear the bell. He didn't even know that class had started until he saw a hand slam down on his desk, accompanied by a very loud, "Mr. Styles."

Harry immediately jumped in his seat and pulled his headphones from his ears, heart racing. His teacher was standing in front of him as the rest of the class stared at him. Harry couldn't breathe. "Mr. Styles, you know the rules. Why would you have your headphones in when class has begun?"

Now Harry wanted to explain to his teacher, he really did. He would have explained that he just didn't hear the bell and how it would never happen again. But Harry couldn't breathe. He could see his teacher's lips moving and he could see his class staring at him, but he couldn't hear anything over the ringing in his ears as he struggled to breathe. He just couldn't take anything in, it was as if someone was pressing into his chest.

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, speeding up as his teacher's expression changed into that of confusion. And Harry couldn't take it anymore. He bolted out of class.

Luckily for Harry, his English class was right beside the stairwell, allowing him to slip right out into the warm September air. However, even with the sun shining on his face, Harry couldn't breathe. He slid down against the wall, feeling faint as tears blurred his vision.

And just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, he felt a familiar hand press against his arm. Harry turned to see Louis with an expression that could only be described as heartbroken. Harry tried to say something, but all that came out was a heaved breath.

"Harry," Louis said, slowly pulling the younger boy so Harry was resting on his lap, both legs on one side of Louis' thighs and his head on his shoulder, "Shhh, you're okay."

Louis softly rubbed his back, fingers skimming lightly over his spine, hoping that his soothing gestures would calm the boy down. And he was right because minutes after that, Harry's breathing returned to normal, that was until a sob racked through the younger boy's body.

"I'm sorry," sobbed Harry.

Louis hugged the younger boy closer and pressed his face into his hair. "Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for."