Fine line (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 11

Louis looked at me now, swaying uncontrollably on the side walk, lifting his hand to point in my direction.

"You want to know the worst part?"

At this point, I had already whipped out my phone to order an Uber.

"No, Louis, I really don't."

Apparently though, it was a rhetorical question, because he went on.

"This worst part, Harry," he said between hiccups, "is that you know that it's bullshit. I can tell."

I remained silent, but lifted my eyes from my phone to meet his, which were glassy and wide with adrenaline.

"You're scared," he went on, "You're still so scared. I can tell, I can see it."

"Stop."

My voice was hoarse and dripping with malice. I knew he was drunk, but he was completely out of hand. Every word he spat felt like a needle proving at my skin.

And still, he went on.

"You're faming it, Harry. The confidence, the comfortability, all of it."

He let the cigarette fall to the ground, and sloppily stomped it out with his foot, before stepping closer to me.

I could smell the alcohol on his lips, putrid and acidic, and I could almost feel his breath against my skin.

My palms were shaking, heavy with sweat and with anticipation. My heart was pounding in my chest, screaming at me both in warning and in yearning.

Louis looked at me for a long moment before he let his final words leave his lips.

"I may be a coward, Harry, but you're the terrified one."

I felt my chest combust, and I felt the anger inside of me scream.

Slowly, I took one large step toward him, and made sure not to break the contact in our eyes. We were so close now, but he did t back away. He kept his stance, his eyes still burning into mine with an unknown emotion.

"I know you, Harry. You know I do."

I parted my lips slowly, and leaned into him.

For a moment, Louis's eyes fluttered shut and I could feel him leaning closer to me.

"Steven will be here in five minutes. Pull yourself together," I spat, and turned from him.

I could almost feel him deflate behind me, and I felt a sense of pride flutter in my chest.

"Who the hell is steven?"

His voice was different now, rawer, hoarser. He sounded vulnerable.

I turned, one last time, simultaneously unlocking my door.

Louis looked smaller, his eyes wider, with his fingers touching his lips ever so lightly.

"Your Uber driver."

I spoke without emotion now, determined not to let him see the damage he had done. He didn't deserve that, the pride, the confidence.

"It's a black jeep wrangler."

He nodded, tearing his eyes away from me, focusing on something I couldn't see.

"Goodnight, Louis."

I didn't stay to hear his response.

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It was only after I heard his car drive away that I let myself collapse.

Hot tears stung my eyes and coated my cheeks in salty despair. Snot bubbled in my nostrils and ran down to my chin. I was pathetic. I was broken.

But most of all, I was so unbelievably stupid.

How could I have thought that it would've went any other way? How could I have thought he'd be the same after all these years? That he'd still be the man I knew, the man I loved?

He was not someone I knew, not the man I saw tonight.

Using the sleeve of my shirt I wiped my face and nose, knowing damn well I'd have to repeat the process several more times tonight

I must've looked pathetic. Hell, I felt pathetic.

I felt empty, but at the same time so filled with rage and despair. I felt broken and beaten down, and at the sane time doused so heavily with hatred.

His words played over and over in my head, each reiteration cutting me deeper. I sobbed, deep and loud from my chest, heaving through the tears.

What he said had cut me deep, paralyzed me and left me bare. But at the end of the day, he was right.

I was terrified. I was faking it, all of it. I was lying to everyone. I knew that, but I didn't think it was so goddamn obvious.

That wasn't even the worst part, though.

The worst part, the thought that I'd been pushing away since it entered my head - the fact that I still aches to be close to him, the fact that his touch still set off car alarms in my body, the fact that it took everything in me not to do anything stupid - that was the worst part.

That was the part that killed me.