Caught [l.s] (boyxboy)

Final Chapter

He's still standing up. 

"Louis? You okay?"

"Yeah," he says. There's not a lie in his voice, because yeah, he is okay. He's okay. He's going to be okay. "I guess you're right. I'll... go somewhere. I'll go to the supermarket. What do we need, eggs? Milk?"

"We always need fuckin' eggs, man. You eat them, like, every day. You should try something new for breakfast. Pancakes. Buy pancake mix."

Louis forces out a laugh. "No. I'm not buying pancake mix. I kind of hate pancakes, to be honest."

"Since when?"

"I just don't want to eat them, okay?"

___________

Louis hates the supermarket. With a passion. 

Zayn has written him a list, but his handwriting is messy and the ink smeared from the rain outside; Louis squints at it in frustration. He can't tell if the second item is 'rice' or 'Ritz', so he gets both. 

He's in the freezer section scanning over the frozen pizzas with a dull interest when a hand reaches for the door handle in front of him. He eyes the hand.

"Pardon me," the owner of the hand drawls. Louis steps back robotically, ignoring the man as he continues to look over the pizzas. The man rustles through the freezer, and turns around with a stack of cheese pizzas. He walks away without another word or glance toward Louis, and Louis is glad. He hears the shopping trolley roll away. 

He decides on supreme, because he's feeling extra spontaneous, and wheels to the next freezer aisle. He's deep in thought about what flavor of ice cream to grab, one hand on the door handle, when a much smaller, lighter pops into his view again. Except, this time, it's grabbing for his arm. 

Louis jerks his arm back quickly, looking in surprise at the other. 

"Louis." 

He blinks. "What are you do-"

"It's you." 

"Who are you?"

"Paisley. Duh!" 

Louis pales. "Paisley? As in Paisley An-"

"Hi!" She looks so different, what the fuck. Louis briefly wonders if it's been two months or two years since they've last seen each other. "My daddy told me not to bother you, but I told him you're my friend."

"Uh," Louis is uncomfortable, to say the least. His eyes drift from Paisley's big, bright eyes to the figure that's hurrying toward them, curls in a fucking ponytail and black coat down to his knees. 

"I think this is yours," Louis blurts stupidly when Harry at least reaches them, scooping his daughter into his arms with a pretty blush on his cheeks. 

"Yes, I think so too," Harry replies with just as much embarrassment in his voice. "I told you not to-"

"But he's my friend."

"It's alright, um. I'll just be going, then," Louis' eyes are wide as he whirls around and tries desperately to escape the premises, ice cream forgotten.

"Wait."

Louis tenses when Harry's free hand touches his shoulder lightly. Every cell in his body is screaming at him to relax into the touch, but his brain holds its ground. "Can I - can I just talk to you? Please?" 

"Um, I really don't think that's wise."

"Paisley, go back with your aunt," Harry instructs, like a proper father, Louis swoons a bit; and sets Paisley back on her pink shoe clad feet. She rushes away obediently, and only then does Louis notice that Gemma is standing by the trolley with at least twelve pizzas stacked inside of it - he guesses that Harry being the owner of said trolley is a safe assumption to make.

Harry awkwardly rubs his hands down the back of his trousers as he licks his lips. "So..."

Louis shakes his head. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, I live here."

"At Tesco's?"

"No! I live in town. Y'know."

"Oh. Well, great talk-"

"Louis, I'm serious. There are some things we need to discuss." Harry grabs Louis' wrist to keep him from escaping. Louis fights back a screech at Harry's large fingers. 

"Okay, fine. Then say them."

Harry takes a deep breath. "I miss you." 

"Harry."

"Not. Not like that. Well, yes, like that, but also just in general. I miss having you around, Lou. Even as just a friend. I miss your jokes and your advice... and your everything, really. I hate that we just walked out of each other's lives without saying goodbye. I hate that I didn't understand back then, I do now. I get why you left and I'm sorry, I am. I wish I could go back and stick around, but. This moment, right now, is all I have."

Louis stares at the floor. "You can't just come and steal my heart with a few meaningless words. You've got a family now, one that I'm not supposed to be a part of."

"Please, I'm not asking you to be my boyfriend." Louis glances up at him through his eyelashes. "Just my friend. Please. Paisley's birthday is next weekend. Come to the party with Zayn. I know she'd really appreciate it, and so would I. Just think about it, okay? I want us to be on good terms again. It's the least I can do."

Louis chews on his lower lip anxiously. "How do I know that it won't be too much? Too much for me to sit around and watch you... and her..."

"I guess we won't know until we find out." Louis blinks. 

"What?"

"Just. Please. Come. Okay? Come. There will be cake. And you can see our new place, it's lovely, and you and I can sit down and talk this all out. We can make this work. But right now, I'd really love it if you'd talk to me."

"I don't know what to say. It's like talking to a stranger," Louis says honestly. "It's like I don't even know you. And your daughter is growing at the fucking speed of light, what the hell, how long has it been?"

"Just a few months..."

"It feels like millenniums."

"I know," Harry replies. "I know. You can't tell me that you don't miss me too."

"I don't," Louis snaps. This is, of course, a lie. "I have plenty of friends. I don't need another."

Harry's eyes are sad. "Come on, Lou. Humor me. Come to the party. If you hate it, you'll never have to talk to me again. And I'll leave you alone forever, let you move on for real this time. I won't pop back up. I'll stay away."

"Okay, okay, Jesus," Louis huffs. "Fine, I'll come to the party. But only for a little while. For Paisley, not for you."

"Yeah, okay," Harry tries to say casually, but his entire face is lit up. Louis wants to smack him for being adorable at this time, really. 

"She's a good girl, Harry. I hate to say it, but. You did a good job." 

Harry is already starting to back away, smiling like a bloody fool. "You won't regret this."

"Promise?" Louis asks, and he means it as more of a joke, but.

"Promise."