Chasing Empty Spaces

Chapter 4

I'm not queer. I'm not queer. I'm not queer.

The sound of his door opening had him jerking backwards against the headrest. He instantly pressed the heels of his palms against his bloodshot eyes and wiped away the salty sheen. He cleared his throat and dropped his hands, shoulders sagging when he saw Louis gripping the metal frame.

"You - But, you left," Harry sputtered out, his voice full of congestion.

"Yeah, well," Louis scrubbed a hand over his worn face. He stared at the windshield and sighed, "M' not gonna leave you here alone."

Harry cradled his head in his hands and after a moment of silence, he wetly whispered, "Somethings wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you, Harry."

He shook his head, choosing to ignore the amount of earnestness that blanketed Louis' words.

"You don't -"

"I don't...What?" Louis humorlessly laughed. "I don't know how you're feelin'?" He threw in another self-depreciative laugh, "Unless I've been readin' this whole argument wrong, I know exactly how you're feelin', Harry."

Harry dropped his hands to his lap and slowly angled his face towards Louis. The other man was resolutely staring at the fine layer of gravel, wrinkles pinking his forehead. His eyelashes fanned over the height of his cheekbones, hallowing out his face into contoured shadows. The plush of his lips were pressed into a firm line and Harry couldn't help the question at the forefront of his mind.

"You're gay," Harry said barely above a whisper, watching the way Louis faintly flinched. He sucked in a breath and exhaled, "Aren't you?"

Harry wasn't sure what answer would have been worse. If Louis wasn't queer, then Harry was going mentally insane from thinking that there was some form of connection between them that was deeper than being purely platonic. If Louis was queer, well, Harry would be faced with the reality that it was all true and there was a disturbing possibility that he could be too.

Louis raised his jaw, but still didn't meet Harry's eyes. His knuckles were bared white from where they still clutched onto the door of the truck. He tugged at the knot of his bandana and flitted his eyes towards Harry.

"What happens if I say yes?"

Harry's heart was thunderously racing inside of his chest as he watched Louis suck in an expectant breath. He reached towards the floor of the truck and plucked his keys off the matt. Fidgeting with the metal for just a moment, Harry firmly gripped them inside his fist.

"If you tell me the truth," Harry carefully but lowly articulated, "I'll give you the keys."

Louis slowly let out the breath he was holding, eyes darting from Harry's eyes to the hand with the keys in them. His fingers slowly drooped from their place on the door and limply rested by his side. Harry felt as if his entire world was stilted, waiting to turn on a new axis.

"I am."

The metal of the keys dug into Harry's skin as his grip tightened. He blankly nodded once, unsure how to properly register the information over the blood that was surged towards his ears. Unable to say anything, he twisted his body to face Louis and slid out of the car. Louis' eyes were wide and he took a step away from Harry. It was an almost defensive maneuver and Harry didn't even know how to process the reaction. He held out his hand and opened his fist, palm facing towards the night sky.

"Take 'em," Harry barely managed, his voice gravely and almost foreign to his own ears.

Louis carefully removed the keys and looped his finger through the silver ring. He stared at Harry, probably waiting for him to say something else, but Harry didn't have any other words. Whereas his mind was racing for the past half-hour, everything was oddly numb. He figured there was a strong possibility that it was shock and his adrenaline had finally bled him dry.