Chasing Empty Spaces

Chapter 5

The following morning, Harry woke to the sporadic sound of splashing water.

He was slightly disoriented by his surroundings as the morning sun enveloped him with a heat that usually couldn't reach his bed. He frowned as realization dawned upon him that wood was digging into the knots of his spine rather than the plush of his mattress. Scrubbing a film of sleep from his eyes, Harry lethargically stretched his back until it formed a perfect arch. Dropping back down with a lazy grace, he opened his eyes.

Endless blue skies stretched overhead and cardinals were already darting in front of the pouty clouds. As the pearly clouds bubbled to form cumulus shapes, events from the night before slowly trickled back into Harry's conscious. They were unavoidable underneath the light of day and Harry was surprised that his heart hadn't already started to erratically thrum inside of his chest.

The pads of his fingertips bore into the dock in fruitless attempts to ground himself. Before Niall's comment, Harry had never questioned a single facet of his own sexuality. He always assumed that the reason he wasn't interested by the women who lived in town was because they weren't interesting enough. Or pretty enough. Or smart enough. Just enough of anything at all.

Then there was Louis.

Pushing aside the instinctive disgust that Harry felt towards himself, he could internally admit that there wasn't one other person who ever made him feel the way Louis did. When Louis looked at him, he saw Harry as his own entity, not a trust fund. When Louis spoke to him, he didn't coddle Harry, but he didn't degrade Harry's feelings either. When Louis listened to him, there was an earnest amount of fascination that curled the curves of his lips.

When Harry had essentially dejected Louis in the parking lot, Louis came back for him.

Louis treated Harry the way that he always wished someone would.

Tears pricked the corner of his eyes and his nails bit into the wooden plank underneath of him. His cheeks puffed out as he shakily exhaled, urging his fears to dissipate with the next breath.

Louis was beautiful.

Harry gritted his teeth together as a mental catalogue of Louis' profile pushing its way to the forefront of his thoughts. Every detail was crystalized into perfection inside of his memory. Harry wasn't prepared to consider, let alone admit, that what he felt was sexual attraction. For that morning, he could reconcile with the basic truth that Louis was stunning. He mulled over the notion that just because he cared for Louis, that didn't necessarily make him gay. Louis was an exception. He didn't have to count. White flecks danced over his vision once he opened his eyes.

Two thoughts continuously rolled through his mind, looping in a relentlessly steady pattern.

1. Louis was gay and he cared for Harry in ways that were not socially acceptable.

2. Harry was straight and he cared for Louis in ways that were not socially acceptable.

He closed his eyes again and focused on keeping his breathing even. Harry deeply inhaled through his nose, practically tasting the honeysuckles that grew along the brush. Holding his breath for three seconds, he slowly exhaled through parted lips. Hesitantly, he lolled his head to the left and blinked open his eyes, expecting to see Louis' sleeping figure by his side. In place of the other man, all that laid there was a pile of discarded clothes. At the sound of another lap of water, Harry carefully pushed himself upright, brows furrowed together.

Harry's jaw slackened at the sight of Louis wading in the lake, water licking just above the dip of his spine. The sun had painted him a golden hue, water droplets clinging to his skin as they reflected an iridescent glimmer. Muscles along his arms flexed as he stretched and rolled his shoulders back. Louis dropped his hands against the water's surface, cupping them together to wash off his face.