Chasing Empty Spaces

Chapter 7

Harry stared at what was left of his Southside, resolutely not meeting Niall’s eyes.

“When did you stop trustin’ me?”

He wanted to curl up in bed and cry at the amount of loss that smeared Niall’s tone.

“Ni, I do –”

“Stop lying!” Niall practically shouted, snatching Harry’s attention. “You wanna hide shit from me? Fine,” He bitterly gritted. “Whenever you decide to be a good friend,” Niall disappointedly shook his head and stood from his chair, “Let me know.”

Harry gaped at Niall’s empty seat for what seemed like an endless stretch of minutes. Every word that Niall bit out managed to strangle Harry’s insides. When it came down to it, Niall wasn’t wrong. The sharp cut of his nails bled into the caps of his knees and the urge to flight climbed along the lining of his gut. Harry had been keeping truths from Niall since they met. He fostered the way how listening to Niall talk about money made him feel. He harbored the way he felt nothing towards the women Niall set him up with. Harry thoughtlessly swallowed the fact that he going steady with a man. There was never even the possibility of him telling Niall an ounce of truth because of his own self-induced fears. Harry cradled his head in his hands as it dawned upon him that he had never given Niall the chance to prove him wrong.

“Stud, everythin’ alright?”

Harry shook his head, feeling his throat constrict his words.

“Hey,” Louis lowered his voice and hovered directly by Harry’s side. The tip of his elbow brushed Harry’s, “Harry, c’mon, what’s going on?”

Harry ground his teeth together and felt an ache build along his jawline.

“We should go,” Zayn’s voice carried over the voices in Harry’s head.

“Yeah,” Louis agreed and delicately touched Harry’s bicep. “Do you wanna come to my place?”

Harry nodded and let his palms heavily slip from his face. Although tears started to sting his eyes, he refused to cry. He couldn’t do that. Louis was watching him was a palpable amount of worry, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Numbly, Harry stood from the stool and walked towards the exit. He didn’t have to glance over his shoulder to know that Louis and Zayn were closely following behind him. Fishing his keys from his pocket, Harry offered them to Louis.

“You can just drop me at the shop,” Zayn mumbled.

A wave of gratitude passed over Harry, knowing that he wouldn’t have to explain himself in front of Zayn. Even though their relationship had significantly improved, he didn’t want Zayn to hang around. Harry wanted Louis.

The drive to the shop was quiet, no one bothering to hold surface-level conversation. Harry’s eyes blankly attached to the horizon of passing farmland. Fireflies flickered over crops in delicate bursts of light. Under any other circumstance, he would have asked Louis to pull over so they could run around like schoolchildren and catch them in mason jars.

“Night, fellas,” Zayn quietly said as he climbed out of the truck.

Louis said something in response, but Harry wasn’t really listening.

“Baby?”

That was enough to finally get Harry to look over the center counsel.

Frown-lines carved along the edges of Louis’ mouth. He reached over and held his hand over, palm faced upwards. Harry felt the knots of his spine untangle as he threaded his fingers with Louis’. A twitch quirked the right side of Louis’ lips and then he reassuringly squeezed Harry’s hand.