Chasing Empty Spaces

Chapter 7

Harry frowned at the comparison, “This is nothin’ like that.”

“I know, Stud,” Louis nodded and petted over Harry’s chest. “I just don’t wanna jump into things too fast when we’ve only just started goin’ steady,” He murmured. Louis tilted his head to the side, “You’re talkin’ about sleepin’ and waking up together – Harry, that’s not somethin’ we should already be worrying about. It’s still the beginning, yeah? Let’s enjoy the falling bit instead of being sad over things like that.”

“The falling bit?” He asked, voice quieter than before.

“Yeah,” Louis softly said, tender smile jaunting the corner of his mouth, “The bit where we get to fall for each other.”

Heat flushed through his cheeks and he looked down, hands fidgeting in his lap. The corner of his lips twitched upwards until they were unfurrowing into a toothy grin, “Yeah, okay. The falling bit.”

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle and let out a nearly inaudible sigh. Harry circled his arms over Louis’ shoulders and minutely rocked them from side to side.

“M’ yours, too,” Harry mumbled. He pressed his lips against Louis’ temple, “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Louis nodded and nuzzled into Harry’s neck, “I know, baby.”

****

For someone who was meant to be taking things slowly, Harry found himself thinking of Louis more times than not during the following four days. The moment Zayn dropped him off at the Dempsey’s parking lot, a part of Harry already ached to clamber back inside the truck and kiss Louis goodbye for a third time. It was an incessant trill that unnervingly kept him on edge, making him restless during his lessons at the plantation. When he shadowed his father at the firm, his attention would narrow on a painting that hung above his father’s desk because the swooping paintbrush strokes reminded him of Louis’ eyelashes.

It wasn’t necessarily dependency that he was feeling. Or, at least Harry didn’t think it was. What it came down to was the indisputable fact that Louis had become his favorite person. Harry didn’t see why he should waste his time with anyone else. Especially when other people involved his parents and Faye.

On his third day back from Atlanta, Harry begrudgingly found himself sitting on a stiff chair in the center of the Mason’s manicured garden. Due to a reason that was beyond Harry, the two families had decided that brunch was in order. It was positively ridiculous seeing as how it was a Wednesday afternoon and Harry reckoned that there wasn’t any legitimate reason to be toasting with lavish champagne. Nevertheless, he played the part that he had been groomed for since infancy. Harry politely smiled at the correct cues, tossed in a laugh at Mrs. Mason’s quips and openly admired Mr. Mason’s business plans. He barely paid any mind to Faye, but, Harry internally reasoned that nobody could be perfect. At the end of the night, he kissed the women’s cheeks and shook Mr. Mason’s hand.

His parents were thrilled.

Come Friday evening, Harry was intently staring at the grandfather clock. His bottom lip was sucked between his teeth and a set of keys twitchily jingled between his fingers. He rocked his weight from foot to foot, polished shoes picking up a reflection of an overhead chandelier. Once the smaller hand slid over the number nine, Harry sprinted from the foyer. The clock rang out in his wake, his mother’s voice shrilling not far off. Harry didn’t bother to stop, the first genuine smile slipping onto his face at the knowledge that he was about to see Louis.

When Louis and Zayn expressed interest in going to Harry’s next gig, he was quick to offer them a ride. He sped the entire way to the garage, humid air licking over his skin as crickets sang. A slick onyx jacket clung to his shoulders, tugging over his muscles as he turned the steering wheel. Dirt puffed up into a cloud of smoke when he jerked to a halt in the parking lot. Smoothing his hands over the lapels of his suit, Harry looked out the driver window.