Harry
The arms of the clock across the room rotate agonizingly slow, taunting me with the way they can't seem to move fast enough.
Barbara has trusted Liam, Ed, and me enough to let us close up. Today's her birthday, and the rest of the ladies wanted to take her out for a nice dinner, so we were happy to take the burden off of them.
The rest of the bakery is nice and tidy, machines turned off, dishes washed and dried, and ingredients in their rightful places. The lobby has a slight hum of music played from the speaker of Ed's phone and the hushed sound of broom bristles sweeping against the hardwood, Liam seeming to take his sweeping very seriously.
"We got any muffins left, H?" Ed asks, appearing from the back corridor with his apron balled up in hand. I nod, sliding open the door of the glass display case and retrieving a banana nut muffin from the tray, placing it on a napkin for Ed.
"Liam, you want one?" I ask, Liam glancing up from the floor, the tip of his tongue peeking out from in between his pursed lips. You give Liam a task, and he'll focus on said task as if his life depended on it. It's quite endearing, really. Earlier Ed asked him to heat his soup for lunch and Liam spent 10 minutes making sure it wasn't too hot nor too cold.
"Yes, please," he says with a gratifying smile and walks over to the counter where Ed and I stand.
"So lads, did you guys have a nice Christmas?" Ed asks through a mouthful of his muffin.
"Mhm," Liam murmurs, holding up a finger for us to wait as he swallows his food. "Went up north to spend the holidays with Amelia."
"Who's Amelia?" Ed and I ask simultaneously, both of us smiling at the minor mistake.
"My girlfriend," Liam says shyly with a hint of a smile gracing over his blushed cheeks.
"Well, I'll be damned!" Ed cheers. "Liam went and got himself a little girlfriend! Can you believe it, H?" He delights.
"Congratulations, Li," I whisper, placing a hand on Liam's and giving the shy boy a sincere smile. We aren't that close since we don't go to the same school, but he's still pleasant company to have around.
I walk over to the cash register, balancing it out and locking it up for the night as Ed speaks up once again.
"What about you, H? You have a good Christmas?"
I look at him and muster up a smile, breathing deeply before I begin. "Yeah, spent it with my mum and my sister. Nice family time." This isn't a complete lie, I spent it with them, but it's just not the entire truth. He doesn't need to know the details.
Louis' been gone for days. After our confrontation on Monday, he's been gone ever since. I still look for him. A glare to his vacant seat in English, a glance over to his usual lunch table with Zayn, but to no avail. Yesterday I nearly asked Zayn where the hell he was, but I realized it wasn't my job anymore. Whatever he's doing, whoever he's with, it doesn't concern me anymore.
We work in silence for a little while longer, finishing up our last tasks before it's time to clock out.
"Come on guys, I'll lock up," Liam says, grabbing our coats and handing them to us. We usher out the door, Liam closing it behind us and locking up.
I turn on my heel to look for my mum's car. She said she'd be here to pick me up, but her car is nowhere in sight.
And while I'm not looking forward to waiting in the harsh wind and subtle snowfall, I'm grateful, because the sight I'm met with instead is a lot more appealing.
"Harry, just the guy I wanted to see," Mitch says with a beaming smile etched into his cheeks.
"Hey you," I smile, pulling the slender boy in for a tight hug. He returns the gesture, wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulders and squeezing me against his body.
We've been getting closer these last few days, ever since his apology. The time that's typically occupied by Louis is now filled up by Mitch and It's something I'm truly grateful for. Being around him is very simple. I don't have to pick his brain to know what he's thinking, he'll just say it. I could get used to having him around.
"What are you doing here?" I ask once we break the hug. I ignore the definite stares from Liam and Ed because I already know what the both of them are thinking.
"Well, I've been a bit bored today, figured we could go do something? Maybe get some food, hang out at my place?" Mitch offers, quickly and casually swiping his thumb over my cheek to remove something I didn't even know was there.
"I'd love to, but I'm so exhausted. We've been working all day. Can I take a rain check?" I say with a smile, stuffing my freezing hands into the pockets of my jacket.
"Sure, you got a day in mind?"
"How about tomorrow? I'll get home at around 4 so we can hang out for a few hours," I explain, Mitch nodding. "You still have my address in your phone?"
"Yeah. Hopefully, I get to use it this time," He jokes and I'm surprised that I'm actually able to laugh at it.
"Great, I'll see you tomorrow then."
"See you tomorrow, H," he smiles, giving me another hug before walking back over to his car. I smile as I watch him leave. I turn around, gasping quietly at the sight of Ed and Liam watching me with a knowing grin.
"Don't start," I say with a roll of my eyes.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say Harry's got himself a little date."
"It's not like that. Can't two people just hang out without there being something more going on?" I defend, glancing over at the bus stop on the corner. I don't feel like waiting for my mum to show up so I might as well just take the bus.
"Well, either way, I'm glad to see you aren't hanging out with Louis anymore. That guy's seriously fucked up. You know he told everyone at your school that my friend did something to him? Nate hardly glanced in the guy's direction, and he accused him of taking advantage of him. What a fucking weirdo."
I open my mouth to defend him, and truly I was going to do it. The words were right there on the tip of my tongue, ready to spew. But I can't help but feel like it isn't my place anymore. If it were a month ago, I'd tell Ed to fuck off and not speak about something he knows nothing about, but as I said, it's not my place anymore.
So I bite my tongue, nod once, and say a quick goodbye before heading over to the bus stop for my ride home.
---
I sigh at the warmth of our house the minute I walk through the door, shrugging off my coat and hanging it on the hook by our door. Mum walks in from the kitchen, holding her phone up to her ear as she talks into it. She looks at me confusedly before glancing at the clock in the kitchen and facepalming.
"I'm so sorry love, I didn't realize what time it was," she whispers, holding the phone away from her ear.
"'s alright," I smile at her. "Who are you talking to?" I ask.
"Your grandmother."
I tilt my head to the side, eyes squinted as my mum shrugs it off. Her mother passed a few years ago, so that means she's on the phone with my father's mother. It's strange to me we're still expected to keep contact with that side of the family, considering my father's absence, but I don't comment on it.
Instead, I tell mum to tell her I said hello before going into the kitchen, grabbing a snack, and disappearing into my bedroom. Grabbing a few clothes, I head into the bathroom for a quick shower.
The hot water aided the ache of my muscles after a strenuous day of work and I sigh heavily as I crawl into bed, curling up into the blankets and resting my head against the pillow. I figure now is as good of a time as ever to call Gemma, seeing as how I haven't talked to her since she left and we made a deal I'd call her more.
I wait patiently as the line rings, twisting the loose thread of my blanket around my index finger and staring out at the night sky.
"Harry!" Gemma cheers, the sound of a door closing in the background.
"Hey Gem," I say with a genuine smile.
"I was just about to call you. How've you been?"
"I'm alright. Just got home from work. I'm pretty exhausted," I mutter through a yawn, and I'm suddenly finding it extremely difficult to keep my eyes open.
"Aw, you didn't have to call if you were tired," she replies sympathetically. "I'm a bit tired too. Had a presentation due today so I've been busy all day"
"You should get some sleep," I advise.
"Nah, I have some work I need to get done, but I'll be alright. Have you talked to he who shall not be named?"
I chuckle humorlessly, darting my tongue out to wet my lips before speaking. "He came up to me a few days ago. He apologized and tried to explain, but stormed out when I didn't accept it." I explain, a knot forming in my stomach at the memory of it all.
I stood there in shock as the double doors closed behind him, Niall having to physically come to pull me away from the wall because I couldn't stop staring at the place he was standing in moments before. Everything he said was meaningless bullshit. He did what he always does, said what he thought I needed to hear so I'd forgive him. But not this time.
"That asshole's got some nerve, you know? I mean after everything, he thinks you'll just forgive him? Just like that?" she scoffs and I nod, not paying attention to the fact that she cannot see me.
A small part of me, so small it nearly doesn't exist, wishes I could forgive him. It'd be easier to forgive than to go through the grueling battle of getting over and forgetting him, but I don't care what's easiest.
At some point, I've gotta stand up for myself. If I forgave him, it'd only be a matter of time before he fucked up again. We'd be fine for a while, kisses and cuddles and talks of the future we so desperately crave until something bad inevitably happens. It's a tale as old as time, a tiring game of back and forth until both of us can barely recognize who the other person is anymore. I'm tired of it, and I'm surprised he isn't too.
"Harry? You still there?" Gemma questions, pulling me away from my thoughts.
"Yeah sorry, dozed off for a second."
"Why don't you get some sleep? Just text me in the morning." I agree, saying a goodbye to Gemma before hanging up and rolling over, sleep taking over me in a matter of seconds.
---
I rush in through my front door, not even stopping to say hello to Mum who's sitting idly on the couch. I told Mitch I'd be ready at around 4, which gives me exactly 5 minutes to get ready. The bus from work came late, so now I'm left with no choice but to rush around like a madman.
I scurry into my room, changing into a pair of skinnies and a white t-shirt. I nearly reach for my old trainers, but I stopped myself. After deciding I was a bit tired of having to wrap duct-tape around my shoes every day, I went and got two fresh pairs.
I decide on the black boots I bought, choosing to leave the vans for another time. I'm in the middle of pulling on my left boot when mum peeks her head in through the door.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" She laughs.
"A friend of mine is picking me up in a few minutes. Hope you don't mind," I say, standing to my feet and walking around a bit, hoping to break in the new shoes.
"No not at all," she answers, sitting on my bed and watching me intently as I grab my phone and wallet. "Do I know this friend?"
"No, his name is Mitch. Met him on my first day of school."
"Why haven't you brought him around sooner?"
"Never had the chance, I suppose," I say, sparing her the details. She knows the entire story with all the excruciating details of 'he who shall not be named' ruining my friendship with Mitch, so I'm a bit surprised she can't seem to remember, but her mind is always elsewhere so I don't take it personally.
"You look really nice, honey," mum says, rising to her feet and adjusting the collar of my coat. "I'm glad to see you're getting back out there, you know?"
I nod and smile sheepishly at my feet. Her definition of 'getting back out there' may differ from mine, but the point still stands. I'm getting through this. It isn't easy, far from it, but I'm still managing and I think that's really fucking impressive.
"You've always been so beautiful, Harry. I feel as though your father and I never told you that enough. He was firm in his belief that a boy couldn't be beautiful. He always said boys can only be handsome, but I just don't think that's fitting for you," she says with a tired roll of her eyes and a clench of her jaw. "But you truly are such a beautiful soul. I couldn't be prouder of you, love."
"Mum," I say through a sad chuckle, wiping a tear from my eye with the pad of my thumb and allowing her to pull me into a warm hug. I've finally allowed her to get closer to me. There are things she doesn't know, and maybe one day she will, but I don't want to be the one to break it to her that the man she married was the man who destroyed every piece of me he could get his hands on.
A loud knock on the door startles the both of us, mum beaming brightly at me and dashing out of my room to get the door. The way she did on the night of my first date with Louis. That same excitement in her eyes and the familiar skip in her step. I hope she isn't taking my friendship with Mitch to mean more than what it actually is.
I glance around the room to make sure I have everything I need before leaving my bedroom and joining mum in the living room.
Mitch stands formally in the center of the room, mum glancing between the two of us with a smile so big her cheeks might fall off.
"There he is," Mitch beams, meeting me in the middle of the floor and bringing me in for a quick hug. "I would've dressed up nicer if I knew you were going to dress like this." He quips.
I look down at my attire. Black jeans and boots with a navy blue sweater and black peacoat. I didn't think of it be fancy, just thick enough to guard me from the cold winter outside, but I still smile shyly at his shameless comment.
"Well, we should get going then," I say.
Mitch nods once before turning his attention to mum's watchful gaze. "It was lovely to meet you, Anne," he says, mum nodding and ushering us to the door. Mitch is very charming, it's one thing I first noticed about him, so it doesn't surprise me that mum already likes him so much despite only having a quick 10-second conversation.
I follow him out to his car, climbing into the passenger side and sitting comfortably in the seat.
"So I figured we could go hang out and eat some food or something. This Italian place has the best fucking lasagna I've ever had so we're gonna grab that and just hang out at my place. Is that cool?" He explains as he reverses out of the driveway, his hand pressed to the back of my headrest.
"Yeah. Works for me," I shrug. "Cool," he smiles, turning on the radio and drumming his fingers lightly against the wheel as he drives throughout the streets.
---
We pull in front of an Italian restaurant, my eyes lighting up as I recognize the place, along with the name.
"Gisueppes'?" I ask, turning my head toward Mitch.
"Mhm," he says, not looking up to me until silence takes over. "Do you not like the food here?"
"No no. I just know the owner, that's all."
He stares at me with furrowed brows before shaking his head slowly and chuckling to himself. "Of course you do," he says, gripping the car door handle. "Come on, Styles." And I follow in his footsteps, climbing out of the car and joining him on the sidewalk.
We make our way through the outside dining area, smiling occasionally at the customers who glance over to us in between bites of their delicious food.
I nearly trip over the cobblestone walkway, Mitch quick on the rebound to grip my arm and keeping me steady as we walk. I gasp quietly as his hand finds its way to the small of my back, leading me through the crowd and into the front door, but he stills keeps a hand on me.
We walk to a small pickup counter; the woman waiting for us to speak with a smile on her cheeks. "Pickup order for Rowland please," Mitch requests. The young woman nods and turns into the kitchen to pick up our order, her ponytail swinging with each step.
We stand idly in front of the small podium, waiting for our order to be ready. "Can't wait to eat. I've been thinking about this lasagna all day," he says, leaning in close to my ear. I nod excitedly, the loud growl of my stomach seems to agree with him.
I look around the restaurant as we wait, looking for nothing in particular until my eyes land on a familiar face.
"I'll be right back, okay?" I say, Mitch nodding and stepping back, allowing me to walk over to the beautiful woman who converses with a guest in a booth.
I tap her shoulder, Cascina turning around to greet me and breaking out into a huge grin once she recognizes me.
"Harry!" she cheers a little too loudly, but I just smile and allow her to bring me in for a warm embrace.
"Let me look at you," she says, keeping her hands on my shoulders as her eyes seem to scan me. "You look different! Nice and sharp" she says regarding my new attire. It differs greatly from what I used to wear, but I like it. Makes me look a bit older, I think.
"It's the new clothes."
"No, it's because the last time I saw you, you looked like you were ready to lie in traffic," she laughs and I cover my mouth as I do the same.
In the middle of our fit of laugher, a strong hand places itself on the small of my back yet again, and I smile at Mitch who stands casually beside me. Cascina watches with a subtle smirk on her lipstick covered lips, hands placed firmly on her hips.
"And who is this?" she asks coyly.
"Cascina this is my friend Mitch. Mitch this is Cascina." They exchange pleasantries with polite smiles but Cascina still smirks knowingly when she glances between the two of us.
"Do you guys need a table?" she offers.
"No no, we're just picking up our order," Mitch chimes in, holding up the bag of food before turning his attention to me, his deep brown eyes meeting mine. "I'm gonna go wait in the car. Take your time alright?" he says and I nod before he exits the way we came.
I smile shyly to myself, not even noticing the way Cascina doesn't seem to take her eyes off of me.
"So is that the guy?" she questions, referring to the boy who had me absolutely shattered upon me and Cascina's first meeting.
"No no, he's just a friend. Me and the other guy are done." I explain, following Cascina as she makes her rounds throughout the restaurant, making sure everyone's doing alright.
"I see," she nods. "So have you talked to...?" she trails off, waiting for me to remind her of his name.
"Louis," I say, noting the sharp edge of my tone.
"Right. Have you talked to this Louis boy?"
I nod, explaining our encounter earlier in the week, and even describing how Jay came and dropped off my belongings. Cascina listens thoughtfully, sitting down onto a small red sofa in the corner and leaving room for me to sit next to her.
"You miss him?" she says after a moment of silence, taking a sip from her small glass.
"I'm doing alright."
"That's not what I asked," she counters. "I asked if you missed him."
I stare at the red wine-colored carpet. I don't want to say yes. Saying yes would mean that all the progress I've been trying to make would be for nothing. I'd be admitting something so personal, so vulnerable. To admit my feelings of longing for the boy who manipulated me from the moment he got the chance would be the weakest thing I've ever done.
But to say no...well that would be me slamming the door on him for the last time. Saying no would be that final nail in the coffin of whatever we were. I can't miss him, it's too painful to miss him. It's not a matter of if I do or if I don't...I just can't.
"I'll let your silence be your answer," she says. "What about Mitch? He's attractive enough, appears to not be a complete joke of a man. The guy fancies you. Could be worth a shot, you know?"
I scoff, shaking my head mindlessly and staring down at my boots.
"I'm serious," she defends. "Listen, when I found out my ex-wife was cheating, there wasn't a bed in town that I hadn't slept in. I mean if there was an attractive woman in the same vicinity as me, I made it my business to sleep with her."
"I see, and why exactly are you telling me this?" I joke. I may enjoy her company, but I'm not quite ready to hear her lesbian horror stories.
"Be quiet and listen," she swats my arm. "I'm not telling you to do the same, but it won't hurt to just try with someone new, you know? You aren't getting any younger, do you wanna spend the last few years as a teenager still trying to get over Louis, who clearly doesn't give a fuck about you? Don't think of it as a rebound...think of it as you doing the best you can for right now with someone new."
And I nearly tell her I don't want someone new. That the only boy I've ever loved made me want to 'lay in traffic' as she put it, but I don't. Because I shouldn't want him anymore. I can't want him anymore.
I nod, promising to give it some thought and to come see her again as I stand to my feet to give her a goodbye.
"Oh and Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Maybe it's time to give him back his things too, you know? Could be a positive step in the right direction, yeah?" she suggests.
My jaw tightens almost painfully, my stomach clenching like I've just gone down a steep drop on a rollercoaster, suspended in the air. I can't even begin to imagine the pain I'd feel if I had to do that. I'm not like him. Unlike him, I have actual feelings and hold value to things. I know it's over, I'm slowly coming to terms with that fact, but there are still certain parts I'm not ready to give up...some things I'm not ready to let go of.
Regardless of what he's done, it's still going to hurt to let go completely.
I give her a simple nod, determined to show no sign of indifference, agreeing to come see her again with the accompaniment of a hug before walking outside to join Mitch in the car.
---
The smell of the food swirled throughout the car during the entire journey back to Mitch's house, making it difficult to not tear open the bag and dig into dinner then and there. We made casual conversation, even turning on the radio and singing along to the music. Mitch does an impressive Elvis impersonation, and I even tried doing it too. Needless to say, mine was horrible, but he smiled throughout the entire thing.
We roll to a stop in front of a two-story brick house in a quiet neighborhood, the driveway vacant of any cars.
"Let's go, I'm starving," He says, clutching his stomach for a dramatic effect. I nod and grab the bag, climbing from the car and following Mitch up to the front door.
It's nice and toasty inside, the air smelling like oak wood. It seems to be pretty cozy in here, throw pillows and fluffy blankets folded over the couch, pictures of Mitch and his family lining the grey walls.
Nice and homey.
I stop by the door to slip my shoes off, Mitch glaring at me as if he's never seen anything like it.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking my shoes off?" I say, matching his evident confusion because it should be quite obvious.
"You always take your shoes off before going in someone's house?" he asks.
I nod twice. "Mostly," I say.
"Is that some strange British thing I don't know about?" he chuckles, taking the food from my hand and strolling over to the kitchen. My entire body cringes as his wet shoes squeak obnoxiously against the hardwood.
I would like to say I forget Mitch is probably as American as they come, but it'd be a lie. Though I never say anything about it, his accent throws me off each time I hear it.
I follow him into the Kitchen, watching intently as he scoops a generous serving of lasagna onto separate plates, adding a few garlic knots as well. "What do you want to drink?"
"Water is fine." He nods, sucking the tomato sauce from his thumb and grabbing two glasses, filling them with cold water.
He grabs our food, leaving me to grab the drinks as we make our way over to the couch. I'm first to sit down, folding my legs and grabbing my plate from Mitch. He sits down too, pulling a large blanket over us and kicking his feet up.
"So Harold."
"Harry," I correct him.
"Right, Harold. I told you this lasagna was delicious."
"Actually, you said it was the best fucking lasagna you've ever tasted."
"And so now if you don't like it, this may ruin the very basis of our friendship." He jokes, and I laugh quietly at the stupid joke.
"Not a joke," he says, though I can see the corners of his lips fighting to not quirk up into a smile. "Try it." and so I do.
The lasagna, simply put, was probably the tastiest thing I've ever had. "So good," I practically moan, digging into the food. Mitch laughs as I shovel the pasta into my mouth, all manners that were instilled in me since my childhood flying straight out the window.
I'm halfway done with my plate before Mitch even takes his first bite.
"Sorry. I'm being rude," I say, reaching for my glass of water, my cheeks burning under Mitch's amused glare.
"It's alright, told you it was good," he says with a smile, lifting his hand to my face as his thumb wipes what I presume to be tomato sauce from the corner of my lips.
It dawns on me now, how romantic this must seem. High-quality Italian food, us sharing a blanket, Mitch feeling comfortable enough to touch me and myself not even flinching as he does so. If it were Louis, I'd be in his lap right now, working toward getting onto my knees.
No. No Louis. Louis isn't here, Mitch is. Mitch is here and he's kind and funny and this is where I need to be right now.
"Did you hear me?" he asks, ripping me away from my Louis filled thoughts.
"I'm sorry, what'd you say?"
"I asked why you got a job in the bakery. Do you like it there?"
"Oh yeah I love it," I say, ignoring the first half of the question. I like Mitch, but we haven't quite reached the 'my dads a deadbeat and my mum can barely afford our house' revelation yet. "Everyone was really welcoming of me, you know? Doesn't even feel like work, to be honest."
"I've been looking for work but can't ever find anything,' he explains. "It's all really cliquey around here, you know? Everyone knows everyone."
"How do you mean?" I ask, taking another forkful of my lasagna. I've been here less time than he has and I had a job within my first week.
"People our age around here have been going to school together since they were kids. They found their friend groups when they were young and stuck with them. It's nearly impossible to infiltrate that. And as far as the adults, they've known each other their whole lives, their grandkids go to school together. It's hard for an outsider, a foreigner, to break through that."
I never quite thought of it that way, but it does sound horrible. Moving to a new country is probably one of the scariest things you can do, it must be really hard for him. He's right about the 'everyone knows everyone' sorta thing. Somehow, in this town, everyone is always connected.
"Yeah...I could see that. Must be awful."
"It gets pretty lonely. You don't really have friends, just people who you can sit with at lunch or who can spot you the answers on the homework, but no friends."
"That's not true. You have me" I explain, Mitch glaring at me knowingly.
"Oh...yeah," I whisper. He doesn't have to say it, I know. But oddly enough it doesn't make me feel sorry for Mitch, it makes me angrier at Louis. Mitch needed a friend just as much as I did. We could've helped each other through that feeling of solitude, but Louis got in the way of that.
"It's alright though. A little bit over a year from now I'll be off to London, maybe playing in a band or something, who knows. Won't need any silly high school friends, I'll have everything I need."
"You sing?"
"Oh no no no," he laughs, shaking his head at the thought. "Guitar. Little bit of bass, but mostly guitar."
I jump slightly in my seat, a beaming smile creeping its way onto my face.
"Why are you smiling like that?" he asks, his smile matching mine.
"Nothing...I just...that's really cool. I've been writing songs lately and Niall's taught me a few chords on the guitar but nothing too impressive."
"You write?"
"I guess you could say that. I have a few written but I don't think they'd ever become anything."
"Well there's only one way to find out," he says cooly, standing to his feet and rushing over to the staircase.
"Where are you going?!" I call out through laughter, smiling down at my lap as I hear him thudding around upstairs.
Seconds later, he's running back down the stairs, a sleek black guitar in hand. I smile happily, Mitch settling into the couch and handing me the guitar.
"Show me what you got, Styles."
I stare at him incredulously. "You can't possibly be serious," I say, mouth agape. I expect him to shrug it off and take it back, but he only stares at me with a sly smirk.
"Mitch...this thing must be so expensive, I'm probably not even clean enough to touch it," I say in shock, eyeing the fresh strings and polished gold of the tuning pegs, my fingers skimming timidly over the sleek black wood. It truly is a beauty, the type of guitar you'd spend months saving up for, holding onto all the money you have, down to the penny.
"Relax, I'm not giving it to you or anything," he laughs. "I just wanna see what you're working with, that's all."
I nod, adjusting the position of the instrument in my lap. My fingers find their placements on the thing strings, plucking the few chords I know. Truthfully, it sounds like nails on a chalkboard, and Mitch's face expressed it.
"Mhm...and you say Niall's been teaching you?" He chuckles.
"Kinda. He taught me enough to play a song I'd written, but that's about it. I can only remember that one song, and trying to play anything else is nearly impossible." Niall was very helpful in coming up with the chords for sweet creature, but my fingers can still hardly keep up with what he taught me.
"So you can play an entire song you wrote...but can barely play a G?"
I nod.
"You're one strange boy," he laughs. "Go on."
"What?"
"Play the song," he says as if it were obvious.
"Like right now?"
"I'm sorry, are we waiting for spring to roll around?" He jokes and it nearly irritates me that I laugh at it. As I said, he's very charming, and judging by the way every mannerism and word he speaks practically drips confidence, he knows it.
My shaky fingers find their placements on the thin strings, plucking away in a broken and choppy rhythm, but he listens as if this little chord progression is the best thing he's ever heard. I sing the lyrics out in the best way I know how, passionately and heartfelt but it doesn't feel the way it should.
My first time singing this song was to the boy I was certain I'd be spending the rest of my life with. This song is him, it's the lyrical embodiment of who he was to me. It may have been rushed, lyrics stringing together and my fingers skipping a few strings, but he hung onto every single word, every little twang of the strings. He absorbed it.
It's hard to believe that 24 hours after that very moment, my entire perception of him changed into something entirely new. The boy who stood before me was not the same boy I fell in love with.
"When I run out of road," I practically scream, my voice clinging to the air the way I so desperately want to cling to him. But he's gone.
Louis, my Louis, is gone.
"You bring me home," I say weakly, my fingers slowing to a stop. I inhale deeply, in through my nose and out through my mouth, Mitch watching me with eyes so intense it could make me shiver.
"That was...holy shit."
"I'm sorry, got a bit carried away," I laugh awkwardly, placing the guitar on the cushion next to me and fiddling with my fingers.
"No no, that was beautiful. It was so passionate and determined and desperate. Truly beautiful." He explains, talking quite a lot with his hands.
"Thank you," I say meekly.
"Was that about...him?"
I nod, my eyes trained on his chest. The last time I sang this song, the eyes I met were a captivating vivid blue. But these aren't those eyes, so I'll stare at his chest.
"He really did a number on you, didn't he?"
I nod.
"I'm so sorry, H. My encounters with him weren't exactly pleasant, but it's clear you felt something. It's clear you still do."
"It doesn't matter," I shrug, my mouth feeling awfully dry. I can't go to that headspace. Not here. Not now.
"But it does because you didn't deserve that. No one deserves something like that. I'm so sorry," He says and I'm grateful for it, but it's not his place to apologize. He's a victim in this too.
"But he hurt you too. In a very different way, but he was so cruel to you," I rush out, finally meeting his eyes and I hadn't even noticed that we're sitting a lot closer than before.
"I'm alright," he smiles. "I mean...you're here...with me. After all of that, you're here with me right now."
"Yeah...I guess I am." I think back to what Cascina said, her words echoing in my head.
'think of it as you doing the best you can for right now with someone new.'
He stares longingly into my eyes, his breathing steady and even as we seem to draw impossibly closer. "You're so beautiful," he says and truly, I can't help myself, because he sounds so much like him. Louis thinks I'm beautiful too.
My hands cup his thin face, slamming my lips against his and kissing eagerly against them. He doesn't miss a beat, gripping my waist and pulling my body closer to him as our lips tangle themselves into each other.
I need this. I don't care who it is or how it happens, I just need this.
He sighs heavily into my mouth, carding his fingers through my hair. I was just about to crawl into his lap when a loud buzzing comes from the coffee table.
I pull off of him in a hurry, my chest heaving rapidly as we stare bewilderedly at each other. Yet, the persistent buzzing still comes from the coffee table, so I grab my phone and answer it, bringing it to my ear.
"Hello?" I pant, my eyes still trained on Mitch.
"Harry? Is that you?" the voice asks, sweet and light and all too familiar.
"Jay?" I ask.
"Yeah it's me," she replies.
"Is he okay?" I ask instinctively. Why else would she call me on a random Saturday night? Something must've happened.
"He's fine...or at least I think he is, I haven't seen him. But that isn't why I'm calling. I need someone to watch the girls. I know it's last-minute but I just got called into work and there's no one to watch them. Can you please help me out?"
"Of course. I'll be right over," I explain. She didn't even have to say the rest, all she needed to say is she needed someone to watch the girls and I would drop everything.
"Thank you so much, Harry." She says, the call ends.
I look back over to Mitch, him watching me appearing as confused as ever.
"Uhm...I gotta go," I say, looking around for my boots.
"Look I know things just got a little crazy but you don't have to-"
"No...it's not that, I promise. It was...it was good. It's just that someone very important to me needs my help and I just have to be there. I promise it isn't you," I explain, looking at him with pleading eyes.
He nods.
"Do you think you could give me a ride?" I ask. It may be asking a lot, but how else am I supposed to get across town on short notice?"
He nods, helping me gather my things and grabbing his keys before we're out the door.
---
The car rolls to a stop in front of the familiar house I once spent nearly every day in. I look over at Mitch, but he was already looking at me. "So...this is it?"
"Yeah. This is it," I sigh, glancing back at the house.
"I'm really sorry. I know you probably don't need me pushing the boundaries so I won't."
"Mitch...I'm the one who kissed you."
"I know but-"
"We can talk about this soon, okay? But thank you for tonight, really. I needed to socialize a bit, so thank you. I had a lot of fun," I say, Mitch relaxing at the sound of my words and nodding, unlocking the door for me.
I climb out, giving Mitch a nice smile before turning on my heel and eyeing the house that holds so many memories. I don't understand why I'm so nervous, Jay even sad she hasn't seen Louis so there's no way he's here, but my stomach is in knots.
Each step I take toward the front door is a battle to not turn right around and run straight home. But it hits me that this has nothing to do with me. This is about Jay and her needing someone to lending a helping hand. That realization is enough for me to walk straight inside, not even bothering to knock.
The familiar scent of the house welcomes me, filling my senses and nearly making me dizzy. It reminds me so much of him.
No. Now is not the time.
I see four little heads from the couch, nobody noticing my presence. I take my opportunity, sneaking up behind the couch and leaning in between the twins to whisper to them.
"Hiya," I say happily, the girls jumping and looking over their shoulder to see who's behind them. It takes a second for them to register me and what's going on but the moment they do, they're standing on the couch and throwing themselves into my arms.
"'Arry 'Arry 'Arry!!!!" They squeal, jumping up and down on the cushions. Lottie and Fizzy are quick to jump onto their feet and run to my side of the couch, hugging the lower half of my body so tightly I nearly fall and bring the twins down with me.
"We missed you so much!" Lottie exclaims.
"I missed you guys too," I say, just loud enough for the four of them to hear. I truly have missed these 4 little girls so much. It's probably one of the hardest parts about the breakup. Not being able to see these little angels.
"Alright girls, let him breathe," that familiar sweet voice says from behind us. The moment the girls let go, I turn on my heel and pull Jay in for the tightest hug I can manage.
"Hi love," she says so sweetly I could cry.
"Hi," I squeak, fighting back the aching lump in my throat.
"You look good," she compliments, eyeing my attire. I do the same, smiling at her purple nurse scrubs, but I still tell her she's beautiful because she is. She always has been.
"Alright here's the game plan," she says, her tone switching quickly. "I got called in because they need a few extra hands. The girls have already been bathed, they just need to eat. Bedtimes in an hour, they can watch television for a little but then just get them ready for bed, okay?"
I nod, taking in all of this information and hoping the girls don't put up too much of a fight when it's time for bed.
"The food is already made, just gotta heat it up. Robert gets home in about an hour and a half, so you can leave when he gets here, alright?"
"Sounds good"
"Great," she smiles, kissing my cheek and grabbing her purse and keys.
"Jay?" I call out.
"Yes?"
"He isn't going to show up...is he?" I ask, forcing myself to not look down at my feet.
"No, love. I already called him, he's busy tonight. You don't have to worry about that," she assures me. I have to stop myself from asking her what he's up to. It's not my business anymore and frankly, I couldn't possibly care less.
We smile at each other before she says goodbye to her beautiful daughters. Before I know it, she's out the door and I'm left with the girls who look so excited they could burst.
"So...who's hungry?" I ask the girls, quickly regretting the question as they jump up and down joyfully, rushing to the kitchen and nearly knocking each other over on their journey.
This should be fun.
---
The girls sit quietly at the dining table, the four of them drawing into their coloring books and exchanging crayons when necessary. I offered television, but as soon as they finished their dinner, they all just wanted to color. Of course, I didn't object, it gave me enough time to clean up the kitchen.
"What are you drawing, Lotts?" I ask from across the kitchen, putting up the final dishes and drying my damp hands on the towel hanging from the stove.
"Mountains," she mumbles, clearly way too invested in her coloring to hold a conversation with me.
Lottie's never been the talkative one, the twins talk enough for everyone combined, but she's always been a sweetheart. Quiet, reserved, but absolutely remarkable once she gets comfortable around you.
"What about you, Pheebs?" I say as I stroll over to the table.
She's quiet for a moment, the brown crayon clutched tightly in her tiny hand before she finally stops and holds the picture up for me.
The drawing, while it's no Picasso, nearly made me scoop the little girl up in my arms and hold her as tightly as my body could allow.
A neat drawing (as neat as could be for a 7-year-old) of the house, the girls and Jay standing in the doorway with tears in their eyes as a boy with light brown hair and tattooed arms walks away from them and into the night.
"Pheebs..." I trail off. I couldn't find the words even if I tried.
"It's Lou," she says simply. "He doesn't come home much anymore and when he does he's always a little different. We all miss him, Hazza," she says, Fizzy scooping Pheebs up into her arms and consoling the small girl.
"I know, love... I know." I know it better than anyone. He's so unattainable these days. And it's not like I should care, but you can't help but wonder what it is he could be doing. Up until a few months ago, Louis lived a carefree life, only stopping by for a quick hello to make sure Jay knew he wasn't dead. That changed though, the girls got used to Louis being home all the time and not having to wonder where he is or if he's ok. They had their brother back.
But of course, like always, his own selfish needs took over, and now no one can keep a single tab on him. It's not fair to the girls. It isn't fair at all.
"I think it's time for bed," I suggest, the tension getting a bit too much to bear.
The girls hardly bat an eye, standing from their chairs and gathering their things before ushering up the stairs together.
They carry on with their nighttime routine, brushing teeth, combing hair and pajamas. I must admit, I miss this. I've been gone for not even a month but it still feels as though the girls have gotten impossibly older. I just hope they know I love them, despite the distance and the many reasons why things will never be the same again, I still love them dearly.
"Alright girls, let's get into bed." I say goodnight to Lottie and Fizzy as they head off to their shared room before following the twins into their bedroom, tucking them into their beds.
"Hazza?" Daisy mutters innocently.
"Yeah?"
"Could you...could you just come over more? I know Louis did something bad, but we didn't. We didn't do anything bad, Hazza. Please just come play with us some more," she pleads, tears springing to her beautiful blue eyes.
"I don't think that's such a good idea, Dais," I say, clearing my throat.
"But we miss you."
"I know, I miss you guys too."
"So then come see us more," she practically demands, frustration building up inside her tiny heart.
"It's not that simple. I would if I could, but it's just...it's not that simple."
"Yes, it is. You can come over and play with us and make up with Lou and everything would go back to normal because that's how things should be. You can, you just don't want to. You don't love us, you're gonna go away just like Louis." She cries, her face reddened with anger.
"Daisy...Louis loves you guys. He does so so much. And I do too," I explain, and god I wish I could just grab her and shake her until she gets it but she won't. She doesn't understand any of it, none of them do, they just know Louis is gone and I am gone and nothing is the same.
She doesn't reply, just looks at me one final time with tears pooled above her lashline before turning on her side and giving me the cold shoulder.
I sigh, knowing I couldn't make this better right now, so I leave. Just like they expected, just like how they're used to. I stand in the middle of the hallway, wiping my eyes dry and trying to make myself believe that one day they'll understand.
I look up, breath catching abruptly in my throat as I stare at the door in front of me. I shouldn't go in there. I really shouldn't. There's nothing for me behind this door. I should just go downstairs and wait for Robert to get home in a few minutes. That'd be the smart thing to do.
But I can't stop now, not when my hands on the knob and it's twisting and I'm opening the door, so close to the life we once had, so close I can nearly taste it and before I know it, I'm in.
The sight of the room knocks the wind out of me, nearly unbalancing me off of my feet. His room. His scent, his touch lingers on everything in here, so overwhelmingly unmistakenly there I could crumble right here and now. My legs feel weak beneath me as I walk further into the room, skimming my fingers over his belongings.
It doesn't look at all how I remember it, dark and items splayed carelessly amongst the floor. But if I pretend hard enough, if I allow myself to believe it to be true, maybe I could pretend nothing has changed.
Before I know it, I'm on the bed, hands trembling as they run over the bedsheets. The memories these sheets hold. The things these walls have seen. We kissed for the first time in this very bed. So many firsts for us happened in this very room and it just won't stop crashing over me.
It was beautiful, wasn't it? Don't get me wrong, it had its issues, but god was it beautiful. So unimaginably exquisite I had to pinch myself every day to make sure it was real. And he was. I can't decide what of him was real and what was just a fabricated lie, but it was everything to me.
I hadn't even noticed I was crying until a big fat tear splatters onto my hand. I can't miss him. I really shouldn't. And I'm trying to move on, god knows I am, but how can I when he's always lingering on me? For better or for worse, he's always there.
Silent cries turn to unconcealable whimpers and before I know it, sobs rack throughout my entire body as I cradle my face in my hands. Why couldn't we keep up the lie? I wish I never would've found out. I'd live a life of deceit if it meant I could still wake up with his skin on mine.
"Oh god Louis," I sob, trying to calm down before I disturb the girls, but it's too much. Too much at once and the tears keep coming and the more I close my eyes the more his face flashes behind my lids and fuck if it isn't killing me.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway disrupts my pity party and I gasp quietly. I'm quick to stand to my feet, wiping my eyes and thanking god Robert is here so I can just go home and crawl into bed. I take one final look around the room, saying a silent goodbye before closing the door and rushing down the stairs.
I walk through the front door, shielding my eyes from the bright headlights of the car. I walk down the porch steps, still keeping a hand up to block the light before he turns off the engine and the door opens.
"Hey Robert, the girls are in bed and I cleaned up the kitchen. Tell Jay I said goodnight," I say quickly, my eyes hardly able to focus on the man due to the tears but also the blinding light shining in my eyes a few seconds prior.
He doesn't say anything and I can only hear the sound of his shoes pressing into the wet grass.
And it's too late to walk away or to realize, because the moment my eyes focus again, he's right there in front of me. Nowhere left to run. Face to face once again.
"Curly," he sighs, his breath coming out like smoke from his thin pink lips.
Shit shit shit.
"Lou..." I squeak.
"You're...why are you...what are you doing here?" He says. Phoebe's words from earlier ring inside my skull. She had said that every time he came home, he was always just a bit different. Something about him seems off. I can't quite pinpoint it, but it's some quality or feature that just isn't him.
"Jay needed someone to come watch the girls. I was just doing her a favor."
"You're here," he says weakly, and once again, it's just off. For the first time, I look directly into his hooded bloodshot eyes, pupils the size of the moon and it all clicks into place.
"Are you high?" I say incredulously.
"Why do you care?"
"I don't, I'm just making conversation."
"Well don't. Not that it's any of your business, but it's Zayn's birthday and we were just hanging out. It isn't a big deal."
"Wow," I scoff, unable to stop the look of disgust on my face. "You guys couldn't just go out to dinner or something?"
"Fuck off. You're not better than me, Harry. I get it, I'm so fucking horrible, you've made your point," He says defensively, his demeanor switching almost instantly.
"Why the hell are you being so rude?" I say, my voice rising slightly. "I'm just trying to fucking talk to you."
"Don't." He growls. "Because see, I don't want to know what you've been up to. I don't wanna know where you've been or who you've been with or why you look so fucking good right now. You can save the speech about how much you hate me and how I'm probably your biggest fucking regret. Save all of it."
"Louis...I didn't come here to hurt you. I came here as a favor to your mother, that is all," I declare.
He leans in close to me, his warm breath fanning over my lips, the air thickening between us as my mind spins. Is he gonna kiss me? And would I even want to stop him?
Before I can even answer that question for myself, he pulls away.
"Have you been crying?" He says and if I were stupid, I'd perhaps detect a bit of concern in his tone.
"No," I lie.
"Yes, you have. God Harry, look at yourself right now, look at what this is doing to you...look at what it's doing to me. Why are you fighting this so much? You miss me, Harry. Just come inside, okay? We can work this out, just come inside. Please."
I'm silent. I can see the hope building in his clouded eyes, he's taking my silence to mean more than what it actually is. And if I were weaker, perhaps I'd give in, but I'm not the same boy I was when I first left him and I'd be damned if I allowed him to think I was.
"No. We would never work, you know that. You need help, Louis. This isn't fucking normal and you need help," I say so harshly he visibly flinches. I brush past him, his body so weak I probably could've knocked him over.
"Oh and one more thing," I say, turning on my heel and Louis pleading with his eyes to just leave him be. As if he couldn't take another moment of this.
"Just come see your sisters more, alright? They shouldn't have to suffer because of what happened with us. When you're sober, and only when you're sober, come see them." I say, walking away once I'm finished and not daring to look back.
---
I sit idly on the couch, flipping through the channels the way I usually do on Sunday nights. No channel seems to catch my interest, no show or movie able to keep my attention.
Truthfully, nothing has been able to keep my attention since last night. I know I shouldn't care, but I can't help but replay our conversation in my mind. I don't know why I keep replaying it, there's nothing there anymore, but my mind won't let it go.
I remember thinking last night about how he's just always there. Even if it isn't physical, a trace of him is always lingering somewhere in my life. But how could I be surprised? I still have his clothes and a few other miscellaneous items of his. Perhaps that could be a start.
Maybe it's like Cascina said...a positive step in the right direction.
I turn off the television before standing to my feet and making my way to my bedroom. I open my closet door, skimming my fingers over his t-shirts and jackets that he let me borrow indefinitely.
It's time. It's the only way I'll heal.
---
30 grueling minutes later and I can hardly see through the tears, clutching each item to my chest and weeping pathetically into it. It shouldn't be this hard, why does it have to be this hard?
My chest feels like it was ignited, bursting into flames as my lungs seem to chase the air they will never be able to find.
I stand to my feet, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor, and walking into the kitchen to get some air.
"I can do this, just fucking stop. It's alright, I'm alright" I mutter brokenly to myself, pacing the floor and threading my fingers through my hair, tugging at the roots and hard as I can. I was doing so well. I hadn't cried over him in nearly 2 whole weeks. Why did I have to see him?
"Fuck!" I scream, slamming my open palm against the cabinet.
I stare at the wooden cabinet for a moment, hesitantly opening it to reveal exactly what it is that I'm looking for.
My hand grips the bottle, a bottle of whiskey from 1920. It was a gift to my father from one of his colleagues, my father forgetting to take it with him when he left and so we kept it for ourselves as a gentle 'fuck you' to the bastard.
My eyes study the dated label and the old brown liquid. This will help. If it's either feel the weight of the entire world crashing onto me or feeling absolutely nothing at all, I'd gladly take the latter.
---
It worked for a while, every time I had to fold a t-shirt or grab a hoodie, I took a drink. But that soon turned into each time I think of his face or the simple thought of him crossed my mind, I was bringing the rim to my lips.
I'm not quite sure at what point I stopped caring about the clothes and began to wander aimlessly around my house, taking a drink every 30 seconds and relishing in the cool burn, but I don't complain. I'm light on my feet, mind hazy and clouded, just the way I need it. Not thinking of Louis at all.
Louis. My Louis.
He smells so good...feels so good too. Does he miss the way I smell? The way I touch him? Does he miss touching me? I bet he does.
Only one way to find out.
I scroll on my phone for longer than normal, searching for his number through clouded vision. I know he misses me, couldn't hurt to give him a call.
One hand brings the phone up to my ear while the other brings the bottle to my burning lips. When did I put his sweater on? Doesn't matter, feels good. Louis makes me feel good.
The line trills as my throat seems to get used to the burn. I love the burn. I love the pain, it's the only thing I can seem to feel these days.
The only thing that keeps me connected to him.
---
Ooooo the dramaaaaaa
Yes, I'm bad at updating I know I know, but this is over 10,000 words so I hope it's enough for now. I know it's a lot in one chapter, but that's because everything needed to fit into this chapter so the next one would be focused on only one thing.
I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for 28k (and all the other numbers we reached while I was gone)
I love you pumpkin:)