Chapter 12: XII
Summary:
Things get (almost) pretty steamy.
Also, I'd just like to say thank you to every single one of you who have been reading this story. Your comments are always so welcomed and appreciated. I'm just so happy that people actually care about all this stuff I pull out of my brain. I'm definitely in this one for the long-haul. There's still so much more planned, so stay with me! I had my best friend with me this weekend (haven't seen her since January--TEARS) and we hashed out a whole lot of plot for this baby.
Also, Louis' observer article? I'm still crying D:
Love you all!
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"Everything is so different now and I don't understand any of it,"
Louis was sitting on his bean bag chair in Terri's office. It was Friday and he'd gotten through, essentially, the entire week without a hiccup. After his talk with Terri, he almost felt a sort of perspective, which was odd for him. As usual, he hadn't really said much, but she'd understood enough to get him through it, and that was what counted.
Since he and Harry had said their apologies on Monday, they'd seen each other every day that week. Louis was making a conscious effort not to push him away. Of course, with all the time they'd been spending together, they were getting closer and that was down right terrifying for Louis, but maybe Terri was right. Maybe Harry wasn't going to let him down. It certainly felt that way when they were together. The problem, though, was when they were apart. When Louis had the chance to continuously do that thing he did where he thought himself deeper and deeper into dark places. But that was his problem, not Harry. That was alarming in and of itself.
And then, on top of all of that, there was still the option that Terri was wrong. There was still the glaring possibility that there wasn't ever going to be someone who stuck around through everything. Harry was brave and he was kind, but he was a human being with his own limitations. No matter how lovely things were right then, there was still the fear in the back of Louis' mind that at some point it would be too much. There might be a time when Louis told him something that did make him run and he didn't want that to happen. He wanted Terri to be right about the whole thing.
Louis tried really hard for his own sanity not to consider those options. He was trying really hard to just savour the moment, because it didn't really matter if things crashed and burned just yet, because Louis was enjoying it. And even if that were to be taken from him, he would have still had it, and that had to count for something.
"Because you're different," said Terri.
"I don't feel different, I just feel...lost. I don't understand,"
"There's something to be said for almost dying," said Terri, "it changes a person. You're never going to be the same boy who swallowed those pills. People in your life reacted, Lottie especially. You reacted. You fought for yourself, and its not been all sunshine and lollipops for you, Louis, but you have earned it. You have changed and its all been for the better,"
"I feel like everything but me has changed. People treat me different,"
"The first day I met you, I could see how lost you were, how deep your wounds were, but its not the same now. Now they aren't wounds—they're scars, and there's a big difference right there. You can still see them, those things that happened to you. You can touch them and remember the pain, but they're not bleeding anymore. People can see you now, Louis, as a lot more than just your pain. And what's inside of you—what's always been there—it can shine now,"
"Have you ever considered a career as a motivational speaker?"
It was Terri's turn to roll her eyes then, "regardless, whoever it is that you keep coming here and talking about, I promise that's what he sees,"
Louis huffed out an annoyed sigh, and rolled his eyes, "whatever,"
They were both silent for a moment until Terri spoke. Louis kept his eyes on the ceiling, "You know, it amazes me that you expect me to know everything and still hold some of it back. You want me to tell you how you feel, but you don't want me to keep bringing whoever you've met up. Why?"
"I never told you I met anyone,"
"Irrelevant, because you have. I just don't understand why you won't talk to me about it,"
Louis wasn't about to say anything. He didn't want to talk about Harry with her, and he couldn't really explain that. He didn't want to put pressure on things. He didn't want her to expect anything of him. He didn't want her to be disappointed if he ruined it. He just wanted it to be.
Terri let out a long sigh, "at least tell me his name, Louis. Give me something,"
Louis chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment, deciding whether or not he wanted to say anything, "Harry,"
Terri smiled then, like just hearing the name had cleared something up for her, and he didn't really get it. "Are you and Harry dating?"
Louis nearly choked on his tongue as he laughed at the words she'd said, "Uh, no. We're sort of friends,"
"Sort of?"
"He's my lab partner. We've been hanging out a bit,"
Terri smiled, and something sparkled in her eyes that reminded him of Lottie when she watched him and Harry together. It was so strange to have so many people standing in his corner and hoping that he'd do something right. Harry was a great choice, he knew that. The only issue with their friendship was the question of why Harry wanted it. Louis would be a fool to let it go, but it didn't change that he still didn't understand it.
"Good,"
Louis nodded once, feeling like he was pretty much ready for Terri to move on. She read him well, and her next words had nothing to do with Harry, and he was thankful for that.
"Have you seen Matt?"
"I have,"
"Tell me about that. Is it different to see him now?"
"I mean," Louis inhaled. He knew this was why he was here. He was here because of the people in his life who had helped him get as fucked up as he was, and he was supposed to talk about it. Terri was supposed to be the person he did that with, but it still wasn't easy. He still cared what she thought, "yes and no. He's the same,"
"But you're not,"
Louis nodded once, because he was just now beginning to realize that maybe he wasn't the same. Maybe Terri was right and it wasn't the world that had changed. Maybe Louis was finally, against every odd that had been stacked against him, on the right track. He didn't know how he felt about that.
"How does Harry feel about Matt?"
Louis could feel the barriers being erected in his mind. He wanted to block this. He wanted to stop Terri from asking questions about this, because he wasn't really ready to answer them. He wasn't really prepared to have someone get so close to him. It was horrifying. But he fought against it, because whether he said it out loud or not, she seemed to know everything, and there was something to be said for at least having the control to be the one who said it.
"I don't know how he feels about Matt, but I think Matt hates Harry,"
"So they have met,"
Louis gave a single nod.
"Do you think Matt's scared?"
"Why would he be scared?"
"Because Harry might give you the things he never did. Because he might not have control anymore,"
...
Louis was tapping the steering wheel in time to the song that was playing on the radio. That was new, too. The radio was always on in Marsha now, and it was set to the classic rock station that Harry had picked that first day. Louis was parked outside of Harry's building, waiting for him to come down. It was Friday, and Harry had called in sick to work because he swore up and down that he would rather spend his Friday and Saturday night at Louis' house.
Louis' family had left Thursday night for France, and while a really big part of him was nervous beyond belief about spending all of this time with Harry, a large part of him didn't want to be. He wanted to enjoy it and accept it for whatever it was. He liked spending time with Harry, and he didn't want to think about the rest.
He saw Harry come flying out of the door of his building, a smile set in it's place as soon as he saw Louis' car. He made a bee-line straight for Louis, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He opened the door and hopped quickly into his seat and ginned over at Louis.
"Long time no see," he joked. Louis' had just seen him a few hours before in their bio lecture, "miss me?"
Louis nodded once, running his thumb over the keychain that was hanging from his car's ignition.
"Good," said Harry, "missed you, too. How was English?"
Their conversations came easily these days. Harry had notably tried to steer away from anything that might get too serious. Louis appreciated that. He also, noticed, however, that Harry always seemed to try to tell his own more personal stories. Like he was trying to prove to Louis that he trusted him with his deepest thoughts, and while Louis did instinctually trust Harry, he still wasn't quite ready to spill everything. He was grateful that Harry seemed to tread lightly these days. He was happy that Harry hadn't taken all of the things that Matt had said and turned them into questions. Some day, he thought, he wanted to tell Harry about Terri. About how he'd met her and how he and Lottie had gotten close...but it was a lot. He was pretty sure that it was the kind of story that would either make or break their friendship.
When Louis turned down the lane that his house was on, he saw Harry visibly change. He was just barely hiding a smirk as they drove past the hundred year old oak trees that were just behind kilometres of perfectly pruned bushes and gardens.
"Just say it," said Louis, his own smirk blooming.
Harry grinned, turning to look at Louis, "quite a posh lane you live on, Mr. Tomlinson,"
"Oh, we're formal now, are we?"
"Well I suppose I thought I was hanging out with a regular rich boy, but you have a lane,"
"I really didn't have you pegged for the teasing kind, Curly,"
"I didn't have you pegged for the well groomed lane sort, Cheekbones, but I suppose we're both full of surprises,"
Louis laughed as he pulled up to the front gates and pressed the open button that was attached to his sun visor. The gates swung open slowly and Harry's grin grew even larger. The driveway led to the back garage and parking area. Louis pulled up in front of the house. No one else was going to be home for the weekend. It didn't matter where he parked. Harry was looking at the house, which admittedly, even though Louis was used to it, was a bit over the top.
"Welcome to my humble abode," he joked, turning Marsha off and removing his seatbelt.
"I'm not sure humble is the right word," said Harry as he stepped out of the car, "you're obviously giving me the tour. I'm gonna get a badge on my Fitbit from walking this bloody thing. How many bedrooms are there?"
Louis started walking toward the front door and Harry followed slowly behind him, "eight in the main house,"
"Eight in the main house," mocked Harry in his best posh accent, "do you ever just listen to the things you say? I can't believe you grew up in this palace! I've been to hotels that are smaller,"
"Are you about done teasing me yet?" Louis felt light and happy and those were two things that he really never felt when he was about to enter his house.
"Not even close," said Harry, finally catching up to Louis as he pushed the front door open. Harry wrapped an arm around Louis' back and hugged into him, "I will say, though, if I just met you without ever hearing you were the richest boy in town, I'd never have imagined this. You're oddly level headed for someone who had all this,"
But he didn't really have all this. It was never really his. He was always more of an intruder in the whole thing. He'd never really experienced the same sort of things that his siblings had. There was no riding lessons to look back on fondly, no weekend trips to France with his mum. Louis was just a shadow in this place. None of it was really his.
"You know, mum bought this place when I was 6, but it's never really felt like home to me. It's so big and so...cold. Even with all the stuff in here, its just kind of empty,"
Harry pulled him a bit tighter at the words, and it made Louis feel less awful about his honesty. There was always a terrifying moment between when he said something that was too personal and when Harry reacted to it, and Louis hated that moment. He hated that he always felt like too much.
"Well, for what it's worth, you're nothing like the house you grew up in,"
Just like usual with Harry, things shifted easily from teasing to serious and then back again.
"Now, give me the tour, I want to get my steps in for the day," said Harry, bumping his hip against Louis' playfully.
Louis lead him through the main house. Harry stood for a good few minutes in the kitchen, in awe of the whole thing and Louis couldn't help but feel fond of him while he stood there and cooed over some fancy mixer he'd found on the counter. The kitchen was yet another room that Louis hadn't ever really spent any time in. He didn't cook, and Harry was shocked to hear that.
"You have a kitchen like this and you squander it?"
Louis was leaning against the island, smiling at Harry as he walked the room, "the kitchen is for the help, Harry,"
Harry spun around quickly, grasping his chest dramatically, "how dare you!" he said, crossing the room quickly and jabbing a finger into Louis' side, tickling him briefly, "I'm going to cook for you, just to prove that cooking isn't just for the help,"
Louis had just finished showing Harry every room on the second floor aside from his own room when Harry's phone quacked loudly. They smirked at each other while Harry pulled it out. A grin took over his face as he looked up to Louis, "way to go, you've walked 10,000 steps," Harry read the words from his screen to Louis.
"Impressive," said Louis softly, "and I haven't even shown you the guest house, the pool house or the stables,"
"You do not have stables,"
"Of course there's stables," said Louis, leading Harry toward his bedroom door (which was always closed—unlike every other bedroom in the house), "where else would Lottie keep her Arabian?"
"Unreal," said Harry with a laugh.
Louis pulled open the door to his room then, and even though maybe he should have been nervous about it or soething, he wasn't. Like everything else inside of this house, it didn't feel like his. It didn't feel like a reflection of him or a part of him. It was just the place he'd slept for the past decade and a half. It was nothing more and nothing less.
"You can put your stuff in here, if you want," he told Harry, who had already dropped his backpack by the front door and had made a beeline straight for the bookshelf in the back corner.
"You have a lot of books," he noted, staring up at the tallest shelf which was at least a foot above his head, "Is this every book you've ever read?"
Louis nodded slowly and Harry knelt down in front of the Shakespeare shelf and ran his fingers across the spines.
"You kept them all?" Asked Harry softly as he continued to read title after title.
"Yeah. Some were from my Gran's library,"
"That's really beautiful, Lou," said Harry, turning back to face Louis.
"I've never heard someone call hoarding tendencies beautiful,"
"I've never seen someone make hoarding tendencies beautiful,"
Louis laughed at Harry's words, "do you want to see the pool now?"
Harry's grin grew from sweet to excited at the words, but he didn't miss the opportunity for teasing, "don't you mean 'the pool house'?"
"Laugh all you want, Curly, but you won't be when you see the water slide,"
Harry gasped, "you don't have a water slide,"
Louis shook his head grinning devilishly, "nah, there isn't a water slide,"
Harry had joined him back by the door and he shoved Louis playfully, "you guys really cheaped out, I don't know what kind of pool house doesn't even have a water slide,"
Louis lead Harry through the back door and toward the pool house. Harry seemed to have decided that walking with his arm linked with Louis' was the only way he wanted to walk. Louis didn't mind. The physical aspect of his time with Harry was really alarming at first, but he had come to learn pretty quickly that it was just a part of who Harry was.
"What is that?" He said pointing to tiny house just passed the main one.
"Oh, that's where Ernest and Doris' nanny lives,"
"Is she in there now?"
"Nah, she's gone to France, too."
"Jesus. Where does your nanny live?" Louis could hear the joke in Harry's voice, and Harry leaned into him with his words.
"Um, I'm an adult, Harry, I haven't had a nanny since I was, like, 12,"
Louis was sitting at the edge of the pool, his feet dangling into the water while he waited for Harry to get changed. He kicked the water slowly with his feet, his mind wanted to go a million different places, but he found that it wasn't. There was something about Harry's presence that made him feel at ease. There were a billion things for him to over think and even more for him to full on panic about, but he found that Harry was grounding him. He felt comfortable with Harry by him. But even more surprising was that for the first time in a long time he felt comfortable in his own house. It didn't just feel like a big, empty, lifeless place. Harry had a presence about him that made the giant ceilings feel closer and warmer.
And it wasn't just comfort, Louis felt at home in his own home because Harry made him feel like he had a right to be there. He let him tell his story slowly and without the pressure that Terri put on him. Maybe it would take years for Harry to get the whole story, but it didn't feel like he was waiting for it. It didn't feel like he had expectations of Louis.
Louis' trance was broken when he heard Harry shuffling next to him. Harry took his place next to Louis slowly. Their knees pressed together as Harry once again made his way into Louis' space.
Harry reached out and softly ran his fingers across Louis forearm, "what's all this?" he asked, referring to the dozens of foolish tattoos across his skin.
"Mistakes, mostly," he answered, realizing that this was the first time Harry had really gotten to look at him for real. He risked a glance over to Harry, who, without his shirt, was also revealing some surprising ink of his own. There was a giant butterfly in the middle of his torso.
"I like it," said Harry, meeting Louis' eyes and smiling kindly.
"I'm not sure I do,"
"I think," began Harry, "that it's kind of lovely how a bunch of things that look like mistakes to you can add up and make something beautiful,"
Harry tossed that word around a lot and Louis wasn't really sure why. He also wasn't really sure how Harry could look at a bunch of dumb tattoos he'd mostly gotten while he was high and call them anything but 'stupid', because that's all Louis saw when he looked at them.
Harry glided his feet through the water wordlessly. He balled his hands up in his lap and stared into the pool. Softly, he nudged his foot against Louis and wrapped his ankle around Louis'.
"Can I ask you something?"
They had barely crossed this line since that day at the lookout. Harry had tried his very hardest to stay away from anything that got too serious.
"Sure," said Louis, because he didn't mind right then. He was comfortable and they were really alone in his giant house and despite having all the space in the world, Harry's thigh was pressed flush against Louis' and their ankles were entwined and Louis couldn't really think of a safer place to open himself up.
"How come you're not in France with your family?"
"I wasn't invited,"
Harry captured Louis hand and wound his fingers through Louis', "are you usually invited?"
Louis shook his head and it felt heavy, everything felt heavy, "not since I was old enough to stay behind,"
"Louis..." Harry voice just sounded like the epitome of pity and something ugly settled into Louis' stomach.
Louis shrugged, "I'm good here,"
Harry squeezed his hand, "you'd rather settle for me than a weekend in France?"
"Doesn't feel like settling,"
Harry smiled, but there was still a noticeable cloud above him. Harry stared at their hands, which were still entwined. He squeezed Louis hand a bit tighter before he spoke, "it's definitely not my place, and you can tell me to fuck off if you want, but, you know that's not normal, right? Your family shouldn't leave you behind,"
Louis exhaled slowly, "I mean, I guess, recently I've started to realize that,"
Harry abruptly let go of Louis' hand and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly against his body, "you deserve more,"
"But, like, when I think about it," Louis was still talking, more shockingly, though, he was still talking about this, about his family. Why did Harry make it feel like that was okay? "I mean there has to be a reason, right?"
"A reason for what?" Harry had let him go and now he was just watching Louis, his eyes full of the sadness that he always seemed to feel for Louis.
Louis exhaled sharply, a weird sort of pain was happening in his chest, "for why it's different for me. For why my family treats me how they do."
Harry's brows furrowed and he placed his hand softly on Louis' thigh, "I doubt that reason has anything to do with you."
Louis nodded once, because Harry believed his words. Louis knew better. Harry might get it one day. He might see all the things that were wrong inside of Louis and understand why he'd been pushed aside since he was a child.
"You never seem sad," noted Harry, his hand still on Louis' thigh.
Louis shrugged, "honestly," be braved a glance over to Harry who looked completely hung up on what Louis was saying, "I'm not very good at feelings,"
Harry was hugging him again, "I don't think you give yourself enough credit,"
"Maybe you give me too much," argued Louis against Harry's shoulder. His arms were wrapped around Harry, because this time it wasn't just Harry hugging him. He needed it. He wanted it. He'd never been around someone who had so freely given out physical reassurance the way Harry did, but he was quick to latch onto it.
"Bullocks," said Harry, releasing Louis again. He smiled mischievously at Louis and very suddenly slid into the pool with barely a splash.
He resurfaced a minute later with a grin on his face and water dripping from his hair. He leaned onto his back and floated comfortably. The smile was still on his face as he looked over to Louis.
"Get in," he urged.
Louis shook his head in the negative, grinning at Harry.
"Did your nanny not teach you how to swim?" Teased harry, as he swam back over to Louis.
"As a matter of fact, she didn't. I taught myself," Louis didn't have a dark feeling as he told the story, because harry made things less heavy. Louis wasn't really thinking about all the nights he'd spent alone as a child in that room. No one had offered to teach him to swim like they had with the girls. Louis' childhood memories were mostly just a collection of him alone in rooms in his house. There were always people around, but never in the same place as him. The giant house was mostly always empty for him. It was probably some sort of metaphor for his life, alone in places full of people. Louis always identified with those apocalypse movies where the main character walks out into the world only to find they're the last one left. That's what he always felt. No matter where he'd gone, for most of his life, it had been just like that. Large empty rooms with too high ceilings that were filled with nothing but him and Louis didn't have much to really fill it with.
But then he'd had Matt and some of those spaces were filled. He wasn't always the last person on earth. He could think of a thousand reasons why that had always been better than being alone, even if no one else really got it.
He'd probably been lost in his thoughts for too long, because Harry was right by him again and his smile was softer, like he knew Louis had gotten lost. Harry had his arms resting along the edge of the pool, crossed casually. His head was resting on them and he was looking up at Louis.
"Everything good?" His voice always quiet and honest.
Louis nodded once.
"Sure?"
Louis smiled this time, "honestly, I've never been so 'okay',"
Harry beamed up at him then, tugging on the bottom of Louis shorts, "then get in," he urged.
There was something sparking in Harry's eyes as he stared up at Louis, his hair pressed flat against his head and his skin shimmering in the bright lights of the pool room. He was so soft and so sweet and Louis wasn't done. He had so many more things to say to harry.
"Hey," he said, his voice soft.
"Hey yourself," replied harry, meeting Louis' eyes and holding the eye contact.
"I--" started Louis.
"If you try to apologize to me, Louis, I swear to god," his grin was still soft and light, his voice fond and teasing.
"I wanted to thank you,"
Harry used his arms to quickly pull himself out of the pool. He took his seat next to Louis again, dripping water all over him. He rested his wet head on Louis' shoulder, nuzzling into him a bit. "Thank me for what?" He asked softly.
"For actually wanting to be here," and as the words came out of his mouth, Louis was surprised because he actually believed them. He wasn't second guessing why Harry wanted to be there, he just instinctually believed that it was the truth.
"Well you can thank yourself for that. I only came for the company,"
Louis draped his arm around Harry's back, keeping him close against him. "Can I be honest?" He was always tentative with this kind of thing, because no matter what, he always assumed there would be a point where he'd be too honest.
"'Course," mumbled Harry against Louis collar bone.
"I think this is the first time someone genuinely wanted to come to my house. Especially when the staff are off and there's no one to cook and clean up after you," there was a hint of a joke behind his words and he felt Harry's cheek smiling against him, "I mean, I know the pool was a big chunk of it," he heard Harry choke a quick laugh, "but, like, even after I told you about my family and everything, you still came. I don't know why you'd want to subject yourself to my dramatic household, so, thanks,"
"You want to talk about dramatic households?" Challenged Harry, "you went to mine after my roommate was a proper dick and put my drunk ass to bed, so, thank you,"
Louis squeezed Harry a bit tighter, "I mean it though, me and everything in my life... it's a lot to take on. I don't even want to do it most days,"
"I said it before and I'll say it again," Harry began, "there's no 'trying' happening here, we just fit," he hugged Louis as he said the words and Louis felt something akin to anxiety drop into his stomach.
Harry released him then, standing up quickly and smiling wickedly at Louis. He took a quick step forward and splashed into the pool, soaking Louis completely. He resurfaced a moment later, a smile just barely hidden on his face. Louis found himself smiling in response.
"Get in, Lou," said Harry, swimming closer to where Louis' feet were dangling in the water.
"Or else?" Louis' voice was light and playful.
Harry gripped both of Louis' ankles very suddenly and gave them a playful tug, "just get in, would you?"
Louis had a weird anxiety in his stomach and he didn't fully understand what it was about. He was almost always anxious, but this felt different, because he was okay with Harry most of the time. He was himself, even though he rarely knew what that meant. He was open and trusting and not honestly afraid of being judged, but he felt sick, regardless. He didn't like it. He knew deep down that he was safe here with Harry and that Harry wasn't going to do anything to hurt him, but still the anxiety persisted.
Harry was looking up at him still, and he didn't know what it was about getting into the water with Harry that was so frightening, but he was resisting it. He didn't want to make the feeling worse, and it seemed to only intensify the closer he and Harry became. His heart was hammering in his chest, and Harry still had his hand wrapped around his ankles and Louis' skin kind of felt like it was on fire. Maybe the water would do him some good. Maybe it would give him some clarity.
Harry tugged him then, pulling him into the water. They were both laughing at Louis gave in and slid the rest of the way into the pool. He hit the water quickly, his body rushing under the surface and falling toward the bottom of the pool. He felt his feet hit the ground and he opened his eyes. He pushed himself back to the surface as hard as his could, appearing in front of Harry with a large splash and and even larger grin.
Harry smiled his child like smile at Louis, "hi," he said, swimming the half a foot distance there was between them.
"Hi," said Louis treading water and feeling Harry's knee brush against his.
The water had done nothing for his clarity, because now he was just wet and confused. Harry was just kind of staring at him, like he wanted to say something, or like he wanted Louis to say something. Louis had nothing to say though, and it was then that he realized how close Harry was to him. Their feet kept brushing against each other as they tried to stay afloat. Harry stayed close to him, his eyes not leaving Louis'. Harry reached out to him then, the motion more tentative than usual. Normally Harry reached out to him with confidence and normalcy like he was like this with everyone, but as his hand came closer to Louis' face, Harry seemed unsure of his action. Eventually, though, his fingers met Louis' forehead and he brushed Louis' fringe from his eyes. Harry watched for a reaction carefully, but Louis didn't understand why this moment was different. He felt it, but he didn't get it. Harry had reached out to him a million times, but for some reason there was something different in the air this time. Things were moving so much slower than usual and Louis kind of felt like he needed to be sick. Harry somehow found a way to move closer to Louis then, his hand still resting delicately where he'd brushed his fingers through Louis' hair.
Louis realized then with their proximity, that he was nearly pressed against the pool wall, and Harry's body just kept closing any distance that there was between them. Their thighs brushed against each other and Harry's hand moved to rest against Louis' jaw. Louis was 100% no longer breathing. He kept forgetting to kick his legs and he was probably going to drown before he ever figured out what sort of weird thing was happening to Harry in that moment. Harry's other arm reached just over Louis' shoulder to grip the edge of the pool. The motion pulled Harry closer and their chests brushed against each other. Louis' back hit the pool wall and he realized, then, that he was essentially sandwiched between the pool wall and Harry and things felt weird. Every breath that Harry took seemed significant, and Louis was hung up on how was his skin felt where Harry touched his face. Harry's eyes were sparkling in the bright lights and his hair was dripping all over his face and across his lips and Louis recognized then how hung up he was on Harry's lips. They weren't smiling for once. They were parted slightly and they looked soft and pink and Louis should probably have looked away, but he was also kind of trapped, and Harry was staring at him too.
Slowly, Harry's thumb moved from it's place on Louis' jaw. He dragged the pad of his thumb slowly across Louis' bottom lip and Louis was definitely going to get sick. His heart was hammering inside of his chest and his whole body felt like that one time as a child when he'd stick his pencil in the electrical socket. He couldn't focus anymore on trying to stay afloat. He wasn't kicking his legs at all, and he kept almost being pulled under the water. Instinctually, he felt his arm reach out to something solid, something that could keep him afloat. He rested the palm of his hand on Harry's shoulder. The movement seemed to please Harry because he had a brief flicker of a smile before he leaned in closer to Louis.
To say Louis was panicking would have been the understatement of the century. He didn't have a clue what was going on, so he took stock of what he did know. Harry's thumb was still softly tracing his lower lip periodically. Harry's other arm was stretched over Louis' shoulder, holding himself above the water, and Louis, desperate for a break from treading water on his own and unfathomably gripped onto Harry's shoulder. There was tension in every muscle in Louis' body, but it seemed like the same thing was happening to Harry. He noted how tight Harry's muscles were under his hand. Harry had also wound one of his ankles around Louis' and his face was definitely a few inches closer than it had been just a second ago.
Louis wasn't sure how they had gotten to this strange place. He wasn't sure what it meant and why it made him feel nauseated. He wished that he had some sort of idea how these things worked. He wished he knew how to be someone's friend and that Harry wasn't his first go at it because he wanted to be good. He wanted to do right by Harry because if anyone deserved it, it was Harry because he'd given Louis a chance when no one else had. He'd looked right through every other preconceived notion of Louis and he'd been there for him. He'd let Louis pour out his messy heart and he'd listened and assured him that it was the world who was wrong and not Louis, and that had to mean something. He'd only known Harry a handful of weeks, but he could already say without doubt that Harry was the most important person he'd ever met. He was the only person who'd ever seen Louis for who he was and still made him feel like a proper human being.
So, he wanted to be better at this. He wanted to understand it. He wanted to know what it meant that he was pressed against the pool wall, Harry's hand on his face. He wanted to know where things were supposed to go from there. He wasn't sure about any of it, though. He wasn't sure why he felt nauseous and why his heart beat was in his throat and why Harry's breathing was rough and why that made his chest ache in a way that wasn't particularly bad.
Harry pressed his lips together then, not breaking his eye contact with Louis. The whole room felt silent, and that feeling Louis had of always being the last person in the world had changed, and it kind of felt like he and Harry were the last ones. Harry's lips pulled back in a slight smile and he tilted his head slightly to the side and leaned in close enough to Louis to brush his nose against Louis'. Louis could feel Harry's breath across his mouth, and this definitely wasn't normal. This wasn't Harry's easy casual affection. This was strange and uncharted territory. Louis didn't get it. He didn't understand why Harry was so close to him. He felt nervous but he wasn't sure why. This wasn't his normal anxiety, and even though he'd been thinking that since the moment he'd touched the water, it was only getting more frustrating for him because he couldn't sum it up.
Harry's gaze was intense though, and he pushed his nose harder against Louis' gripping his jaw tightly and breathing hard against Louis' face. Harry closed his eyes and tilted Louis' head, exhaling slightly before brushing his lips softly against Louis' lips.
And that was it. That was the moment where Louis couldn't handle his confusion any more. He jolted then, turning his head in the opposite direction and breaking whatever tension there had been between them. He coughed slightly, trying to clear the anxiety in his gut.
Immediately, Harry dropped his hand from Louis' jaw. He moved back, letting go of the side of the pool. Louis heart might have stopped and there was something sick and heavy that dropped into his stomach. A dark chill ran down his spine, and Harry wasn't looking at him anymore and he felt wrong inside. He'd done something very wrong. He hadn't even known what was happening, but he'd ruined it and he'd ruined Harry. Harry's eyes were everywhere but him, and he swam backwards slowly and Louis felt like he was going to drown in the guilt that started to pour over him. His chest felt empty and cold and he couldn't find his heartbeat anymore. He really wanted to run. He wanted to hide away and not face Harry. He'd have given anything to run to his room and process this guilt without Harry being there. There were tears burning his eyes but didn't know why. He wanted to cry and there was so much emptiness and fear inside of him and he hated it. He hated it most of all because he wanted to tell Harry—but he'd done something. He couldn't dump his feelings on Harry when Harry literally looked the most crushed he'd ever looked. That said a lot, because Louis had done stupid thing after stupid thing and he'd hurt Harry a million times, but this for some reason seemed so much worse.
And Harry just kept backing away, and he wasn't looking at Louis. It had only been a couple of hours since he'd picked Harry up and they were supposed to have a good weekend and Louis had already managed to fuck that up. He hated himself. He hated how fucked up he was. He hated most of all that he didn't even know what he'd done. That was the worst part to deal with. He couldn't even bring this to Terri and properly explain it to her so she could help him fix it.
He'd missed out on so much in his early life that he didn't even know how to socialize properly. He didn't know how to do any of it and he'd never been so angry at the world a he was then. He'd just wanted to do it right with Harry. He'd just wanted to keep him there and now all he'd done was push him away.
And he didn't get it.
Harry was still slowly backing away from him, he stared into the pool and Louis barely heard his voice, "I'm sorry, Louis," he said before he dove under the water.
He wanted to get away from Louis.
Louis felt the tears burning his eyes then and he was going to break, because he'd broken Harry. After all the effort he'd tried to put into actually doing something right, he'd ruined it. Harry wanted to get away from him and that was devastating.
Before the tears started he had to get away. He pulled himself quickly out of the pool and practically ran through the exit of the pool house.
Louis had been sitting on the bench outside of the pool house weeping like the giant sad child he was for a solid ten minutes before he heard the door to the house close as gently as possible. This was it. He needed to pull himself together, because Harry was about to ask him for a ride home, because there was no way after all the stupidity Louis had displayed that he was going to stay. Louis knew that. He understood it. And especially awful, was the fact that instead of dealing with things like a proper adult, Louis had ran away to cry. And now Harry was going to see more of his weakness than he'd already shown. He was disgusting.
He frantically tried to wipe away his tears before Harry got to him, but it was futile. They just kept coming harder and harder and the more he tried to catch his breath, the emptier his chest felt. He was shaking and he wanted to be better, to be together but he was always a fucking mess, and now he had to face Harry.
Before Harry said a word, Louis felt him drape a towel across his shoulders. He shivered slightly at the motion, just realizing how cold he was. The early October air had a bite to it and Louis hadn't bothered to dry himself off before he'd made his escape. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face between them, not wanting to look at Harry. Not wanting to acknowledge how wrong he'd been.
Harry put his hand on Louis' back tentatively and Louis heard a sob escape from his chest and felt his cheeks flame in embarrassment. Softly, Harry started to rub circles across Louis' shoulders, and Louis didn't get it. He didn't understand why Harry had even bothered to come out there. He was trying to comfort Louis, but it hadn't been him that had been wrong. It had been Louis who had misread everything because he was completely illiterate when it came to friendship.
After Harry had settled in beside Louis while continuing to rub his back, he reached out and wrapped an arm around Louis. Slowly, he tried to pull Louis closer against him—again breaking every idea Louis had. He wanted to apologize, but the words were stuck in the back of his throat and the only thing he was able to get out was gargled sobs. Slowly, though, he felt his body relax as Harry hugged him against him.
"I really am sorry, Lou," Harry barely whispered, "that was really out of line and I should have asked you first,"
Asked him what first? He didn't understand any of it.
Harry pulled him tighter against him, wrapping the towel tighter to Louis' skin as he shivered against Harry. "You didn't do anything wrong," Harry said softly.
Louis was still crying, and it was embarrassing, but Harry hadn't let him go. Harry just kept mumbling comforting words and hugging him against his chest.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry was tentative.
Louis shook his head, he couldn't really speak. And he certainly didn't want to 'talk about it', because then he'd have to admit that he wasn't sure what had even happened. The only thing he was sure of was that he'd ruined it and that he'd hurt Harry and there was just no way that he deserved for Harry to be comforting him.
But Harry held Louis against him until the panic started to ease up. Slowly he felt air actually entering his lungs and his chest felt something other than utterly empty. Harry had such a calm about him that Louis couldn't help but be reeled in. It was instinct. He was comfortable curled up against Harry and it didn't make sense. It especially didn't make sense for Harry because he should have ran while he had the chance. Louis hadn't meant to fall apart, but something had happened in the pool and now everything felt different. Louis felt wrong and horrible and he didn't know what Harry was doing still being there.
Louis wasn't crying anymore, but when he tried to use his voice, it cracked with the word, "Harry?"
"Don't you dare try to apologize to me, Louis," Harry said and he crushed Louis tighter to him.
"I fucked up," he said, but he didn't even want to try to broach the subject because he knew it was true, but he wasn't quite sure what he'd ruined, and that made it even more horrible.
"Hey," said Harry, pulling back from their embrace and lifting Louis' chin so that he had to meet his eyes. Louis felt like a mess—he always felt like a mess. He knew his eyes would be bloodshot and red and his face was soaked in tears and he wasn't a pleasant sight. "You didn't do anything, okay? I shouldn't have..." he hesitated, not sure if he wanted to use the words. Louis wasn't sure if he wanted Harry to, so he knew what was really going on, or if he hoped he'd avoid it forever, "that was too much pressure. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking and I'm going to ask next time, okay?"
It felt like Harry was dancing around some elephant in the room, but Louis felt blind, because Harry was avoiding something Louis couldn't even see. He'd never felt so fucking different. But Harry was still trying to make it okay. Louis appreciated that, but he wished he could understand it. He wished that they could dance around the same elephant. He wished he had any sort of clue how to go about having a friend that didn't just want money and sex.
***
It had taken a lot, but Harry had somehow successfully convinced Louis that he didn't want to leave. He wasn't sure why he'd been so inclined to believe Harry on so many occasions, but Louis reckoned that even if Harry tried he'd never be able to pull off a lie. Everything out of his mouth was too genuine.
That's how they'd ended up sitting in the cinema room in the basement with some sort of rom-com that Harry had picked playing away. Louis wasn't really playing attention to the movie. He'd been too engaged in the periodic conversation that he and Harry had been having. The movie was called The Holiday and Harry had been giving a steady commentary through most of it.
"It's so sad that they go away for Christmas by themselves," said Harry, who was now resting his head on Louis' lap. Things felt comfortable again, and they hadn't dipped into the weirdness that had plagued them in the pool house.
Louis looked down at him and shrugged. He didn't get it. He didn't get why it was sad.
"Its just, I really couldn't imagine Christmas without Mum and Robin and Gemma. I don't know what I'd do. We have so many little traditions,"
"Like what?" asked Louis.
"Well, on Christmas eve, Robin takes Gemma and I skating and when we get home mum has hot cocoa made and we decorate the tree. She usually lets Gemma and I open a present each before bed,"
Harry's voice was so happy and fond that Louis couldn't hide his smile in response. He wasn't thinking about all the ways their Christmases differed. He wasn't thinking about his own Christmases at all, up until Harry asked.
"Do you...celebrate Christmas?" Harry had just realized the topic they were on was not one that was going to be particularly nice for Louis, but he never seemed to fear the stories Louis had to tell.
"For all intents and purposes, yes," Louis was trying not to crush the whole atmosphere with the truth. He didn't mind shielding Harry from his darker realities.
"What do you do?"
"My grandfather has a house in Spain. My family usually goes there,"
"But you don't," Harry wasn't asking a question. He'd probably learned enough about Louis now to sense the delicate way he worded things. 'My family' never meant he was a part of it.
Louis shook his head, "nope,"
Harry sighed, and Louis could sense the pity behind it, but Harry tried to work passed it. He grabbed Louis hand and placed it carefully on his chest, "they should invite you. Lottie would want you there,"
"We'll see," and Louis kind of hated himself for the little flicker of hope that happened inside of him. He hated that he wanted it to change. Everything else was so different, that for some really fucked up reason, he felt like this should be, too. He knew better than to hope that this would be the year they remembered to invite him, but he was already hoping. Maybe Lottie would change things for him. Who knew?
Harry's gaze shifted back to the movie after that. He was quiet a long time, still holding Louis' hand to his chest. The movie played away and Louis tried not to think about the way he'd broken down just hours ago. Tried to imagine that Harry wasn't going to hold that against him. It hadn't been pretty, and more pathetically, Louis had been blubbering about something that he didn't even know. All he knew was that something had happened in the pool that first made him feel like he'd been electrocuted, suffocated and simultaneously like he'd been in cardiac arrest.
When the credits came up, Harry was looking up at Louis again. He wound his fingers through Louis' where they were resting on his chest. Harry seemed to favour positions like this. He always wanted the physical reassurance of their closeness, but Louis didn't mind. He'd mostly come to expect it of him.
"Thanks for sitting through that with me," said Harry as he stared up at Louis, "Niall would never sit through romance movies with me. He just makes fun of me," laughed Harry.
"I don't mind," said Louis, truthfully.
"You don't think I'm super lame for loving romantic comedies?" Asked Harry, squeezing Louis' hand playfully.
"'Course I do," joked Louis, "but I still don't mind,"
"I'm a hopeless romantic, you know," Harry mused, looking away from Louis then. He stared back at the television screen. "Niall always makes fun of me because my life ambitions always include getting married and having babies,"
"I thought you wanted to be a drama teacher,"
"I do, but that's only part of it. I want things to go home to,"
Louis nodded once, because here was Harry expressing his life ambitions again, and Louis hadn't even decided what his major was going to be.
"What about you, Lou?"
Louis didn't really have an answer, so he opted for humour, "No, I don't want to be a drama teacher,"
Harry tugged his hand playfully and gave a small laugh, "it's okay if you're not sure,"
Louis nodded again, "okay,"
"But," said Harry, serious all of a sudden, "it's okay, too, to have dreams. Even if they're just for the boring stuff. I know things haven't really come easily for you, but you can still have the things you want. You deserve more than you give yourself credit for,"
"Thanks," said Louis, not really knowing anything more to say. Harry always spoke with more depth than he could ever muster.
"If, it turns out you're a hopeless romantic, too, though," started Harry, "can I please be the first to know?"
Somewhere in the second movie, Harry had fallen asleep. Louis knew this because there was a wet spot on his jeans from where he'd started to drool and Harry's body had twitched a couple of times as he fell into a deeper sleep. Louis didn't mind it. Harry was content here with him and he would have done anything to keep it that way. He might have been completely clueless a lot of the time, but no matter how badly he was struggling through it, and how many times he'd tripped and nearly fucked it all up, Harry was still here. Best of all, Harry was still the same. He was still the kind, giving person who was more than willing to overlook all of Louis' short comings.
Louis reached beside him and grabbed the blanket that was there. He laid it over Harry's body. He leaned his head back against the couch, yawning himself. He was tired too, and as shitty of a position it was that he was trapped in, he wasn't about to wake Harry and ruin it all. He'd take the stiff neck in the morning if it meant keeping Harry comfortable.
***
"Lou?" Harry's voice was heavy and laced with sleep. He was sitting up, now, next to Louis, stretching his arms and yawning.
"Mmm," was all Louis managed, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. He was groggy and confused.
"You can't be comfy," said Harry, voice gravelly, he grabbed one of the throw pillows and rested it against the arm of the sofa, "lay down," he instructed Louis and Louis was too tired to argue.
He was still lost in that strange place between sleep and wakefulness and he forgot to suggest that there was at least a dozen beds they should have been sleeping in. Instead, he followed the instruction and rested his head on the pillow, his face facing into the back of the couch. Without hesitation, he felt Harry shifting behind him. There were three couches in the room, and when he was more awake he was probably going to be able to better analyze why Harry was choosing to settle in next to him.
He felt Harry's chest press against his back. Harry's head rested next to his on the pillow and he nuzzled his face against the back of Louis' neck. Without hesitation, Harry wrapped an arm around Louis' chest, lifting Louis' arm to fit tighter. Harry grabbed onto one of Louis' hands and gave it a tight squeeze.
"Goodnight, Lou," he said against the back of Louis' neck as he wound his ankle around one of Louis'.