Louis inches closer to Harry, rubbing their noses together. Harry places his hands in the back of Louis' jeans pockets and presses slightly, trying to bring him closer to his face. Yet as the gap is inches away from closing, Louis stands up and acts like nothing happened.
Awkwardness erupts in the atmosphere.
"I'm sorry," he says as he makes his way back down the stairs and sits on an oversized section couch in the middle of the condo.
It took Harry a few minutes to become oriented and wrap his head around what had just unfolded. His internal dialogue immediately turns negative.
Well, that was just too soon. He hasn't even let me take him out yet. I think I just blew all my chances.
He wants to retreat to his room and hide for the rest of the night. Instead, he utilizes healthy coping skills and decides it's best to salvage what he can of the evening. He sways down the stairs, the alcohol still rushing through his veins, and sits beside Louis.
"Don't apologize, Lou." He folds his feet together, resting his knees on the couch cushion.
Louis doesn't reply nor looks in Harry's direction. He stretches his legs out, feeling a solid ache in his ankle. The alcohol has dulled it somewhat, and he's thankful for that. He can feel himself sweat and wonders if he'll be well enough to play soccer this season. Maybe it's what Clay wants (to make sure I'm benched again. It wouldn't surprise Louis one bit. He always knew all the ways to make him suffer the most.
Observing his discomfort, Harry decides to give his calves another massage, focusing predominantly on Louis' right ankle. They stare at each other on opposite ends of the couch, smiling somewhat but not saying a word.
"I'm next in line. These heels are killing me!" Taylor exclaims as she barges through the door, slipping out of her shoes. She sits on the edge of the couch behind Louis. Harry gives her an I don't think so look, and with that, she gets up and moves toward Ed. "Well, you guys are lame!" She scoffs. "Since we're all tipsy, I say we play two truths and a lie."
Liam and Zayn enter through the door, holding each other up and laughing at an inside joke. I'm not drunk enough for this, Harry thinks. Or maybe I'm just drunk enough.
"I'll go first," Taylor interjects. "I am 5'7, I have natural blonde hair, and I lost my virginity at 20."
The room analyzed her before Zayn finally spoke up. "Your lie is you lost your virginity at 20."
"How'd you know?" She playfully pushes him.
"Lucky guess..." He sarcastically retorts. "Okay, um...I'm a Capricorn. My middle name is Javadd. I can play the guitar."
"Bullshit," Ed coughs. "You've been begging for me to teach you how to play the guitar for two years now."
Harry mostly tunes everyone out as he catches glimpses of Louis with his peripheral vision. Under the illuminating condo lights, he can see the purple blemish on Louis's cheek, the wounds on his arms, and the overall melancholy state of his emotions.
"Um..." he hears the soft but rugged voice speak. "I won MVP in high school...."
Check, Harry smiles.
"I have a lot of sisters....."
Check, wait, does he?
"These bruises are from me falling....."
Oh no.
"Louis!" Liam jumps in front of him. "What the hell is going on?"
"I don't get it!" Taylor shrugs. "You don't have a lot of sisters?"
"I do..." Louis says as he and Liam engage in a stare-off.
Harry bites his lip as he nervously wonders what's going to become of the conversation. Was everyone too drunk to provide Louis the catharsis he's seeking at the moment?
Liam knows. Harry can tell that he knows from the way his fists are clenching. "Always here for you, Mate," he clutches Louis tightly.
Ed and Taylor look around the room, too drunk to put the pieces together. "I give up. Which one is a lie?" Ed asks curiously.
Louis walks over to the sink, splashing water on his face and revealing the bruising that's now a mixture of charcoal and dirty paint water. He removes his shirt and turns around to let everyone see his injuries. Too drunk to feel vulnerable, he scoffs. "I guess there is no lie. I fell....into Clay's fist over and over again."
The room falls quiet as Louis falls onto his knees. Harry kneels down beside him. Louis gives him an affirming look as he tells him to continue the game since it's his turn. Harry clumsily tries to help him up, but of course, he trips over his own feet, causing them both to land on their backs.
The room spins for both of them as the alcohol reaches its total capacity in their bloodstreams. "Hmm....2 truths and a lie.....I love Pilates, my favorite drink is cherry cola, and I would love it if Louis kissed me right now."
Many wolf whistles and cat callings are heard. Harry's thankful the notion lightens up the air in the room. He looks at Louis as he tries to read his mind, but he can't. Liam and Zayn make bets if Louis will kiss him or not.
"You want me to kiss you, Styles?" Louis reaches out and caresses his cheek. Harry closes his eyes in anticipation as Louis briskly stands on his feet. He tries to go up the stairs quickly but slows down when the pain in his ankle sets in. "Then catch me! I'm locking the door. If you don't make it by the time that happens, you've lost your chance!"
Harry tries to run up the stairs with all his poise and grace. Nature and genetics are on his side for this endeavor, luckily, as his long legs quickly can climb up and miss 2-3 stairs at once. Just as Louis is about to close the door, he puts his arm in to stop him.
"I won," Harry sticks out his tongue. Louis giggles at his determination. "I know you didn't mean it, though. You don't want me to kiss you. You just want to get away from everyone without ruining the mood because of what happened, don't you?"
"No," Louis inches closer to him. Harry can feel a hot breath on his cheek. He wraps his arms around Harry's neck, pulling him closer. They stand that way for a few minutes, keeping their eyes closed.
Harry wants to make a move. It's taking everything in his being not to. He most certainly isn't crazy. He knows that Louis feels this, too, because his lower body is pressed against his own and gives away his secrets.
He knows he can't, however, not when Louis had lost control over his life long ago. He read it in his trauma narrative. He often lost control: The first time Clay mentally abused him before physically doing so, the first time he refused to eat, or when his mom was diagnosed with cancer and subsequently lost her. Harry wants to be someone Louis chooses in life, not feel obligated to return feelings he doesn't have.
Louis inches closer to him before whispering, "You give really good massages."
Giggling, Harry clutches onto him tightly. "Thank you."