Okay, so I'm really sorry that my last chapter is really dumb and short and stupid. It's just that a CERTAIN SOMEONE *cough *cough Sophia Delgado (lol sorry Sophie) keeps telling me to update every time I'm done.....updating. She may be my best friend but I still hate her. But...I would like to give credit to you for making my new cover for me :)
Thank you....
Anyways:
So she rushed me. Jk love you...... -_-
And I have no inspiration, other than the song In My Veins, which is, by the way, depressing as hell. But that is the only song I listen to 24/7, and when I write. So...everyday of every hour, I guess.
Also, hopefully I can at least get Niall into this chapter. Then Liam hopefully. Very hopeful.
But, anywhores, lush my non readers
Baiiiiii.
HARRY'S' POV
"Harry!" I hear the obnoxious yell that doesn't aid me, but pound through my head. I don't beam back, though. I don't want to see Zayn's face. Obviously, he doesn't interpret the words coming from my mouth when I had specifically told him to stay away from me. I proceed walking through the hall of the school, on my mannerly way to Louis' locker so I can return him back home. "Harry! Listen to me!"
I feel a hand grip my shoulder, rotating me around. I clasp the flower crown on top of my head, attempting to keep it from descending to the floor as my head spins.
"Ugh." I utter as I take a look at Zayn's face.
His eyebrows thin, his head turning back a bit, as if I wasn't making that noise towards him. "Why are you wearing that? What's been up with you, Haz-"
"Do not call me Haz." I sneer, beginning my whole 'speech' that I have prepared for him. "Look, Zayn. I've tried so hard to like you. I have really, really tried. I've tried being friends with you, I've tried being nice to you, I've tried playing this game that you have going on, I've tried everything that I didn't want to do, but it was for you because we were supposed to be friends, but I cannot be friends with you. I don't want you talking, looking, or even breathing around me. And like I said two times before, but you just don't have the right brain to process anything, do not speak to me and stay away." I smirk almost cockily and try to walk away, but his hand grabs my shoulder once again.
He commences to say something but I shove his hand off and travel to where Louis is supposed to be, disregarding the pleads from Zayn. I make it to the end of the hall and turn the corner to where Louis' locker is and see him seated against the lockers, his butt to the ground and his eyes locked to his phone.
He looks so adorable when he's focused.
His slim and bony fingers are wrapped around the back of his white Samsung Galaxy. He bites his lip and continues focusing on his game, or whatever he's doing, in a way that makes my stomach kind of turn.
I smile to myself, walking to where he is. "Louis." I utter, but loud enough for him to hear it and his head turns up, as well as the corners of his mouth.
"Hello, Harry. A-are you ready?" he asks, turning his phone off and stuffing it into his blue jeans.
I nod, possessing my hand out to assist him up from the tile flooring, as he takes it, grinning extensively. He wipes his butt with his hands, ridding the dirt that had packed on him when he was sitting down and walks with me towards the front double doors that makes a paseo to the parking lot.
Once we make it out, I open the door belonging to the passenger side and allow Louis to climb in, and yes, I didn't waste time but looking at his arse. He may be bony and very weedy, but his butt sure isn't.
He makes it in and I close the door, getting in on my side as we both buckle. I force the key into the ignition, crooking it and commencing the engine to turn on. I turn my head to Louis, giving him a soft smile as I drive off.
As soon as I make it to Louis', he turns to me, unable to open his door.
His throat clears as he opens his mouth, as to speak. "H-Harry. Can you, um-is it possible that we could just...hang out a bit?"
I grin, rubbing his knuckles on the top of his hand that is rested on the middle cup holders. I mean, it wouldn't really matter. My parents don't give one damn about where I am or where I go. They don't pay attention to me anyhow. So I nod. "Of course, Lou."
He bites his lip while smiling, un-enclosing the door, as I mimic his actions. He walks in front of me, searching through his pencil pouch, that sits in his binder, for his key.
"My mum shouldn't be home." he begins. "She's working late today."
I nod, evincing to myself that we have the house un-socially to ourselves. Even though Louis and I aren't even close to being together, it still makes me feel awesome, or better, in a way.
He finally unseals his door, walking inside, departing from me, leaving me to close the entree. He turns around, bumping into me. I hold his back as his stomach compresses against the end of my torso, causing me to smirk. I watch as his cheeks become as pink as his shoes, deeding my smirk to become wider than it is.
"Sorry." he mutters.
I bite the bottom of my lip. "Don't be sorry." I say and he really should not be sorry. Really.
He clasps his mouth with the full palm of his hand, giggles flighting from his throat, making me chuckle and my stomach deform into knots.
"I-I'm sorry." he says again, in between the small, petite giggles that he seems to contain.
"Don't be, Louis." I laugh, looking down at him. "T-this, um....this is kind of nice."
He stops tittering, his receptors looking over my face, his cheeks becoming chromatic once more. He backs away, biting his lip, looking at mine, as if he is thinking of kissing me. Because I know I am.
He unclogs his throat. "Let's go upstairs." he begins. "To my room."
I nod, taking ahold of his arm, allowing him to trail me up his stairs, where his threshold starts.
We make it up and Louis opens his door, revealing his astonishing room. The one full of delicate, pastel and pinkish-purplish colours, top to bottom.
Today, his sheer sheet that drapes over his bed is now untied, allowing it to flow across in an intact amount of ways, with no where to sit, but the edge of the bed, where I sit to my comfort level.
Louis lifts the canvas that spreads across his bed, getting inside. "You can come in." he chuckles.
I do as I am being told to do and crawl my way inside with him. He smiles, sitting criss-cross, his hands resting in his inner thighs. I mimic and look at him. Just gawk and gaze at his resplendent face.
His blasphemous, profaned eyes that seem to just radiate and shine against the light. His plume-like hair that is disheveled and rumpled every which way; I can just feel my hands slipping through each strand. His parted lips look so velvety and yielding as I think of how gentle they would feel against mine.
That's when I open my mouth, as to ask a question. "Louis," I begin, waiting for him to nod in understanding that I am allowed to go on. "Have you ever kissed anyone?"
His eyebrows thin, as he shakes his head. "No." he respires. "N-never."
I nod, hanging my head to look at his floor. "Oh."
"Have you?" he blunders.
My head snaps to look at him. "Um...yeah."
His throat quaffs at his spit. "Can I ask you something?" he begins and I nod. "Kissing. H-how does it feel?"
I grip my bottom lip with my front tooth, thinking for a moment for the right answer. "Well. It only feels good when it's with someone you love, I guess."
He tilts his head to the side in the most endearing way possible. "Have you ever been in love?"
Suddenly there is a pungent taste in my mouth that only seems to linger on my tongue, causing my stomach to twist and turn. Have I ever been in love? I have no idea. So the only answer I could think of was: "Not yet."
He nods. "I haven't. U-until..."
My abdomen rotates into clumps. "Until what?"
He shakes his head. "Nothing."
"Oh."
He gets out from under the sheer sheet and lifts his jumper from over his torso.
I lift my hands to my eyes, blocking my vision. "Sorry, I'll turn around." I say, turning my body.
I hear him chuckle. "You don't have to...Haz."
I turn back around, staring at his half naked body. "How did you-"
"I heard you arguing with Zayn." he says, pursing his lips together.
I nod. "Oh."
"Yeah." he says, starting to undress again.
He stares at me as I gawk back at him, his eyes full of want.
I really need to kiss him. I really, really need to. But I can't. Louis makes me feel scared. It's like I want him, but I don't feel good enough to have him. And I also feel like he doesn't like me that way.
I don't know. I'm just confused.
I feel my back pocket vibrate, alerting me that I have a call. I obtain my phone from my pants and begin to swipe until I notice who's calling.
I crisply intake a sizable amount of air. Zayn. Why hadn't I gotten rid of his puny contact?
I neglect the call and look back at Louis, who only induces me to smile. That is until my phone vibrates once again.
This time it's just the voicemail. What the fuck is wrong with him? What kind of mentality does his brain have?
"Speaking of Zayn." I respire, clasping my phone up to my ear.
"You have one unheard message:" i hear the robot lady thing say. Then Zayn's voice comes up, spitting sentences at me in one stupid recording. "Harry, man. Can you just talk to me? I don't know what the fucks been up with you lately. Just...talk. Please. Okay. Call me back. Zayn."
I roll my eyes, clashing my phone against Louis' bed and lying down next to it.
Louis finishes slipping a pink tee over his head and gets back under the sheer sheet, lying down next to me.
I feel my stomach twist and my arms and back shutter at the sudden touch, his hand gently lying atop of my torso. My breath hitches when I feel his head nuzzle against my arm.
"I'm tired." he squeaks.
I hide my lips in my mouth and nod. "Yeah. Maybe I should go home?" I ask, unhopeful that he says yes.
I look down at him, his eyes droopy with dissatisfaction. He opens his mouth, as to speak. "Y-you could stay...a little longer, if you'd like."
I feel the corners of my mouth turn upward as I lie back down. "Okay."
After about five minutes, I hear Louis' breath become a bit more slow and steadied and I know he's asleep.
I lean down, giving him a tiny kiss on top of his hair-covered forehead. I rid the red and white, vined flower crown from my head, setting it on top of his dresser, after slipping from his loose grip.
I admire his small image, before seizing my phone and leaving from his bedroom and down the stairs.
I open up the messages from my phone, sending Louis a message for when he wakes up.
Me: Hey, Lou. You fell asleep and I need to go home. Have a nice sleep, love. :)
I lug my phone back into my pocket and walk through the door to perceive the image of another car in the driveway. Hopefully Louis' mum has gotten back so he's not unaccompanied when he wakes up. But as I continue walking, I see someone familiar. But not Louis' mum.
The black, quiffed hair, the golden-caramel sinister eyes, the tanned skin. It's Zayn.
His head crooks to me. "I knew it." he says, causing my already confusion as to why he knew where Louis' home was, becomes a bigger cluster of discombobulation.
I constrict my eyebrows, knitting them together. "How did you-"
"Are you really that dumb, Harry?" he begins. "I just followed you to Louis' house. Wow, you really are stupid."
"Zayn, just leave." I object, pointing towards his car.
But he only grimaces and laughs at my significant amount of confidence. "You are really funny, Haz."
"I said don't call me Haz." I close my eyes, struggling to keep my calm.
"You can't tell me what to do, Haz. You can't tell me to do anything." he says, mocking me, pointing at me.
I exhale heavily, closing my eyes once more. "Zayn, please-"
"No!" he screams. "No! Y-you-you can't just do this to me! We were best friends-"
"We were never best friends, Zayn. I was forced to like you. I have always hated you and I always will."
He begins to arise at me, his fist clenched into the crisp air, until somebody opens the door.
Both of our heads turn and I see Louis' gorgeous image walking out from the threshold. His hands are lazily rubbing at his tired, red eyes. "What's going on?" he asks groggily, fists at his eyes and a yawn softly escaping
My anger wipes from my body and my heart melts at his adorable mess. His hair even more tousled than usual and his droopy eyes bluer than ever.
"Louis." I murmur under my breath.
"This is your fault." I hear Zayn shout.
Then it was almost like everything came together in slow motion. My mind went vacuous as I saw Zayn barrel towards Louis. And before I was able to halt anything from happening, Zayn's fist collided with Louis' left cheek, causing him to spill to the grass.
I heave, running at Louis' limp body. I could hear small weeps from deep within his throat as he curled into my embrace. "Louis, no." I whisper, forcing his body against mine.
I look up at Zayn, tears spurring down my face. "How could you?" I sneer, getting up from the grass.
I hike my arm into the air, connecting my fisted hand to Zayn's face, crimson blood rushing from his cheek.
I look down at my knuckles, finding them to be a purplish, bluish colour. "Leave!" I scream, kicking at Zayn's ribcage.
He holds his stomach, looking up at me with his disgraceful eyes. "Harry-"
"I said leave!" tears are now running down my face once more, and sweat screening my face.
And as Zayn gets up, jetting off to his car and impulsively driving away, his tires screeching down the street, I see Louis' mum pull up. I look back at Louis as she gets out, rushing to her son's side.
Her hands travel on every part of his face as her breathes stutter. "L-Louis. My baby."
She turns to me, looking back and forth from my face to my fisted hand. Her eyebrows narrow. "You did this, didn't you?"
My breath hitches. "No, no, no. M-Mrs. Tomlinson. I-I would never-"
"Go!" she yells, aiding Louis' injured and tear-ariled face.
"Mum-" Louis whimpers, wiping the excess tears from his eyelids.
"I said go! You are never to see Louis again, you hear me? Never!"
Then I left. No words could describe my hurt. No words could describe the pain that sunk to the bottom, the pits, of my stomach.
But I was in shock.
I got into my car. And I left.