chapter twenty - three
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Louis sighed, knowing for a fact that he wouldn't be able to make it home by himself in his condition. He was on the losing end of this battle and for some odd reason he just didn't seem to care. His hands were folded on top the table as he watched Harry eat. "Get used to me pushing you away, Harry."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry mumbled, picking at his scone again. What did it mean? Louis knew what it meant; but did he mean it?
"It, well, it means we're friends, Harry. Unless you don't want to be." Louis said, slightly uncertain if Harry wanted to be friends or not. After all, Louis was a bit of a douchebag about 99% of the time. He did that on purpose sometimes, though. Not always, it's only with Harry where his level of cruelty becomes uncontrollable; and he had yet to figure out why.
"No, no," Harry spoke quickly, moving his head to look up. It was there that Louis noticed how much Harry acted like he could still see. The only difference was - well - that he couldn't. "I do want to be friends, Lou. I really do."
"That's really great, Harry. I guess - since we're friends now - I should sort of apologize for the past and in advance. I am a huge asshole, so feel free to be cruel back. But, uhm, yeah sorry about the stuff I've said. And, like, I'm not homophobic or anything - just so you know." Louis continued rambling, but Harry payed little attention to the Doncaster boy. He was more concentrated on the fact that Louis was his friend.
Harry smiled to himself, his chin resting on his elbow as he tapped his index finger on the table. This action didn't go unnoticed by Louis, who had finally stopped speaking - not that Harry noticed th absence of Louis' voice or anything. Both boys sat in silence. One of them, on cloud nine about not being enemies; and the other admiring the beautiful boy in front of them.
And yes, the one doing the admiring was Louis.