"I love you not because of what you are, but because of what I am when I am with you.
I love you, not for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me.
I love you, for the part of me that you bring out."
- Love; Roy Croft
Harry let out an audible gasp, and his first instinct was to run far, far away and never come back. He couldn't let Dr. Tomlinson see him like this. His hair was messier than usual, his clothes were wrinkled, his cheeks were flushed, and he was sweating, and he was wearing that damn brown sweater. He looked absolutely atrocious. But Harry knew that running was immature, so he decided to take a deep breath and man up.
"Dr. T-Tomlinson! Um, what are you doing, uh, here?"
Dr. Tomlinson smiled, his lips curving upwards just right, and Harry swore that, for a second, time stopped moving. "Call me Louis."
For some reason, Harry couldn't hide the blush that started creeping up his neck, and he looked at the ground, suddenly self-conscious. "Okay, Louis," Harry whispered, and he mentally slapped himself.
Get a grip, Harry. People like him don't crush on people like you. Just move on and save yourself the heartbreak.
But even as he thought that, Harry knew that it was much more complicated than that. He was going to be seeing Dr. Tomlinson for God-knows-how-long, so getting over this small "crush" wasn't going to be easy. Harry wasn't even sure if it was possible to forget about the blue-eyed lad.
"So, what are you doing here, Harry?"
Harry snapped out of thoughts, getting embarrassed when he realized that he had zoned out. "Um, well, I'm obviously, y'know, getting some milk. I would've thought you'd be brighter than that, Dr.Tomlin--Louis, seeing as you're a therapist and all."
Harry couldn't help but joke with the older boy, a barely noticible smile present on his lips as he spoke, his former insecurities and embarrassement washing away with one look into those endless eyes. He hadn't felt peaceful in a while. And, for the first time, Harry realized how much he missed the feeling. He had almost forgotten about the content, fuzzy emotions he had when he was reading about a pirate, or a prince in disguise. He had lost it a while ago, when he had stopped reading books.
And he had found that feeling once again, but in someone he'd never expected to find it with. His therapist. Harry felt a surge of affection for Louis, but this time, it wasn't because of the smile, or the eyes, or the hair, or even the lips. It was because of the feelings that he awakened inside Harry. The feeling that Harry was experiencing was so good, so pure, and Harry found that he wanted to feel it more.
He was more than a little confused when he came to the conclusion, because no one had been able to evoke the feeling in him. Not his sister, not even his mum! So who was this therapist--someone he'd only known since Friday--to influence Harry's life, especially when the two didn't know each other that well? Why was it that this man he barely knew was making Harry experience things he had almost forgotten about? What was it about Louis that made Harry react like this?
Louis smirked, and Harry felt his heart clench because there was something in those damn eyes of Louis,' and Harry didn't know what it was, but he just couldn't get enough of it. "Getting cheeky, are we, Mr. Styles?"
Harry internally swooned because the way his last name rolled off Louis' lips made him want to jump his bones, and he had to curl his toes to control himself. He hated how a mere boy was making him all giddy like a school girl but he really couldn't help it, and the way Louis' muscles flexed when he lifted his arm to run it through his hair wasn't helping at all.
It was so easy to forget that Louis was his therapist in a place that wasn't his office. It was so easy to conveniently not remember that he was the patient, and Louis was the therapist, and this really wasn't supposed to work out with each other.
But right now, laughing with Louis and teasing him, Harry realized that nothing had ever felt so... Good. Nothing had ever felt so right. Was it even possible for something this natural to be wrong?
But he couldn't let go of this nagging feeling he had. For some reason, forgetting about Louis seemed like a decision that he would regret for the rest of his life. Almost as if he had this one chance to be happy, and he was throwing it all away. The rational part of Harry's brain couldn't help but think of the idea as stupid. How could this man he barely knew be his only chance at happiness? Surely, there were other ways.
When Harry and Louis decided to pay for the milk, they both walked over to the counter side by side, each boy with a light, content smile on their face. Harry paid for his milk first, then waited on the side while Louis paid.
Harry could tell the cashier at the counter was trying to flirt with him when he had been paying for his milk, but he didn't pay much attention to her. He knew that her name was Sasha, or something that started with an "s," but he also knew that she had gone to boarding school most of her life, and therefore didn't know many people in the town. A small part of him felt sorry for her, because she had no idea that he wasn't interested in girls, but the rest of his mind was occupied with other things. Like staring at Louis' bum.
That arse of his ...
He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Louis calling out to him, and the two leisurely made their way outside. Because they were both too occupied in their conversation, neither noticed that the weather had noticibly changed while they had been inside. Instead of the sun shining brightly overhead, it was now dark and stormy, and clouds were covering the previously light sky and angrily pelting raindrops to the ground.
Harry wasn't surprised. This was, after all, England. It rained here from time to time. On more than one occasion, Harry had ended up coming home soaking wet. He said his goodbyes to Louis, then started the dreadful walk home, wishing that he would be smart enough to carry an umbrella with him everywhere.
He was already soaked, and he had barely been in the rain for five minutes. His clothes were slick and wet with rain and he could feel it seeping into his socks, wetting them as well, and he was clutching the bag like his life depended on it, shivering madly. He repeatedly kept brushing his wet curls back. It was then that he felt a sleek, black car slow down beside him, and his heart started thudding in his chest at all the possibilites as to who could be in there. A murderer? A theif? A spy? Perhaps an alien from outer space that secretly had an obsession to him?
Idiot. No one would have an obsession with you. You're worthless.
When the windows were rolled down, Harry realized it was Louis, and his heart was still thudding in his chest, but it was for a completely different reason now, and he got a queazy feeling in his stomach at the sight of his therapist sitting in the car, hands on the wheel, trying to look responsible and miserably failing. And all of a sudden, Harry was feeling incredibly warm, even though the rain was icy cold on his skin.
"You're drenched, Harry. Let me give you a lift."
"Oh, n-no, it's okay, Louis, I'm perfectly fin--"
"Don't even say you're perfectly fine, Harry. You're soaking wet. You'll get a cold if you keep walking in this weather. Let me give you a lift."
Harry hesitated for a bit, but one look at the beautiful car, and the even more beautiful man inside, and Harry knew his answer. "Okay."
He opened the door and climed inside, putting his bag of milk on his lap and also securing himself by putting on his seat belt. When he was settled, he recited his address to Louis, who muttered something about it being a long walk, then started driving.
The ride was silent, but no uncomfortably so. Oddly, Harry felt content. He wasn't sure why, because silence had always unnerved him, but he was quickly starting to realize that Louis Tomlinson brought on feelings in him that he couldn't explain. They just were.
A ringtone of Ed Sheeran broke the silence.
And they say, she's in the class A Team,
Stuck in her daydrea--
"Hello?"
"Louis! Thank god you picked up! Listen, there's this emergency. Like, a really big emergency. Please, please, please come back home and help me or else I'll die!"
With that, the caller hung up, leaving both Louis and Harry utterly shocked. Harry wasn't sure who the caller was, but he could tell that Louis and him were very close, and the knowledge brought on a wave of emotions that he wasn't sure he was capable of feeling: Jealousy.
"Harry, you wouldn't mind if we took a little detour, would you?"
A/N: I've decided to put up a quote before each chapter, so check out the ones I added to the previous chapters if you're curious, & don't hesitate to post quotes you think would fit the story/chapter in the comments section :)
Unedited. Something you'll find with me especially is that I don't like to edit. At all. So if you ever see any errors or something stupid, please do tell me in the comments section. & also don't forget that feedback & all [as well as votes, wink wink] is greatly appreciated.
Ohohoh, before I forget: The whole plot for this story is still undecided. I'm trying to keep this fic about as long as 30-35 chapters, but no longer, & that's the only restriction. So if you have anything that you'd like for me to include in the fic, feel free to leave us your opinion in the comments section, or PM us.
- Amy.