"You've got to get the bed." Louis simply rolls over, it's only been three days. Liam was acting like he hasn't seen daylight in a week. His friend sighs. "Louis, you have a pile of work on your desk, that's not like you." He pauses. "You should forget about him, you know."
Louis wishes it were that simple. He loved Harry, he kissed Harry who made it clear he had no feelings for him. He knew Liam was somewhat aware of what happened, having met up with Zayn who filled him in. He had no clue of their kiss though, Louis wants to keep it a secret. Not only for Harry's sake but for his as well. He doesn't think he can fully absorb the fact he had Harry, and Harry pushed him away. There was a different direction this could have went, that way involved Harry kissing him some more and they would have spent the day in bed wrapped up in each other's arms. Louis couldn't understand Harry. He's seen him kiss a boy and enjoy it, then he kisses Louis and everything goes down the drain.
Louis' tried to push Harry's existence into the back of his mind but his notepad with everything from their sessions for the headline stares back at him. He can't let Joseph down because of his feelings—the real world didn't work like that and that might be the lesson here. Maybe Louis should be the bigger person, he should remain strictly professional with Harry. Forget their kiss, most importantly forget his love for him. But he can't. Harry was all too much for his poor brain, his poor heart and Louis tried but after Harry's hurtful words, he couldn't see him again and fall in love all over again. It should be illegal for Louis to feel this way. For him to be so devoted to someone who hurt him—he should be relieved of all the suffering.
Later that day, after Liam had left for football practice and gave Louis a sandwich from the shop on campus. Louis has dressed warmly once again, munching on his sandwich and standing outside the English building. Joseph's lecture room is there, just down the hall and on the right.
Louis is going to tell Joseph he can't do the April headline, and he should pass it onto Patricia. She and Harry weren't a match but it would be bearable. Patricia was funny and Harry was sarcastic, she was confident and Harry had an ego the size of the moon. Louis was none of those things, it's no wonder why Harry didn't want him. Louis was quiet, wore clothes too big and too old, he carried around a different book every three days and spent his free time in the library or in his dorm. He vowed to never go to another party, not after what happened before, that was the first and last time Louis will ever be drunk.
But Harry must've been attracted to him somehow, or at least attracted to men.
"I'm not gay. I will never kiss a boy. I will never kiss you."
Harry lied to Louis and to himself. It was clear that Harry had an inner conflict he couldn't win, and by losing, he was hurting Louis. Whenever Louis was hurt, he isolated himself to be alone with his thoughts and his own self-pity. It was destructive but it was him. But, Joseph deserved better than Louis when he was self-destructive.
Once Louis opens the door, he immediately hides behind the corner. Down the hall was Harry, not alone but with the girl from the library. She was pressing him up against the wall, with her hands braced on Harry's hips.
"C' mon, we haven't fucked since last week." Louis shivers, debating if he should just make a run for it. Maybe Harry wouldn't see him if the girl held his attention a little longer.
"I'm just not in the mood."
"You haven't been in the mood since you made that kid cry."
Louis stiffens. He subconsciously digs his nails into the palms of his hands. "I didn't make him cry."
"Oh yeah?" The girl laughs bitterly. "It wasn't until you opened your big mouth he cried like a baby."
"Shut up," Harry's voice gets louder, Louis is afraid someone else in the hall will hear. "Why'd you even bring up his clothes?"
"Why did you side with me?"
"I didn't side with anyone."
"That's rich, Styles. You made it clear who you sided with when you made him cry. Who would've thought you'd lose yourself over some nerd."
Louis gulps, refusing the move until he hears the footsteps fade in the other direction. The memories from Sunday rushing in and pushing all his rationalities to the back of his mind, Harry couldn't have been protecting him now—not after treating him so horribly the last couple days. Harry losing himself over Louis was a stretch, hell, he made it clear he didn't care about him. There was no telling what was going on between him and the girl in order to know why she said that—the hopeful part of Louis still dreamed of having Harry as his. It was a fantasy that would never be fulfilled.
"You can come out now." Harry's voice sounded a lot closer now. "Louis, I know you're there."
With red cheeks, Louis steps out from behind the wall. He twiddles his thumbs, standing straighter when Harry's shoes come into view. A chill runs up his spine when a hand goes under his chin, bringing his head up. Harry was so beautiful, his godly appearance taking Louis' breath away. His face was soft, eyes gentle and lips parted. Louis knew his face was as red as a freshly picked cherry.
"Do you want to get some hot chocolate?" Harry asks quietly, keeping his fingers under Louis' chin. Louis' thoughts are all over the place, he forgets about Joseph, the headline, the girl, the party, his first kiss with Harry—all because the man he's in love with was patiently tracing shapes under his chin. "Or, we could go somewhere else." Harry pulls away, but Louis chases his hand. He holds Louis' face between his palms, his warm palms comforting the coldness of Louis' cheeks. "We could go to your dorm. More private, I suppose."
On the way to Louis' dormitory, they walk with more than a foot between them. Louis' goosebumps still present from when Harry touched him kindly and tenderly, he was hopeless with Harry. The campus was littered with a few students, the few who chose willingly to be outside in the winter. Harry was wearing shorts and a hoodie like always, Louis would tell him to dress warmer but from the simple touch of Harry's hands, he knew well enough that he had a strangely hotter-than-normal body temperature.
They've been sitting on Louis' bed for a few minutes when suddenly Harry lunges and Louis feels pillowy lips on his. It's not like his first kiss, Louis notes, it's reserved. It holds the same eagerness but it's more controlled and knowing. Harry leads the kiss, his hands returning to Louis' cheeks and holding him close.
Louis melts instantly. The thirst for Harry being fed and his body sagging while he grips Harry's shoulders. A wash of just Harry takes Louis captive and he opens his mouth. Harry groans, one of his hands falling down the base of Louis' neck to pull at his cardigan. Harry's lips are different, they're tamed and collected, he explores Louis' mouth with an intimacy that's found in life long partners. Louis is the opposite, he's in a trance with his fingernails digging into Harry's sweater and his body quickly reacting to being kissed. Louis knows he's crying when he feels wet tears drip down his cheeks.
When Harry's hand slips down further, under the hem of his cardigan and touches the lowest part of his belly. Louis pulls away. His eyes wide and chest rising and falling.
Harry looking calm and the smallest smile gracing his pink lips, "I've been wanting to do that again."
Louis brings his knees up and hides his red cheeks. He kissed Harry again, the same Harry who broke his heart and made it race, "You're not gay." His voice is muffled against the material of his pants.
Harry shifts on Louis' bed, his hair falling over his eyes before he runs a hand through it, "I might be." He picks up a book from the foot of Louis' bed and drags his fingers over the creased corners.
"You said you'd never kiss a boy." Louis peers at him from behind his fringe. "I saw you kissing a boy."
"I guess I am attracted to men, in some way." Harry shrugs.
"You said you would never kiss me."
"And yet, I did." Harry licks his lips. "Twice." Louis fully faces him, his expressions solemn. Harry continues. "I can be a real ass if I want, you must know that by now. I know that doesn't make up for the things I've done but you've taken over me."
"Who am I to you?" Louis doesn't move, afraid to disrupt the gentle air surrounding them. He was placing himself on thin ice, one wrong move and he could slip and fall into the ice-cold water. He was prepared this time, for the harsh words that would come from Harry's lips.
Harry's chest stills, his breaths pause as he thinks. His brain has been filled with nothing but Louis since he kissed him. Everything he saw brought him back to Louis. The blue sky because of Louis' eyes, the books stacked on his desk because Louis always walked around with a book in his hands, the five-year-old sweater in his closet damaged with holes because all of Louis' clothes had holes in it, and peppermint gum because Louis always smelt like peppermint. "You are Louis."
"Am I yours?"
Moment's pass and Harry only gulps. Of course, he's fantasized about Louis but with his reputation and his image—he can't date a man. Though Harry's heart desperately begs to be closer with Louis, physically, emotionally, and Harry can't ignore it's pleading. "If you want to be."
"I want." Louis shuffles up the bed, not daring to stray too far from Harry's warmth. He feels his eyes sting from all the crying and sniffles quietly. "Are you mine?"
Harry smiles, it's strained and doesn't reach his red-rimmed eyes. "Only on Sundays."
Louis could live with that.