I had been standing outside of the cafè for what felt like hours.
In reality it had probably been only five minutes, but you get the point.
I wanted to go In, I did, but my body felt paralyzed. I felt stuck in place, in time even. I'd made it this far, and I knew at some point I would enter, but still - I was terrified.
Once more, I was terrified.
Of what? Well hell if I knew.
If spoken to him once, I could do it again, right? Plus, here, with a public audience I doubt it result as the last conversation did.
Still, there was a pit in my stomach, a void I couldn't name or fill.
I took a breath in, but it hitched as my eyes caught a glimpse through the window of the cafe.
My iris's caught on a head of brunette hair and ice blue eyes, and I felt the void widen, shudder almost.
He wasn't looking at me but staring off into the distance as if in deep thought. Still, I doubted he hadn't caught me standing there like some lunatic.
I felt my face flush, and I shoved my hands into my pocket.
Well, I had to go in now.
I took a heavy step foreword, and although I could feel my own body pulling me back, I pushed ahead.
As I trudged through the door, I heard a familiar bell ring above me, then felt Louis's eyes dart toward me in almost impossible speed.
Damn that bell.
Though I could feel his gaze, it took everything in me not to meet it, for i knew if I did, I'd turn right back around and bolt.
So instead, I kept my eyes on the ground, and even as I went to take my seat, I didn't raise them.
I felt myself lower into my chair and went to run a hand through my -
"Ah, fuck."
So much for not looking up.
There was a sharp clash as the salt shaker fell to the ground, knocked over by my elbow. I could feel the eyes of the other diners, and my face flushed rapidly.
I heard a soft chuckle across from me, and then a word.
"Hi."
Finally, I looked up, and a swarm of emotions ran through me.
Before answering, I studied him, quickly, but fully. His eyes were surrounded in dark blue and purple half moons, and his hair looked greasy and unwashed. He wore a solemn, apologetic smile, and I cursed the butterflies in my stomach that rise at the sight of it.
He looked awful, distressed, exhausted even. And yet somehow, he still managed to look beautiful.
God how did he do that? And how the hell did it still affect me?
"Hi."
I willed my voice to sound angry, unimpressed even, but it was impossible.
"Well, you look like shit, styles."
His voice carried a sarcastic yet soulful tone, and it was all I could do to force myself not to crack a smile.
"Well, y'know," I spoke unevenly. "Rough night."
This struck something in Louis, and his smile faded, as he looked town at his cup of tea and began to stir it distractingly.
I felt a pain of guilt at my words, but I pushed it away. After all it was a rough night, wasn't it?
"Interesting place you picked Lou," I spoke again, a little lighter this time, and he looked up once more. His eyes had grown they're joking spark back, and I (for some reason) felt pride that I was the one to put it back.
"You know I love a good metaphor."
He looked at me then, dead in the eyes, and I was forced to crack a smile. I couldn't help it.
There was a bout of silence between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt normal, familiar almost. Anyone looking at us now probably thought they saw tension, but there was none.
"About-"
"About last night," Louis interrupted, "I'm sorry."
He spoke softly now, as if he were almost scared of his own words, ashamed of them. I looked at him intently, then down at his hands which were fidgeting endlessly. There was about her short bout of silence before I answered.
"What was that, Lou? Why were you there? Why did you..."
I trailed off, unable to find the words.
Why did he what? Attack me? Ambush me?
Or why did he decide last night to speak the truth, after all these years.
"To be honest, Harry, I don't fucking know."
I scoffed quietly, and instantly wished to take it back as I watched him flinch away from me.
I felt awful, but I hound my help my reaction. He didn't know? How the hell did he not know how he ended up infront of my apartment?
"I just," he spoke as if answering my thoughts, "ended up there I guess. I was drunk harry, really fucking drunk."
"Well, that was pretty apparent," I spoke half heartedly.
He chuckled cynically, and I couldn't help but do the same. As if there weren't enough things that had always drawn us together, now self deprivation seemed to be one of them.
"No, seriously Harry," he continued. "I was drinking pretty heavily at the party, and I saw Eleanor leave without me. After that, I guess I took a few more drinks and ended up leaving. I didn't know where I was going, I didn't even know where I was. And then suddenly, I found myself there, infront of your flat. I wanted to leave, really, I did."
His voice wavered, softened, and I felt myself being drawn into his story, held captive by his words. Silently, I willed him to go on, and after a moment, he did.
"But I couldn't." Louis exhaled, and I took this moment to study his face. It was strained, almost as if in pain, and I felt a sting in my heart.
"I felt stuck there for some reason. I wanted to talk to you, and not how I had. I had things I wanted to say, things I wanted to ask you. But instead, all of that bullshit came flooding out and I'm - "
His eyes looked glassy as he struggled to fishing his sentence.
"Fuck, I'm really sorry Harry."
I felt my lip quiver as I looked up at him and his glassy eyes. I felt an overwhelming gust of sympathy, of empathy. I wanted to comfort him, to touch him even. But then I glanced down at the ring encasing his finger, and I gathered my wits.
"Was it bullshit though?" My voice was uneven, unsure.
"Hmm?"
"Everything you said - was it bullshit?"
Louis looked up at me for a moment, and the chatter of the cafè seemed to disappear.
"I don't...I don't know." He let out a breath. "But it was wrong, Harry, and I'm sorry."
Before I could answer, a young and bright waitress appeared, a face I was familiar with.
"Well well we'll," she exclaimed in a kind tone, "I have t seen you boys here in ages! What brings you guys in here today?"
"Just catching up."
"Business meeting."
We both spoke at the same time, and I felt my face flush.
She smiled, almost knowingly and asked for our orders, thankfully deciding not to pry.
I ordered a coffee and Louis ordered another tea, and I felt the tension in my body release itself as she walked away.
"Business meeting?"
Louis looked at me with his eyes rose as he questioned me, an amused look in his eyes.
"That was a rather stupid answer, wasn't it?"
"It was absolutely horrid, Harry."
We both laughed then, and the sound of our laughter together felt sickeningly sweet. It was a melody I'd never grown quiet of, a harmony I could never replace with anything else. And in that sweet serenity I felt the anger melt away from me, the confusion dissipate.
As we both caught our breath I looked at him kindly this time.
"It's okay, Lou."
He smiled almost sheepishly and looked back down at his hands.
"It's not," he spoke quietly, "but thank you for accepting it."
I took a deep breath before speaking once more.
"I'm sorry, by the way Lou, for not reaching out to you after your mother, and than again, after your sister."
I saw a slight glimmer of pain pass beneath his eyes, but he contained himself.
"I get it. We weren't exactly speaking, right?"
I nodded, and kept my eyes on his, looking for another sign of emotion.
"I think I would've liked to hear from you though - if the circumstances were different, of course."
I hit my lip with curiosity, wondering what his words had meant, before he spoke once more.
"God, we do have quite a bit of catching up to do, yeah?"
He chuckled softly, and I saw him play with the ring on his finger, almost willing me to prod.
"Yeah, I guess we do," my words were distracted. "Congratulations by the way?"
Louis looked up at me, confused. "Thank you," he said bashfully, "but on what, exactly?"
His question took me off guard, and I willed him to follow my line of sight, to the band on his right ring finger. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to say the words.
He did as I expected him to, and I watched his face as he figured out what I had meant.
"Oh," he spoke almost embarrassed, "uh, thank you."
I purse my lips and tried to force my next sentence not to leave them, but I failed miserably.
"Is that bullshit too?"
Louis's face turned Scarlett and I immediately regretted my sudden burst of confidence.
Damn me and my inability to keep my mouth shut.
I watched him as he but his lip, seemingly considering what to say next. He looked up at me with those icy blue eyes, and I felt myself melt beneath them.
Damn him and his ability to affect me so accurately.
"Let's get out of here, yeah?"
His question caught me off guard, but almost on command I felt myself pulling out my wallet and leaving some cash on the table.
Within a few moments, we were out the door.
Though I didn't know where we were going, I didn't feel the need to ask.