Empty skies

Chapter 11

He could talk to Liam and Zayn -- Louis knew that he could always talk to them about anything. They would listen, and Zayn would give Louis some good advice while Liam would hold him, stroking Louis' back reassuringly.

Yet, there was only one person who would understand all of it, who would know exactly why Louis couldn't handle this. There was only one person who knew both him and Harry well enough to tell Louis what he was supposed to do.

It was late, almost midnight, and Louis had just returned from Los Angeles. They had flown over the day after New Year, which had left Louis with no opportunity to see Harry again and talk to him.

Also, the fact that Harry had left so abruptly had said a lot too. Louis had taken that as Harry not wanting to talk about--- it. That. Them .

Louis wouldn't have known what to say, anyway. They had texted back and forth for a bit, with Louis making the first step. Just meaningless words, some polite exchanges of Have fun at home and Thanks again for the invitation , as well as Have a good time in L.A . No mentions of the kiss, no mentions of sleeping cuddled up on the sofa.

Throughout the week they had spent in Los Angeles, Louis hadn't been able to think of anything else but Harry's body next to his, arms tight around Louis' waist, breathing steadily and warm against Louis' neck.

Louis had spent almost an hour lying awake on the sofa, just staring into the pale winter sun while Harry had still been asleep next to him. When Louis had turned in Harry's arms, carefully so as not to wake him, he had found Harry's expression peaceful, his lashes fanning against his cheekbones, lips slightly parted. Louis had run a finger over them, thinking of how they had felt on his own.

It had come as a bit of a shock when Harry had moved, and Louis had pulled his hand away, afraid of being caught. Harry hadn't woken up, though. Instead, he had nuzzled closer, one hand slipping beneath Louis' shirt, a knee slotting between Louis' thighs.

"Lou," he had murmured quietly, fingers brushing Louis' ribs.

That had driven Louis away. He had slowly peeled himself from Harry's side, slipping out from beneath the cover. His heart had beat wildly in his throat, pounding loudly in Louis' ears and completely out of control.

Harry had known exactly, even in his sleep, who it was he held in his arms. The realisation had been like an ice-cold shower, making everything inside Louis freeze.

What was he supposed to think, to expect -- to do ?

"Louis?"

He turned, seeing Barbara approach him. He put on a smile, greeting her with a friendly wave.

"Niall said you guys were in L.A.?" she pointed out, unlocking the door.

"Um, yeah. We only came back today," Louis answered. "Is he home?"

Barbara nodded, smiling. "'Course. Come in."

Louis followed her inside, waiting in the cramped, small corridor. A moment later, Niall came from one of the rooms, looking confused.

"Louis," he said, gesturing for him to come over. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Ni," he said, feeling tired all of a sudden. "Do you have a moment?"

Niall glanced behind him. "Babs, we'll be in the kitchen," he said before he closed the door and went ahead to lead Louis into another room.

The kitchen was small, only a tiny window above the sink, but it looked exactly how Louis would have imagined Niall's kitchen. There was a shelf with a collection of bottles, pictures on the fridge that showed Barbara and Niall in various places, always smiling brightly into the camera.