next to you ❀ l.s.

seventeen - puzzle pieces

"Tell me again," Liam demanded, his forehead scrunched with focus. "From the beginning."

Louis sighed, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "I've told you three times already!"

"Just one more time," the other boy promised. Louis didn't believe him.

It was early on Sunday afternoon, not even twenty four hours after Louis and Harry's makeshift second date. Louis had barely slept that night, his mind wound up with confusion and concern and a million other emotions that he couldn't manage to untangle, no matter how hard he tried.

Harry had texted early that morning with another apology, but when Louis asked him about the specifics, Harry had clammed up again. When they spoke briefly on the phone before lunch and Louis had dropped a few questioning clues, Harry had acted like he didn't even remember.

Was it possible that he really didn't remember?

"So. I sort of raised my voice at him -- but not in a serious way, like, at all. I thought it was so completely clear that I was joking, but he thought I was serious, and then it was like . . . it was like he didn't even know who I was anymore," Louis explained for the fourth and final time, letting his messy train of thought spill freely into the air between them. "I honestly don't even know how to describe it, Li. One minute everything was fine, and we were laughing and burning toast and then . . . it wasn't fine anymore."

"And he just went to bed? He didn't say anything else?" Liam pressed, like he was trying to help Louis uncover some memory that he had suppressed over the past day.

"No, Liam, he didn't say anything else," Louis replied, his tone clipped with irritation. He sighed after the words left his mouth, tension leaving his drawn-up shoulders. "Should I have gone after him? Tried harder to figure out what was wrong?"

Liam's lips twitched thoughtfully, but he shook his head. "It probably wouldn't have mattered."

"I was just so caught off guard. I've never seen Harry act like that or look like that -- like he wasn't all there, you know, mentally," Louis thought out loud, his mind flashing back to the empty look in Harry's gorgeous green eyes. "But maybe I still should've tried, at the very least."

"Sounds like he wasn't very responsive, so I don't think it would've mattered," Liam reasoned. "Don't beat up on yourself about it."

Louis leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the table as he studied his friend. "You're taking this very well. Too well, especially for you," he accused. "Has this happened before?"

"No, it hasn't . . . well, not exactly," Liam admitted. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, then took a long sip of his drink; an obvious sign that he was hiding something.

"Talk," Louis demanded, eyebrows raised with interest.

"I don't know, mate. Harry's always been distant like that," the other boy confessed. "Like he's there one minute and gone the next."

"And you didn't think to talk to me about this before?"

"The last time I tried to talk to you about Harry's . . . um, issues . . . you damn near bit my head off!" Liam exclaimed defensively. "You're not particularly open to discussing that topic. It's sensitive."

As much as Louis wanted to argue back, it was true. He huffed childishly, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping his gaze to the table. He hated that Liam was always right.

The word "distant" echoed over and over in his mind on a loop. Maybe he really did have some sort of suppressed memory underneath the mess crowding his cluttered mind. He dug mentally, his brow furrowed in concentration as he did.