Perfect Storm

Chapter 2

Louis vividly remembers the first time he thought he loved Harry. It was in a platonic way - their relationship didn't transform into more until ten months later - but Louis recalls how safe he felt, how much he enjoyed Harry's company, how very right it felt to be sitting in the passenger's seat of Harry's beat up old sedan, like they'd been friends all along.

They'd just gone out to a crappy Italian restaurant just off campus, Louis claiming he needed a meatball sub with extra provolone cheese, and once they were back in the car, Louis mindlessly tapped his fingers against the armrest to the beat of the music, humming.

"So glad I don't have any studying to do tonight," he said out loud, more to himself than to Harry. "Feels fucking good ."

Harry laughed. "Wish I could say the same."

"What've you got to do?"

"I have an exam first thing in the morning for my business class."

"Wanna head back, then? So you can get some studying in?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. It's nice to drive around. And you're decent company."

Louis faked a gasp. " Decent ? I'm wounded, Styles."

"Your ego doesn't need to be much bigger."

"True." He changed the radio station, settling on a pop rock station. "I can help you study, if you want."

He laughed, stopping at a red light. "I've watched you study before. It's a process. Your attention span is nothing to brag about."

"Excuse you, who just got a 94 on their last exam, hm?"

Harry bit back another smile. "Alright, fine. We'll head back."

"Good. Take a left. That's the fastest way home."

"Okay." Harry smirked as he took a right, and they spent another 40 minutes in the car, laughing at terrible jokes, Louis shrieking mercilessly when Harry almost swerved into oncoming traffic, and it was mostly a non-eventful hang out, but that was when Louis decided that yes, he loved that boy. He never once doubted it, not for a single day, not even during their past year together.

Whenever Louis looks back on the past several months, he feels like he's watching a movie of someone else's life, not his own, not the one he built with his best friend. It's like he's yelling at the people on the screen to say something, do anything, but they both stayed silent, walking around on eggshells until one of them inevitably broke.

The first one was Harry, and Louis couldn't blame him.

He knew he was stubborn and impossible to deal with. He watched the way Harry tried to break their cycle and he resisted, in complete denial that they were slipping, that they weren't, in fact, unbreakable. And he tried for months to come up with the words to say, to tell Harry that he hated it, hated all of it, missed him even when he was in bed beside him, but the fear nearly ate him alive.

Louis loved Harry in a way that was fierce, palpable, demanding, and for every ounce that Louis put into it, Harry loved him just as much, just as hard. There was never a moment that Louis questioned how they felt about each other, always felt secure. It's why their destruction was slow and aching. It took time for Louis to get in his own head about it, to fight with himself instead of taking it out on Harry. But as the days ticked by, the chaos in Louis' head, combined with the resistance in Harry's demeanor is what got to Louis. He's not proud of the way he panicked and turned away, and all he can do is blame it on the suffocating panic that enveloped him.

What if Harry wanted out. What if everything had changed too much. What if, what if, what if.

Fear makes for crazy, irrational behavior. It's the reason Louis spent his nights holed up at the library instead of going home to talk with Harry, to figure it out one day at a time. It's the reason he took on extra hours at the restaurant even when he was already splitting 80 hours a week between school, his internship, and his job, just so he didn't have to think . It's the reason he pretended to be asleep when Harry got up before him. He didn't know what to say, anyway.