Good Morals [Larry Stylinson]

Ch. Twenty-Nine | Finale

[E: ✔️]

Louis was waiting five minutes after everyone was in the classroom, panic starting to set in that he really wasn't going to see the charming lad. It made sense.

Friday he wasn't there either.

Wednesday was truly the last time he was going to see the boy, probably for the rest of his life, and although he thought that might be relieving, it was far from it.

Friday was ending, and Louis knew the year twelve kids would be antsy. What he didn't know, or by any means expect at that point, was a sudden visit from the boy with the mop of curls, walking in after the final bell rang. "Here for my final. Since you liked it oh, so much, I'd figure I'd share the rest. You have time, don't you? Or should I, as you say," Harry walked towards the desk, bowing a bit, "get out?"

"Go on, then," Mr. Tomlinson leaned back and watched as Harry smiled sarcastically and walked to the center of the room. "As you wish," Harry bowed again. "Unfortunately, I so conveniently left my notebook in my locker, don't mind my partial improvisation, sir," he said smarmily. "Don't mind at all," Mr. Tomlinson said calmly despite his heart beating fast enough to cause heart palpitations.

"River was a quiet boy, always liked to be alone, at peace with Fay," Harry closed his eyes, smiling sweety. He sighed, walking around the room, leaning against the wall opposite his teacher. "Fay, his greatest friend, his only friend. Her presence in itself was enough to make him happy," the green-eyed boy looked up dreamily. "He always thought to himself, "how did I get so lucky" when he looked at her. Her voice was kind. Teasing, almost," Harry turned towards the man, talking with his hands slowly. "He liked her eyes. The way they looked when in the sunlight. Her smile, her everything," he walked over to the desk, leaning against it, overdramatically smiling. "Her care, how whenever River got upset she would hold him, comfort him, running her delicate hands through his hair which was best described as a mop," he leaned closer to the other man, frowning. He pushed away from the desk and ran his hands through his hair. "She teased him about it, he didn't mind," Harry shrugged carelessly. "His favourite moments with her would always be sitting outside, anywhere, really, and just talking," he slid against the wall, now sitting against it, head leaned back. "It could be seven in the morning or ten at night, he would do anything for her. He could say the same for her for the most part," Harry's gaze went cold on Mr. Tomlinson, "The only thing he knew she couldn't do," he stood, spinning around, and reaching the desk once more, sitting on it, meeting his teacher's nervous eyes, "is return the love he felt for him. He wasn't aware of the fact he liked him. He loved him, so madly, so truly, so deeply. It was not infatuation, not a crush," Harry's jaw clenched.

""Fay," he would say. "Yes, Ri," he would answer. "I like spending time with you. Greatest friend I've had in a long time," he would confess," Harry hopped off the desk and talked with his hands again, "although it was no news to Fay. Fay felt just the same. Again, Fay was River's best friend, the only person he's ever cared for like that. "I know, Ri. You say this all the time. And I always tell you you're an incredible person as well," Harry walked around the room in circles, seeming to think. "Then River would smile at Fay, and Fay would return it with a grin of his own."

"Harry, you've changed Fay's pronouns to "he". Make up your mind, it's not professional to change things that important," Mr. Tomlinson remarked. In the back of his head he knew what Harry was doing. "Oh, did I? My bad," he fake-pouted marching up to Mr. Tomlinson, faces inches apart. Harry's hard stare made the other man nervous, "As for the professional part, thank God I'm not you. You also say changing things that important isn't good, but," Harry tilted his head to the side, "You can't make up your own important decisions. Now, I'll continue," he grinned, stepping back a few.

"This would go on for days," he brought his hands up, "Spending time. Weeks, months, years had gone by before River finally found the pride to confess to Fay. Confess how he really feels."

Silence as the taller boy thinks, "Oh, and he does, but, tragedy strikes."

Silence again before Harry wails dramatically, the back of his hand pressing against his forehead. ""Oh, I love you," River plead. All Fay did was turn and leave," Harry dropped his hand and glared. He snarled, ""Oh, but Fay, don't leave, I won't do anything more!" River shouted, running after the man. A lost boy, filled to the brim with shame and regret. Nothing ever meant anything, he would tell himself. He would darkly reminisce to the times where they weren't close, before he fell in love," Harry spat, anger building up, "When all Fay would do was a simple nod and a wave and a smile," Harry bent over, hands reaching up to (pretend) grasp his heart, "But he wouldn't come back, he wouldn't do anything but ignore and distance himself. He wouldn't even talk to River unless it was dire or necessary. What did River do? Why don't we ask the crowd," the lad stood up, pointing theatrically at his teacher. "Well," he raised his eyebrows.

"Poorly done, you get half credit, Harry," Louis swallowed the thick lump in his throat, shaking his head. "It's time for you to leave. That's what Fay would say," Louis walked over and grabbed Harry's arm, dragging him out of the room, "And never come back," Louis's voice wavered, tears brimming his eyes lightly as he shut the classroom door gently.

Harry didn't bother trying. And that was the end. The string between them ran down and was cut. He never had a chance, anyway. He just hoped he could move on, is all.

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three more to go, what do you think will happen to the two of them?

;)

x

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