tuesday [l.s au]

4

The car ride was completely silent, just the small beat of the music coming from the radio.

"So, that was fun wasn't it?" Harry smirks. I blush and avoid eye contact with him. All I could think when I look at him was the kiss we shared. It felt so wrong...yet so right.

"Yeah." I trail off. His scent is still strong as ever, and it hurts my nostrils. Harry pulls into my driveway, revealing Lottie's car isn't here. I reach into my back pocket to grab my keys, before I realize my keys are inside.

"Shit." I mumbled. Harry looks over.

"Whats wrong, love?" He asks. Concern fills in his eyes. "My key, it's inside." I groan. 

"You're welcome to stay at mine, Lou." He replies imediantly. "I'm not doing anything tonight or tomorrow." He continues. I look over at him.

"You'd do that for me?" I ask, shocked.

"Of course! Your my- erm." He trails off. He bites his lip, embarrasement in his eyes.

"Boyfriend?" I chuckle. His eyes plead, as if he meant it, yet he didn't.

"S-sure. Unless you want to, we don't have to-." He keeps blabbering, so I lean in and peck him on the lips.

"Shut up before I change my mind." I smile. Then reality hits me. Not only do I have a boyfriend now, but I'm staying the night, without any clothes.

"I don't have clothes." I sigh. Harry shakes his head, "Sleep in my shirt." He gives me a cheeky smile. I blush at the thought in sleeping in his shirt, probably a size or two big.

"Okay." I shrug. He restarts his car, and makes his way to his flat.

***

Harry's house was huge! It was like a penthouse, but better. He had a beautiful balcony with vines growing out of the cement, which made it look artsy. It was a work of art.

He had a modern look to his house, and thats how I imagined it.

"It's beautiful, Haz." I said, speechless.

"Thank you, it cost a lot of dough." He replies, sighing. "Mum was not happy." He laughs, his eyes crinkling.

"I'll go get you some clothes." He continues. I nod and sit on his couch, admiring the scenery in front of me.

My eyes land on a brown journal laying on the coffee table, just like mine. The brown leather is the exact same journal, just with the letter H on the front.

I look around, making sure he isn't watching, and I grab ahold of the book.

I realize this is wrong, but I want to see what Harry says about his life. Am I in it? His family? A girl?

I open the leathered strap and look through the ripped pages.

 Hello dad, It's been a long time since I've spoken to you. I thought writing my feelings towards you would be better than visiting you in prison. I can't dare to face you in that living hell.

Anyways, I met a lad recently, his name was Louis. And he was with a girl, I'm assuming his sister. They looked identical. But he was beautiful. Like a work of art. His facial features were formed perfectly with such gratitude within it.

I ran into him a few days later, at a chinese resturaunt. We talked, then I realized he liked The Fray. So we're going to a concert tonight, and I'm nervous as hell. I admit, I do have feelings for him, But I'm afraid he'll run from me, because of my sexuality.

This is all jumbling my brain. I don't know why I'm even telling you, especially after what you did to mum. I guess I needed to tell someone now, since mum is in Washington for work. 

The writing stopped, this must be his recent entries. I looked back into the front pages. I loved how he called me a work of art, it made me feel special. Like he actually cared about me.

I cannot believe what you did to our family, dad. I can't even write this to you without wanting to throw this journal you gave me across the wall.

With your god damn mistakes, you broke our family apart, and I cannot hate you anymore.

Mum is so devastated, that you betrayed not only me, her. You broke her god damn heart, and if you were with me, I'd punch you in the gut, no hesitation.

Tons of scribbles were drawn at the bottom of the page. It seems like he used that part to take stress out. I smile at the thought of him not hurting a hair on someones body.

"What the hell are you doing with my journal?" He asks, dropping the clothes he gathered for me.

"H-Harry, I can explain." I reply. Harry walks towards me and snatches the book away.

"Are you gonna talk or what?" He snaps. I nod slowly and back away a few inches.

"I was waiting for you to come back, and I noticed you had a journal, and it looked just like mine. The exact same pattern, same color, everything! So I decided to see if you had anything about me." I start off, trying to not sound like an asshole. Harry's face turns pale.

"I promised myself I'd only read one entry, but I couldn't stop. What happened with your father?" I blurted out on accident. Harry grits his teeth,

"Thats the least favorite topic I would like to discuss right now." He replies. I nod, "Sorry, I understand."

I now realize how much of a bitchy move that was of me to read through his personal information like that.

I walk up to him and look up at him. He towers above me, watching me move towards him.

"I'm sorry." I caress his cheek, feeling his soft skin against my hand. Harry sighs.

"It's okay Lou, I'm sorry for blowing up on you." He replies, pulling me in a hug. His chin rests on the top of my head, as we sway back and forth.

"I'm gonna change into these." I grab the clothes off the ground and run into the bathroom. I take my shirt off and stare at my weak torso. These meds are really taking control of my body. I sigh and slip the shirt on. I slip the tight jeans off as well and pull the basketball shorts up. The shirt reaches my thigh.

I shut the light off and back to the living room, to see Harry in his pajamas with popcorn and milkshakes on the table. A selection of movies lays on the tv stand, along with a huge blanket on the couch.

"I thought we can cuddle and watch movies." He blushes and looks down. I smile.

"I would love that, Harry." I whisper. He gives me a beautiful cheeky smile once again, that smile always kills me.

Harry grabs ahold of the disc. "Titanic?" He asks. I nod fast.

"It's my favorite movie!" I reply jumping like a little girl.

"Too many things in common!" He says. I sit on the couch and take a drink out of my milkshake. I moan over how good a milkshake can be.

Harry rushes back to the couch and lays down, and pulls me close to him. Our bodies are pressed together in a tight cuddle, and it's the best cuddle I have ever recieved in years.

***

awww larry :-)

anyyyways dont be a ghost ;)))