If You Only Knew

Chapter 1

Twelve years later...

It's Monday morning, October 15th, and the school hallways are alive with the usual chaos of students shuffling to class. But none of it seems to matter to Harry as he sprints out of the theatre room, his curls bouncing with every step. Teachers shout after him to slow down, but he's too excited to care. His heart races—not just from running—but from the overwhelming thrill of what he's about to share.

At the end of the hallway, he spots a familiar figure with feathery brown hair, leaning casually against their lockers. Harry's face lights up. "Lou! Guess what!" he exclaims, skidding to a stop in front of his best friend.

Louis raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a grin. "Well, hello to you too, Curly," he teases, his laugh soft but warm.

"Sorry! Hi, LouLou," Harry says, giggling and breathless from his sprint.

Louis chuckles, shaking his head affectionately. "Alright, then, what's got you so worked up?" he asks, draping an arm over Harry's shoulder and steering them toward their next class.

Harry feels the touch like a spark, and suddenly, it's as if his stomach has transformed into a butterfly sanctuary. He wills himself to stay calm, but his cheeks betray him, turning a faint shade of pink. "I—I got the part in the play!" he blurts out, unable to keep the excitement contained any longer.

Louis freezes mid-step. Then, in one fluid motion, he turns and pulls Harry into a tight hug. "Curly! That's amazing! Congratulations! I'm so proud of you!" Louis says, his voice brimming with genuine pride.

Harry melts into the embrace, letting himself bask in Louis's warmth for just a moment. "Thanks, Lou. It means so much coming from you," he murmurs, his heart swelling. Then, with a cheeky grin, he adds, "But you know this means you have to come over and help me learn my lines, right?"

Louis laughs, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Of course, Love. But only if you play goalie for me while I practice my penalty shots."

"Deal!" Harry replies, his voice light and full of joy. His heart skips a beat at the casual way Louis calls him Love, but he quickly pushes the thought aside. Relax, Harry. He's your best friend. He's straight. He doesn't feel the same way, he tells himself, even as the butterflies in his stomach refuse to settle.

Louis slings his arm back around Harry's shoulder, guiding him toward class. "Come on, Curly. Let's get moving before your mum blames me for making you late again. I don't need another lecture about being a 'bad influence,'" he jokes.

Harry giggles, the sound bright and musical. "Lou, my mum adores you. She wouldn't kick your arse; she'd just give you that 'I'm disappointed in you' look."

Louis gasps, clutching his chest in mock horror. "Harold, that's worse! I can't survive the 'disappointed mum' look!" he declares, dramatically stumbling as if the very idea has wounded him.

Harry laughs so hard he has to clutch his side. "Sometimes I wonder why you're not in the drama department," he says, shaking his head. "You're such a goof."

Louis grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Goof or not, we're going to class. To class we go!" he announces, throwing his arm around Harry once more.

Harry doesn't think he's stopped smiling since Louis called him Love earlier. As they walk, shoulder to shoulder, he can't help but feel like his day just got a little brighter. Sure, Louis doesn't see him that way. But in moments like these, with laughter echoing between them and Louis's touch grounding him, Harry allows himself to believe that, maybe, this friendship is enough.

~~~

AfteAfter school, Harry and Louis meet at their lockers, the hallways still buzzing with the after-school energy of students rushing out, their voices echoing in the distance.