Wild Hearts Run Free

Chapter 6

The sound of a vehicle engine in the distance cuts through the peace and tranquility of the forest, rousing Louis where he's laying on the couch still recovering from the night before. He gets up and goes to the window, sitting down at the desk, memories of the night before still whirling in his head.

He knows the moment is coming, it's inevitable now. Soon Niall's overland vehicle will come into view to steal him away from Harry, from the forest, and return him to civilization, to his old life, or whatever shattered pieces are left of that life on which to build his new future.

Louis had awoken at around midday, the sun already streaming beams of light into the bedroom, a fresh bottle of water on the bedside table, and Harry nowhere to be seen. Louis had gotten up, showered and dressed in his own clothes which Harry had left neatly folded on the dresser for him, his limbs aching and his mind still trying to process everything that had transpired.

When he'd wandered out into the living area, he'd found a plate of sandwiches and a bowl of fruit under a cover on the table. There was also a note from Harry informing him that he was out in the barn and that Niall would be attempting to reach them in the late afternoon. Louis' heart had sunk into his stomach for reasons he wasn't yet able to reconcile.

He'd picked at the food, wondering whether he should go out and find Harry to talk to him, but in the end, he'd decided to stay put and wait for Harry's return.

When Harry had walked in, Louis wasn't really sure what to expect, but he'd looked so, well, normal. It was odd, and not what Louis had been anticipating. Louis felt changed in ways he couldn't fathom, but Harry looked just the same, utterly unaffected, and it had raised Louis' hackles. They had been through something monumental together, at least Louis had thought so, but clearly Harry didn't feel the same way.

Harry had been pleasant enough, if a bit guarded, asking how Louis was feeling and whether he needed anything, but obviously not keen to allow the conversation to venture into deeper waters. It was as though the last twenty-four hours hadn't even happened and Louis had dreamt the entire thing. Louis had mumbled responses to Harry's questions and then slumped down onto the couch to wait for Niall to arrive as Harry excused himself to the barn to 'get back to work' as he'd put it.

Louis had felt invisible, discarded, like the last days had meant nothing to Harry. It's not that Louis had envisaged Harry launching into a heart-felt speech about how this was the beginning of a beautiful, romantic relationship, or any relationship at all for that matter, but he'd hoped for something more than a cursory and stilted conversation completely erasing what they'd been through together.

A glint of metal just beyond the tree line let's Louis know Niall is almost here. He gets to his feet, considering whether he should approach Harry and force a real conversation, even if only to grant Louis the closure he feels he needs, but he dismisses the idea as quickly as it had come. Harry has done enough for him, more than many would have, and it's selfish of Louis to expect more when he has nothing to offer in return.

He slides on the work boots he's been wearing around the place, figuring Harry won't miss them too much. He looks around the cabin one last time, this place where so much has happened and one that he presumes he'll never set foot in again. It's strange how places, and people too, can come into your life fleetingly and have such an impact, and then be gone forever. He'll have his memories, of course, and he wonders how he will feel about this strange experience when he thinks back on it in years to come, how he will remember Harry and all that he did for him. He'd like to think he'd have the fortitude to hold it at arm's length, to see it objectively and without emotion, and maybe someday he will, but that day feels like a long way off.

He takes one final deep breath, sucking Harry's scent into his lungs and holding it there. It's not as potent as it was when he first arrived, now diluted with his own scent. When he thinks of how little time it might take for all traces of himself to be wiped from Harry's life, he's hit with a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. He doesn't want Harry to forget him, but based on his behaviour today, he seems to already be well on his way. And maybe that's for the best. He just hopes a small piece of him remains somehow, somewhere, out in the forest, even if not in Harry's heart.