The Balloon Man (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 12

Louis let out a small breath as he glanced at the clock on his bedside table. He tried to focus on what he was reading, desperately wanting to delve into a world other than his own.

It was late. Too late for his liking and every five minutes the bedroom door didn't open he could feel his mind doing what it does best.

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up and shaking his head, wanting the memories to go away. He released a slow breath as he opened his eyes again, trying to force himself to focus on his book.

But he couldn't even get a sentence in before he looked at the door again, feeling like if he didn't keep his eyes on it it would never open.

Every time Louis can't go to the musical, Harry goes out after the show with his castmates. As much as Louis wanted to go, work always got in the way. But tonight when he got done his boyfriend hadn't come home, and that was different.

Louis couldn't think about it though, couldn't let his mind wander and come up with the worst. He had a terrible habit of doing that, but he found that the worst seems to happen to him more often than not.

Louis sat up a bit more in bed, and adjusted his book in his hand, glancing at the door and feeling his breath hitch when he heard the door click open.

He felt like he couldn't move when Harry walked in, knowing his heart was beating far too fast when their eyes met.

"Hey babe," Harry smiled at him as he closed the door behind him, "already on a new book?" he asked a bit amused, pulling his shirt off and reaching for his pants button.

"Yeah," Louis cleared his throat slightly as he sat up fully, "I uh, I was waiting for you and finished the other one."

"Sorry, we were all out a bit longer cause all the understudies are performing tomorrow, so we have the day off," Harry offered him an apologetic smile and climbed in bed with him, "I texted you."

"You texted me you were going out, not how late it'd be," Louis shook his head as he pulled his glasses off and tossed them onto the bedside table.

Harry watched him for a moment, "I mean, do I have to text you where I am, what time I'm leaving here or leaving there?"

Louis bit his lip, the last thing he ever wanted was to be controlling, to tell him what to do. And from his boyfriend's tone, he felt like he was headed in that direction. But he wasn't okay, he didn't want another night like tonight.

"Can you at least text me when you're on your way home?" he asked quietly, unable to meet his eyes but feeling the younger man's on him.

"So if and where I'm going out, and when I'm coming home, got it," Harry nodded at him.

But Louis could hear the slight edge to his voice as he turned over to shut his light off. The curly haired man keeping his back to him as he shuffled the comforter closer to him.

"Harry..." Louis said, feeling how tense the air was around them and placing a careful hand on his bicep, "just bear with me, please."

Harry rolled over to face him, letting out a small breath as he shook his head, "you don't trust me."

Louis felt his mouth open but nothing came out as Harry raised his eyebrows at him. And when he said nothing the green eyed man was quick to try to turn back around.

"H," Louis stopped him, pulling him back so he could look at him, "you know I love you," he said quietly.

"That doesn't mean you trust me," Harry said just loud enough for him to hear.

Again Louis was at a loss of what to say. He wanted to tell his boyfriend of course he trusted him, that there was no doubt, but his mind wasn't so kind to him.