Sugar and Spice

Chapter 12

TW: foul language, homophobia

HARRY'S POV
Louis held the door open for me as we entered the flashy club. I grinned at the gesture and looked down at my feet to hide the blush creeping up on my cheeks. As I stepped in, the once muffled music became clear and loud, and I could feel the vibrations flowing through my body.

Just an hour earlier, Louis and I were driving around aimlessly. We talked and blasted Stevie Nicks through the speakers of his vintage, Aston Martin DB5. During a heated conversation about weather tea is better with or without sugar, Louis blurted, "Let's go to a club, I wanna get drunk tonight!"

I didn't like the idea of both of us getting drunk with no one to take us home, but just one look at his icy-blue eyes had me back at my flat getting dressed for a night out. I wore a pink blouse with white-polka dots and some black skinnies. I applied lip-gloss again because Louis liked it, and I loved the way it added a nice glimmer to my plump lips.

Now, in the club, drunk parties were laughing and signing along to the poppy music. Louis grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the bar. I looked down at our intertwined hands and felt my stomach flutter at the sight. I knew he was only doing it in a friendly way, but a part of me thought about what Liam had told me.

Louis acted different around me, nicer, one would say. And I knew he would never hold hands with any of his other mates. Not even to drag them up to a bar.

"I'll have a Long Island Iced Tea, and the curly one will have a Lemon Martini." Louis rattled off at the bartender who stood behind the wooden structure.

I beamed. Louis remembered the drink had had ordered last week when all of us had gone to that bar.

When he handed me the freshly made concoction, our fingers brushed, and I couldn't deny the electric rush that traveled up my forearm. "Thank you," I told him. He smiled in response. 

We looked at each other a couple seconds too long to be considered friendly, so I quickly tore my eyes away from his beauty and he coughed awkwardly.

LOUIS' POV
Shit.

I didn't mean to look at Harry for so long, but not even I could deny he looked amazing tonight.

So maybe I find Harry attractive in a slightly non-platonic way, but it would pass. And it didn't help that he was wearing that damn lip-gloss again. His lips glimmered every time he laughed and the constant blush on his cheeks matched the pink blouse he was wearing.

I thought back to when I had pulled Harry over to the bar, I couldn't help but notice how well our hands fit together. Harry was saying something, but I didn't register any of it because the shine on his lips was too distracting. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him right then and there, so that these feelings could go away, but I couldn't do that.

​"-don't you think, Lou?" Harry asks.

​Fuck.

​"Uh, yeah, yeah. Definitely." I spoke.

​He smiled, "You weren't listening you bugger!" Harry said.

​"I- no, I listened."

​"Really?"

​"Yep."

​"Ok, then what did I say?" Harry asks in a mischievous manner.

​"Dammit , Harold. You got me." I surrendered, putting my hands in the air.

​Harry laughed and my smile grew, because, yeah, I loved to make Harry smile.

​The drink I had was catching up to me, and I suddenly really need to have a wee. "Hey, H, I'm gonna go to the toilets right quick, be right back, okay?" I asked, a little worried about leaving him alone with all of the creeps that lurked around the bar.

​"Okay." He paused, before saying, "I'll be fine Lou, don't worry."

​"Right." I said, reassured. And kind of confused as to how he knew I was thinking that.

HARRY'S POV
I scanned the room after Louis left and kept a close eye on my drink. High-top tables were filled with groups laughing and sipping liquor of all kinds. I felt someone bump into me, and I turned around to apologize, even though it wasn't my fault.

​I saw a large man with a scraggly beard and tattoos that covered almost his whole body. I smiled politely and said, "Sorry about that sir!" I laughed it off, knowing damn well that it was a fake one because this guy was (very) intimidating.

​I expected him to smile and have me move so he could get by, but instead he spoke the words that had been thrown at me for years. The words I had gotten used to, brushed off. But this time, it was worse.

​The guy seethed and angrily spit out, "Get out of my way you fucking fag."

​I moved and he shouldered pass me, making sure to hit my side extra hard. I grabbed it to provide temporary relief, and once it felt better, I turned back to my drink. I swirled the ice-cubes around and watched as they melted. I was ashamed and, quite frankly, embarrassed. A lot of people probably heard what had happened and were thinking the same things that he had said.

Suddenly, I hear a rush of shouts and scared footsteps. I turn around to see what could have caused such a commotion, only to see Louis with bloody knuckles holding up the guy who had thrown the slur at me just moments before.

I watched in terror, and partly in awe as Louis continued to punch the guy three more times before he must have decided it was enough.

The feeling of the love I had for Louis in that moment was so overwhelming, but I don't think anything could have prepared me for what he said next, "Your pathetic. Do me a favor and stay away from my Haz."

I froze.

"My Haz."