scarred wings (l.s.)

eight

“That’s horrible”, Zayn shouts through the whole cafeteria and shakes his head, “Louis, have you gone crazy?”

I roll my eyes and have the urge to slam my plate onto his head.

“Zayn”, I say, “Shut up, Amelia was already annoying enough yesterday.”

I grab my sandwich instead of my plate, take a bite before chewing slowly, rolling my eyes at Zayn again to which he just sticks out his tongue.

“She is fucking right. I think it’s crazy, just inviting a stranger to your flat and he has been there for a week. He’ll mess things up, I’m telling you.”

Lewis takes a sip from his water and shakes his head. “That’s not what I think the problem is. How the fuck will you get him to leave again? What if he thinks he can just stay now?”

I know that that won’t be a problem. Harry knows this isn’t forever. He would’ve left already if I didn’t tell him to stay until he felt better.

I roll my eyes and shrug. “I don’t know, okay?”, I mumble with full mouth, “Why are we only talking about me again? How’d you project go, Lewis?”

He just shrugs and laughs a little. “Have done better projects.” He leans back in his chair and grins.

“I liked it”, Zayn says, “Not that I know anything about that topic but it sounded professional.”

Lewis laughs again. “To my professor it didn’t, apparently.”

He takes a look at his watch. “We got about five minutes before we need to get back to our lectures.”

I put a last fork of food into my mouth before I get up and put my plate back into one of the little shelves.

“I’ll see you later then”, I say.

“See you”, Lewis says, “And tell us how it goes with the boy.”

“And tell us if you get murdered”, Zayn adds with a smirk.

I roll my eyes and nod before disappearing into the way too full again, trying to make my way to the next lecture with all the people standing in my way.

~~~

On the way home it starts raining again. I scoff, pulling my hood over my hair, hoping it won’t get ruined once again and run a little faster.

I wave at Casey through the windows of the bakery with a smile and pull my keys out of my pockets while still waiting at the red traffic light, impatiently switching from standing on one foot to the other as if that’d make the light change to green faster.

“Fucking weather”, I mutter under my breath while crossing the street and slip on the wet street, nearly causing me to fall.

I curse again and then I finally arrive at my door, not getting the key in at the first try and letting it fall down by the second try.

“Fucking bullshit.”

I make it by the third try and then I jump into the house, taking a few breaths and enjoying the warmth. It should be warmer by the middle of April but it isn’t so I am already in a bad mood when entering the flat.

“Hi”, I say when I see Harry sitting on the couch and smiling, peeling out of my wet sweater, happy that my shirt is still warm.

“Hey”, he babbles, dragging out the y.

I raise an eyebrow, not sure if he’s drunk or just unusually happy. I look at the table just to find two empty bottles of wine standing there.

It’s mine. My bottles I got for my birthday and waited to use for a special occasion, for when my friends come over or when there’s something to celebrate. My mood was already bad before so feel even worse now.

“What the fuck”, I blurt out, putting my hands into my hips, “Why the hell would you fucking do that?”

He raises both of his eyebrows and shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“They’re mine, Harry. This isn’t your fucking flat. I let you stay here and that’s what you do to thank me? You really are the fucking stereotype, aren’t you? Drinking, probably consuming drugs.”

He frowns biting his lip on the inside and shaking his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

He suddenly looks so hurt and small again and I want to sit down next to him and hug him really, really tight for as long as possible.

“I didn’t mean it, sorry, that was unnecessary”, I try to save the situation.

“No, Louis, you did mean it”, he says, voice blurry, “I know. I think so too. I’m a loser. I fucked up. You never should’ve helped me in the first place. I’m leaving.”

I want to say something, somehow, but I don’t know what.

I wait as he grabs the blanket he brought and walks into the hallway, taking his backpack from the wardrobe. He turns around one last time and waves awkwardly. “Thank you, Louis. I’m sorry.”

I don’t really say anything. I want to let him stay here, want to keep him, hug him and tug him in until he’s all good again.

I want to comfort him and offer him to stay here forever but I know that’s impossible. I know he would’ve left sometime, anyways and what he did wasn’t alright, it’s not like I forgot about that already.

I stand there for way too long after he leaves, staring at the door as if it’d suddenly open and Harry was in front of it, smiling and shouting “surprise”.

I finally leave the hallway after some time and drop into bed with no emotion in my chest. It feels so weird now, so empty and sad.

I feel like I messed up. It was the worst idea ever to ever invite him here but them again I don’t want to imagine how it would’ve turned out if I didn’t tell him to come inside that night, he was sick very badly.

I fall asleep soon, tired and exhausted from everything, thinking about curly hair and green eyes.

~~~

:(