Do You Realize? |l.s.|

XXXIX

It's been three months. The trial went smoothly, although dad denied all charges. He's smart, I'll give him that much, remaining calm and respectable. After enough time of being back with Zayn's family, I've really differed love from guilt. The guilt that I felt for wanting dad to suffer, that's what I had to deal with, but Harry and Zayn played a big part in helping me accept the fact that bad people need to be taught a lesson, and my dad is an exceptionally bad man.

I've actually recovered from it all relatively quickly. The first time was tougher, and I can recall all those times I'd flinch and panic when I first got sent to foster care. I was worse off because of the other boys in the foster home, but then Zayn's family took me in, and they were all so understanding. They got me into therapy over the summer, and by August I was perfectly well off dealing with it. This time around, as many bad memories as it brought up from my childhood, everyone was already prepared to help me out and having Harry by my side really helped.

The flinching is rare, and I haven't had any attacks in three weeks. With enough time to process it, I've realized Zayn and the rest of my family is right in saying that by the time dad is out of prison again, I'll be long gone. He's also right in saying that if dad gets knocked onto his feet when he's released, he'll become a better and happier person when he spends his money on more important things than drugs and alcohol. 

School's been decent, and the end of the year exams went better once I stopped working two jobs and had time to study without any of the shit and stress going through my mind during midterms. My grades got back up gradually, and I think I'm really starting to be okay. I think that even before dad got out of prison, I wasn't fully released from it all in knowing he would be released, and now I'm actually really good.

I also think me, and Harry have been getting a lot closer lately. He's held my hand on our walks home, even though he knows how much it makes me blush, and he always cuddles me and kisses my cheek. At first, I wasn't sure if it was platonic or not, but one time I completely lay down across him with my head on his chest to see him blushing.

I'm actually not with him right now, though, but with Zayn instead. He's texting someone on his phone with a grin on his face, probably Gigi, who he's been going out with for about two months. I actually do really like her, and the two together are a complete power couple.

"Wipe that fucking smile off your face," I say, throwing a pillow at him. "It's sickening."

"I wasn't smiling," Zayn scoffs.

"You always smile when you text Gigi," I roll my eyes.

"Right, Gigi," he nods. "Yeah, that's who I'm texting. You got me."

"I'm gonna ignore how strangely you said that and focus back on the movie."

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" Zayn asks.

"Fine," I sigh, pausing the movie again. "But this is the last time I watch a movie with you."

"You like Harry, don't you?" he smiles, and not even in a teasing way like I'd expect him to. It's encouraging, actually.

"Why would you think that?" I ask him nervously, avoiding eye contact as I look at the wall behind him.

"You've always been a shit liar," he chuckles. "I don't blame you. The man spoils you to death."

"I'm not spoiled," I defend.

"Tell that to your countless piggybacks and all those times he's walked through those doors with your favorite ice cream in his hands."

"He's just being nice," I roll my eyes, trying to hide my blush as I think about more of the things that he does for me that honestly mean so much. 

"Oh, can you take the trash out really quick?" he asks.

"It's barely full and I did it last time," I shake my head to decline.

"It's getting picked up tomorrow, kid. Besides, you still owe me for breaking my paint brush," he tells me, and I sigh dramatically in annoyance as I get up and shuffle in my pajamas and over to the garbage. Taking the bag from the bin, I take it out to the back, and I stop in my tracks, almost dropping the trash on the ground. A hand flies to my mouth before the other one once I've set the bag down, and I continue to stare at Harry.

I'm in shock as he smiles at me nervously, holding a prom sign with flower petals all over the ground and a bouquet of red roses in his free hand. I turn around to see Zayn videoing, an excited grin on his face as he watches through the screen.

"Louis," Harry starts. "I think you know by now that I really like you, and you're my most favorite person in the world. This might be completely out of nowhere and I'm hoping I'm not reading the situation wrong, but I'd absolutely adore it if you'd go to prom with me as my date?"

"Are you serious?" I ask, and his face slightly falls as confusion is shown in his eyes. "You're really asking me to prom? Me?"

"Well, yeah," he says, unsure.

"Zayn, is this who you were texting?" I ask, it finally clicking in my head.

"Bloody hell, Lou. Answer the question," Harry says impatiently, his nerves getting the best of him.

"Of course I will, you dork," I smile widely, rolling my eyes as he drops his arms to his sides, and I walk up and hug him so tightly. He hugs me back when I hear cheering and I release from the hug to see Niall and Liam cheering, walking out from behind the bushes. I just laugh, rolling my eyes again before hugging him tightly for the second time in two minutes.