My Gay Roommate (L.S)

Thirty Nine

"Lou," I whisper into the night, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts swirling around and around in my brain. "Lou, you awake?"

It's the middle of the night and my brain continues to go back and forth like ping pong. She, he, they, her, him, them. Around and around it goes. But what if I don't act woman enough to be called she? What if being they will confuse people and get them annoyed at me? Have I truly felt comfortable with being called a man?

There's a lump in my throat from the confusion that irritates my mind. I want to crawl out from my own skin. Go for a run, that'll help clear your mind, will push the feeling of crawling ants along your body to piss off. 

I go to peel the duvet from me so I can cave into the urge to burn off every ounce of energy from within me, but I don't get no where when Louis turns around in his sleep and buries his nose into my chest, letting out a high pitched sigh, lips slapping slightly. His arms squeeze around me. 

I bite my lip, wanting to pull him off me, whilst also wanting to keep him close. But that urge to run is right there, in the front of my mind and it's aggitating me that I can't not give into it. It's like I'll be doomed if I don't listen to the urge now, maybe I'll get cursed if I don't. 

I lightly push Louis' arms from me and begin sliding off the bed as quietly as I can. 

"Where're you going?" Louis mumbles into the pillow, voice gravally and deeper with sleep. He begins rubbing his eye, yawning loudly. "Harry?" He lifts his head off the pillow.

I shy away from him, wrapping an arm protectively around myself. "Um... for a run," I mutter. 

Louis' brows crease and he reaches for his phone before dropping it back onto the table. "It's two in the morning. Why are you going now? What's wrong?" He sits up, searching my face in the dark room, the only light coming from his screen saver as well as the lamp light outside, peeping in through the gap of the curtain. 

I scratch my arm slowly, nails digging into the skin harshly. "'M sorry," I whisper. 

He shakes his head, opens his arms out. "C'mere, baby, what's the matter?" 

I plod toward him, flopping into his side. "I'm so confused," I say quietly. 

"About what, boo?" he questions, stroking my hair from my face and running a hand down my arm where I now have a few dents from my nails embedded into my skin. 

I chew my cheek, looking over toward the window. "About myself. I haven't even decided my bloody sexuality properly yet! And now I'm wondering about pronouns? Lou... am I freak for thinking these things?"

Louis pulls me off him to scan my face. "Harry, what? No! You are no way a freak for wondering who you really are inside. It shouldn't matter to the outside world who you want to define as, as long as it makes you happy and comfortable. Princess, you need to slow down and stop those negative thoughts. You're only going to harm yourself mentally if you continue to see yourself in such a dark light." He pecks my nose. 

I snuggle further into him. "Lou. I think I'm queer," I decide. I've done enough research to figure out what definition falls into where, and queer speaks to me more than anything else. 

"You don't have to decide on that yet, love, if you're not ready to find the label. Going unlabeled is also valid. But whatever you choose, I'll stick by you, I won't ever leave you for choosing something different. You can come out as gay, bi, trans, asexual, whatever, and I wouldn't stop supporting and caring for you like I have already."

I feel a blush coat my cheeks. I don't know what I did to deserve such an amazing person such as himself. I snake my hands up under his pyjama top, stroking the dimples in his back. "I'm sorry that I yelled at you and made you feel degraded and small, although you are tiny, and invalid when we first met, it was never my intentions."