nobody shines the way you do » l.s.

part eight

Louis was paralyzed, watching Harry's retreating form walking away from him, blending in with all the other pedestrians in the busy streets of the city. He turned to the others, his face probably blotchy and red from tears from before, and felt like crumbling to the floor from the enormity of what had just happened. They all walked over to him, pulling him close, but not really saying anything. What could they possibly say?

Louis fucked up. End of.

"I've fucked up," Louis told them, his voice desperate and shaky. "Shit, what did I just do? Why did I say that?"

"It's fine," Zayn tried to reassure him, albeit his expression said differently. "Harry's not mad, Lou. He just needs some time to cool off."

"Yeah," Louis said nearly hysterical. "He needs some time to cool off because he's mad at me. I'm a fucking idiot. I shouldn't have stayed. None of this would have happened if I had just left."

"Louis, calm down," Niall said, looking at him with an alarmed expression. It had then dawned on Louis that Barbara was holding on to him tightly because he was visibly shaking and it wasn't from the cold. He was a fucking mess and it was all his fault. "You need to relax and think rationally. You can't have a nervous breakdown right now."

"Niall, he couldn't even look at me! He just left." Louis tore his arms away from Barbara and covered his face, feeling his composure break more and more by the second. Harry probably hated him now. He was standing up for Louis in front of Peter, trying to be a good friend, and now Louis made Harry hate him. Why did he think it would be a good idea to say anything? He should have just let them figure it out and kept quiet. He should have never interfered. He probably made things ten times worse.

When he looked back up at everyone, he noticed the three boys talking amongst themselves privately while Barbara and Sophia stood close by him. He had no idea what they were saying and he didn't really want to know. All Louis wanted to know was whether or not Harry was okay. He couldn't get Harry's face out of his mind. He could still see his hurt expression so vividly; it was driving him madder every second that passed.

The other boys eventually looked back at him, like he was some delicate piece of glass that they had to make sure wouldn't fall and break. Louis hated being looked at like that. It was so unlike him to just break in front of his friends. In front of anyone, really. He was better than this, but as of late, he was starting to doubt it considering all the times he was falling apart. He hadn't been this bad since the time before he left for Europe and even then he thought it couldn't get worse than this, but he was wrong. This was worse than anything.

"Let's go home, Lou," Zayn said to him, walking back over. "We can go home, get a good night of sleep, and tomorrow maybe you could talk to Harry."

"I want to see him right now," Louis said, his chin quivering as he felt another bout of tears threatening to come out. He couldn't wait an entire night before he knew they were okay. He wanted to go to Harry and cry to him and let him comfort him again because no one else could make him feel better. He wanted to erase everything he said to Peter so that Harry wouldn't be mad at him any longer. He wanted a do-over for this entire night.

Fuck.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Liam said softly. "We should let him cool off. That was intense what happened back there. You don't want to go over now because you're both in a bad state of mind; it could get worse if you do."

Louis had to admit that Liam had a point. He couldn't just jump into this all in one night after so much had already happened. Maybe a few hours away could do them good even if Louis' skin was itching to see Harry. It was just enough time to clear both their heads and talk about it the following day like mature adults who clearly said and did really stupid things after having too much to drink. Fucking hell.