Drowning || Larry Stylinson

chapter fourteen

confliction

/kuhn-flik-shuhn/

noun

the act or state of conflicting or clashing.

"his conscience was in conflict with heart"

synonyms: dissonance, discord, clash, disagreement

When Louis got home from his therapy session, he didn't feel any better. In fact, he was more confused and nervous about what he had to do. If Louis could, he would avoid this conversation with Harry for the rest of his life. He would probably avoid Harry for the rest of his life if he could. Louis didn't want to have these confusing thoughts anymore, let alone deal with them head on. He had to be strong and had to be determined if he was ever going to get better. 

Louis entered his apartment and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't see Harry there. He gently shut the door behind him, keeping mind to not lock it. He set his things down and looked around, his eyes settling on a note left on the kitchen counter. Homing in on it, Louis picked the note up and read the cursive lettering. 

'Lou,

I ran to the market down the road. Just needed to grab a few things. I made some lemonade, it is in the fridge. 

Yours, 

Harry'

Louis blushed at the note, unable to explain his sudden nervousness as he folded the paper up and slipped it into his back pocket. He cleared his throat then made his way over to the fridge, opening it up to see the giant pitcher of lemonade sitting on the top shelf. Louis didn't own a pitcher for lemonade, let alone had the ingredients to make any beverages. He was a habitual water drinker, only really straying for non-sugary sodas and beers. Not wanting the drink to go to waste, though, Louis took out the pitcher and poured himself a glass, humming when he noticed Harry had even chopped up some lemon slices and had a package of mint leaves. 

"Comes out of the closet and suddenly becomes a housewife," Louis murmured as he put a slice of lemon into the rim of his glass. He swirled the ice cubes around the glass, letting them 'tink tink' for a moment before he brought the glass to his lips. He took a small sip of the lemonade, then closed his eyes and gave hum. It was sweet and bitter in the best ways, and sent a chill down Louis's spine that seemed to cool his heated cheeks. "Damn, that's pretty good." 

Suddenly, the doorknob at the front door twisted, a very bundled up Harry appearing from behind the door frame. The curly-haired man quickly shut the door behind him, then groaned loudly as he set down multiple bags of groceries on the ground. Louis quirked an eyebrow at his bandmate, setting down the glass of lemonade. 

"Oh, I thought we were from England and couldn't get too cold," Louis said snidely as he approached Harry, who was wearing two scarves and a giant puffer jacket. All three things of which were Louis's, and he was quite shocked Harry could actually zip them. It wasn't a secret that Harry was not only taller than Louis, but much broader. Louis snatched up a few bags of groceries, peeking inside of them. "I know you're rich, mate, but you didn't have to stock up my kitchen. I don't have any friends coming by, unless you're suddenly throwing a party, aye?" 

Harry groaned again as he shook off the jacket and the scarves, letting them fall to the ground. Louis made a face at him, but let it slide as he brought a few bags to the kitchen. He set them onto the countertops, but watched Harry carefully as the man threw the garments onto the ground. Harry's cheeks were a bright red and Louis noticed then that curls were plastered onto his forehead, like he had gelled them on there.