From Nothing (BoyxBoy)

04. You Wanted To Talk?

Louis' P.O.V.

I watched him barrel out of the car and run in a desperate effort to get away from me, and I didn't even bother to deny how much it hurt. I saw him look back once as he was running; my eyes caught his and for that one second I forgot about the rest of the world. 'What the hell is going on?' I sighed, pressing my face into my hands. I'd really screwed myself over on this one. Groaning slightly as we pulled away and started driving again, I couldn't stop thinking about Harry. Why had I done so many horrible things to him? We could have actually been friends if not for my... well, if not for my stupidity. That was the only word that could possibly describe it. Reality was finally making sense, I'd realised what a prick I'd been to him. I'd made his life at school hell, all because of his sexual orientation. That's it. Just because he likes other guys. I'd punched him, kicked him and God knows what else I did to him; all because of something that he had no control over.

'And maybe something that isn't even wrong...'

Is it wrong for a man to love another man? I'd been questioning the ideology that I'd been brought up to believe in since the day I was born. My dad was always saying how disgusting it is to be gay, but why? He never could give me a reason, other than "the Bible forbids it!". But why though, why? Why does the Bible forbid it? No-one could ever give me an answer for that. Soft, even breathing from the passenger seat told me that my mum was asleep; any conversation would stay between me and my dad. So I decided to ask again - big mistake. I was tired as all hell, I wasn't thinking!

"Dad?" I said quietly, not looking up from my lap.

I could almost hear him roll his eyes as he let out an exasperated sigh. "Look Louis, I'm really not in the mood for any of your stupid questions at the moment. So would you please just shut up for once?"

Ouch, that hurt. Undoubtedly, he was still annoyed about before. No, he was more like pissed off. About me taking Harry's side over his. But come on, the boy was terrified. 'And lonely... and hurt... and miserable...'

"But it's a serious question..." I managed to mumble out, sounding the tiniest bit pathetic. Just the smallest little bit. My voice, even to me, sounded like a small child's - meek and fragile.

"What, then?" he spat, still clearly furious.

"Why is it wrong for a man to love another man?" I nearly choked on the words. For some reason, they just didn't want to come out of my mouth.

The car slowed down and came to a halt. 'What the hell is going on?! What! WHAT!' My dad turned in his seat to face me, pure hate and disgust shone in his eyes. His lips quivered with rage and his cheeks turned a dark shade of red.

"What. Did. You. Say?!" he demanded, shooting me a look that, if looks could kill, would turn me into a pile of ashes.

I swallowed hard, trying not to let all my anger and fear come spilling out into the air. I didn't want to wreck anything between us - if indeed there was anything to wreck. I've never actually had a good relationship with my dad. He was always pushing and shoving me into every direction that suited him, not ever caring about how I felt about it. I never really wanted to play soccer. But no, I had to play soccer. When I was younger I'd also wanted to learn to play the piano, but I couldn't do that either. It was too much a "waste of time and money!". My dad basically controlled my life, I didn't get any say in the matter. Sure, his actions had inadvertently made me very popular - but what's the point in popularity when the opportunity cost is your freedom, your choice?

I locked eyes with him and stared straight back, not letting myself get intimidated. "I said: why is it wrong for a man to love another man?" I repeated. Just to spite him, I added "And don't give me that 'Bible' crap, I want a real reason!"