Once Upon a Dream

Chapter 14

When Louis walks in the next morning, Harry is standing beside the bed with his duffel bag and belongings strewn about the linens. He's intensely focused on the clothes piled up on the bed, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Going so soon?" Louis offers playfully.

Harry looks up at him. He offers a polite smile with the corner of his mouth. "Hi."

There's an awkwardness that Louis was hoping wouldn't be there. He clears his throat just to add noise to the silence. "What time do you leave?" He finally asks.

"Right after my physical therapy, so about six?" Harry answers as he continues packing.

Nodding, Louis stuffs his hands in his pockets. Say something, he begs himself. Instead, he nervously studies the way Harry carefully folds his shirts. Something is going on inside Harry's mind. Something is boiling over that Louis can't quite pin down.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry follows Louis' eyeline down to the shirt in his hands.

"I'm sorry I'm not the person you were hoping I would be," he finally spits out, timid and muffled. He says it as if the words had been pushing against the inside of his lips, begging to be released. Once they're out, he looks up to meet Louis' stare.

"What?" Louis replies, confused.

"It's just that," Harry breathes in shakily, refusing to look at Louis, "you treat me differently. Talk to me differently. You don't say the amazing things you did before, and I notice that. I didn't understand, but I do now, Louis and it's okay. I understand, now."

Louis feels his stomach drop to the linoleum floor. "What are you talking about, Harry?"

Huffing a breath of frustration out of his nose, Harry continues with his eyes squeezed shut.

"You said that I was everything ." Opening his eyes, he digs into Louis'. He looks with purpose, his eyes glazing over with emotion. "That I was the only thing that mattered, somehow." He shrugs and catches his breath.

Louis' chest aches. Watching, his heart sinks. He's still trying to convince himself that Harry doesn't know the extent of how deeply Louis had fallen in love with him, still trying to believe that his words had fallen onto silent ears. Yet there Harry was, reciting those very words, right in front of him.

Harry nods, accepting Louis' lack of a response. He sturdies himself, broadening his shoulders to put on some sort of confidence before continuing.

"If there was a genie in this very room, offering you three wishes, you would only wish for me, right?" He pauses, lungs refilling with air. "And when you asked me, I wished for you to be real . Not just a figment of my imagination." He waits, pauses for a moment and sniffles.

"It's a shame that both of our wishes came true, isn't it?"

Louis stares back at him with his mouth hung open, head shaking. All the color in his face vanishes. His mind rushes back to that night, sending a wave of panic over his entire body. The boy that nearly shattered him that night is standing in front of him, reciting the words he thought nobody else could hear. "You don't understand, Harry."

"Then help me to ," Harry pleads. He steps forward, eyes wet and begging for reassurance or some sort of validation.

Louis swallows. He prepares to tell Harry everything. He has to, because Harry already fucking knows. So why is it so terrifying? He feels like a child that's been caught in a lie, like he's in trouble at school. It's all he can do to take a shaking breath as he gathers whatever air is left in the room. The anticipation is cut short when his beeper buzzes on his hip.