The Exceptionals

Chapter 18: Old Ties

     Johannah stepped into the room with a tentative smile, an unsure one. Maybe it had something to do with the man standing in the hallway, but Louis wasn't sure. He couldn't think, not when his mother's eyes landed on him—on them, and her smile fell faster than light could travel.

It felt like a staring contest, whoever blinked first lost.

Louis couldn't blink.

Neither could she.

"Where is he? Is he in the room?" His father's voice called out from the hallway, deep and gruff. Impatient, but a smile loomed his tone.

Johannah didn't move, but she swallowed, features nothing but a mystery of her emotions. She slowly closed the door.

Louis heard his mother clear her throat. "No—I mean, yeah. H-he's just changing, he'll be out in a second to greet you. Come, let's drink tea." And her footsteps echoed into nothing, waves quietly retreating into the ocean.

Louis blinked, his gaze slowly shifting towards Harry.

It may have been a couple of seconds or minutes. Time seemed to stop, it wasn't clear. Nothing was certain. Both of their faces were laced with shock, wrapped in a cottony layer of fear that clung like mist on damp wood.

This is it, he thought. How can I ever look at my family the same way again?

His mind spiraled, racing towards the coward's solution: running. Running far, far away, where he'd never have to see the disappointment in her eyes, the disgust. The thought was gut-wrenching, but it wasn't new. It wasn't unfamiliar. And maybe it was weak—no, it was weak, especially when he'd promised Harry they'd face this together.

Just yesterday, Friday, and again today—while they walked to Louis' house with their shoulders brushing—they seemed lost in their own little world, caught in the kind of happiness that felt stolen from a fairy tale. Together, it was as though the universe outside didn't exist. For a moment, Louis had let himself believe that was true.

Harry, Harry, Harry—he'd been Louis' every thought, every breath. So much so that Louis had forgotten about the real world. Forgotten he had a family. Forgotten that loving Harry came with risks, risks he hadn't fully prepared to face.

And now his mother knew.

Shame burned hot in Louis' chest, clawing its way up his throat. How could he feel this way? He didn't regret Harry—not for a second. Not the love they shared, not the promises they'd made. But why—why did it have to happen like this?

Why did his mother have to walk into the room at that moment?

A soft voice slowly pierced his ears. Gentle. Panicked.

"Louis, baby, come on. We have to get up."

His ears prickled and rang as Harry moved under him, shifting in slow motion. Louis furrowed his eyebrows as he sat up, his sockless feet brushing the soft, kindling floor. His ears continued ringing as Harry kneeled in front of him on the floor, his naked chest touching his clad knees. He grabbed his hands and brought them to his lips as Harry kissed them, whispering words Louis' mind refused to whisper into his soul.

So very slowly did Louis focus. He willed himself to concentrate on Harry's voice, on his surroundings.

Then his eyes snapped forward towards the door, soft footsteps outside the closed entry. Harry shot up, hearing it too. Louis' heart felt like it beat too fast, too much. It was too much, too quick.

There was no knock this time, just someone flinging the door open. Not gently like his mother. Full-on.

His father walked in. His grey stubble a sad remembrance. His blue eyes a poor imitation of his own. His blond hair a mirror of Lottie's. There stood the man that had left his family—had left him. Why is he even back?