Nothing without you [L.S] AU

Chapter 8 :Secrets

The door had barely closed behind Harry before Louis felt the weight of his impulsive action crushing down on him. He paced the room for a few moments, his thoughts racing. The kiss had been a mistake—or so he'd tried to convince himself—but now it seemed like there was more to it than he'd initially thought.

As he heard Harry's footsteps fading down the hallway, Louis felt a surge of guilt. He needed to clear the air, to understand what was happening between them. Without a second thought, he hurried after Harry, catching up to him just outside the building.

"Harry, wait!" Louis called, his voice a mix of urgency and apprehension.

Harry stopped, turning slowly to face him. His expression was a mix of confusion and hurt, and it made Louis's stomach twist.

"What is it, Louis?" Harry asked quietly, his eyes avoiding Louis's.

Louis took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to get so weird. I just... I needed to talk to you. About what happened."

Harry's gaze flickered up, curiosity battling with his unease. "Okay. Talk."

Louis nodded, trying to find the right words. "I don't know what came over me earlier. I—" He hesitated, searching for clarity. "I've been feeling messed up lately. I don't even know what's going on with me. I just... I think I need to figure things out."

Harry's brow furrowed. "So you kissed me because you're confused?"

Louis swallowed hard. "It's not that simple. I've been pushing you around for a while, and I thought I knew why. But today, seeing you—seeing how scared you are—made me question everything. And then, when we were working together, I felt something different. Something I can't really explain."

Harry's expression softened slightly, though he still looked uncertain. "I've been scared, yeah. But I didn't expect this... confusion from you. I thought you just hated me."

Louis shook his head. "I don't hate you. I don't even know what I feel, but it's not hate. It's something more complicated. I don't want to push you away, but I don't want to be the guy who just messes with your head either."

Harry looked at Louis, his eyes searching for sincerity. "So, what are we supposed to do now?"

Louis hesitated, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and hope. "I think... we should talk about it. Figure out what's going on. And if it means we need to keep this between us for now, then maybe that's what we need."

Harry raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his expression. "Keep what between us?"

Louis took a deep breath, stepping closer. "The kiss. This whole thing. I don't want anyone else to know. Not until we understand it better. I don't want it to get messy or complicated before we even know what it means."

Harry looked at Louis, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "So you want it to be our little secret?"

Louis nodded, a touch of desperation in his voice. "Yeah. For now, at least. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to mess things up more than they already are. But if we can figure this out together, maybe we can make sense of it."

Harry considered this for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright. We'll keep it a secret. But you have to promise me we'll talk about it. No more running away."

Louis reached out, taking Harry's hand gently. "I promise. We'll figure it out."

Harry's eyes met Louis's, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. Without another word, Louis leaned in, capturing Harry's lips in a tender, more deliberate kiss. It was softer this time, filled with the confusion and hope they both felt.

When they pulled apart, Louis's heart was racing, but he felt a bit of relief. "This is our secret," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "Nobody else needs to know."

Harry nodded, a small, uncertain smile on his face. "Okay. Our secret."

They stood there for a moment, the weight of the unspoken truth hanging between them. Then, with a shared glance, they headed back inside, ready to continue their project and their newfound, complicated relationship—whatever it might turn out to be.