TORN

Chapter 6 (Part 2): Under the Night Sky

The bar was starting to quiet down, with the few remaining patrons slumped over their drinks, and the bartender wiping down the counter in preparation for closing. Harry and Louis had been sitting for what felt like hours, though the conversation between them had blurred time. Their glasses clinked as they finished their latest round, and the warmth of the whiskey still lingered in Harry's chest.

The bartender approached, looking a little tired but still polite. "Last round, gentlemen. We're closing soon."

Louis stretched dramatically, his arms over his head, before letting out an exaggerated yawn. "Already? That's a shame." He shot Harry a grin, eyes twinkling mischievously. "The night's still young, though, don't you think?"

Harry found himself chuckling despite the inner turmoil that had been building throughout the evening. Louis always managed to make everything feel lighter, more carefree, even when the air between them was thick with unspoken tension.

They finished their drinks, and as they left the bar, the cool night air hit them. It was a stark contrast to the warm, crowded atmosphere inside, and Harry breathed in deeply, feeling the chill on his skin. The streets were quieter now, with only the occasional car passing by. Above them, the sky stretched out in a canopy of stars, the moon casting a soft glow over the city.

Louis shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, strolling along the sidewalk with the same easy confidence he carried in every situation. Harry followed a few steps behind, his thoughts spinning. The night had unveiled feelings he hadn't been ready to face, and Louis' effortless charm only made it harder to ignore.

"You look like your head's about to explode," Louis remarked with a laugh, turning slightly to glance at Harry. "What's going on in there, Professor?"

Harry gave a half-smile, but the truth was, he wasn't sure how to answer. His mind was a mess of conflicting emotions, and the weight of them all was starting to press down on him.

"You think too much," Louis continued, walking backwards for a few steps so he could face Harry. "I can see it all over your face. You've gotta learn how to just... let go."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but his words were cut off by a voice from across the street. "Fucking fag!" The word hung in the air, venomous and harsh.

Harry froze. His fists clenched at his sides, anger surging through him in a way he hadn't expected. His first instinct was to turn around, to confront whoever had shouted, to protect Louis. But before he could act, Louis was already turning, his expression calm, almost amused.

"Oh, and you've got nothing better to do than yell at strangers?" Louis called back, his voice carrying easily through the quiet street. "Real original, mate. Bet your mum's proud."

The man who had shouted blinked, momentarily stunned by Louis' quick response. Without saying another word, he slunk back into the shadows, clearly not interested in picking a fight. Louis turned back to Harry, his smile unbothered, as if the entire exchange hadn't even ruffled him.

Harry stood there, his fists still clenched, heart pounding. "I would've..."

"What?" Louis interrupted, his tone light but with an edge of curiosity. "You were gonna what? Fight him? Waste your energy on someone who doesn't matter?"

"I just... I don't like people talking to you like that," Harry muttered, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He realized how ridiculous it sounded after he said it, but it was the truth.

Louis raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his face. "That's sweet," he said, stepping closer to Harry. "But trust me, Hazza, people like that don't get under my skin. You don't need to protect me."

Harry let out a frustrated breath, the tension still coiled tight inside him. Louis was right, of course. He always seemed to be right. But the urge to defend him, to stand up for him, had been so strong. Maybe it wasn't just about the insult. Maybe it was something more, something deeper that Harry didn't want to admit to himself yet.

Louis was watching him closely now, the playful gleam in his eyes replaced by something softer, more knowing. "You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice losing some of its usual teasing tone.

Harry hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah... I'm fine."

But he wasn't fine. Every fiber of his being was on edge, and Louis' presence – his closeness, the way he seemed to look straight through Harry – only made it worse. They walked in silence for a while, the tension between them palpable, the weight of all the things left unsaid hanging in the air.

As they reached a quieter part of the street, Louis stopped walking and turned to face Harry. "You know," he began, his voice low, "you're not as good at hiding things as you think you are."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. He wanted to deny it, to brush off whatever Louis was implying, but he couldn't find the words.

Louis took a step closer, his eyes searching Harry's face. "You've been on edge all night," he continued. "And it's not just because of that idiot back there, is it?"

Harry swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He didn't know how to answer, didn't know if he even could.

"You're still thinking too much," Louis said softly, his voice almost a whisper now. He reached out, his hand brushing lightly against Harry's arm. The touch was gentle, but it sent a jolt of electricity through Harry's body.

Harry's breath hitched, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade. It was just him and Louis, standing under the stars, the tension between them growing with every passing second.

"I..." Harry began, but his voice failed him.

Louis stepped even closer, their faces now just inches apart. "Hazza," he said softly, his breath warm against Harry's skin. "You don't have to say anything."

And then, without waiting for a response, Louis leaned in. Their lips met in a kiss that was both gentle and intense, a release of all the unspoken tension that had been building between them all night. Harry's mind went blank, his body reacting instinctively as he pulled Louis closer, the warmth of his touch grounding him in a way nothing else had.

For a moment, everything else disappeared. The confusion, the fear, the uncertainty – it all melted away, leaving only the feeling of Louis' lips on his, the weight of his body pressing against him.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other's. Louis smiled, a small, satisfied smile. "That didn't take as long as I thought it would."

Harry let out a breathless laugh, his heart still racing. "Yeah... I guess it was inevitable."

Louis chuckled softly, stepping back but keeping his hand lightly on Harry's arm. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. You've been practically vibrating all night."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, still trying to process what had just happened. Everything between them had shifted, and yet, it felt right – like this was where the night had always been headed.

They started walking again, slower this time, the quiet of the night wrapping around them like a blanket. The tension between them had changed – it was still there, but now it felt more like a shared secret, something only the two of them understood.

As they walked, Louis glanced over at Harry, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know, you're gonna have to stop overthinking everything if you want to keep up with me."

Harry smiled, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. "I'm working on it."

Louis laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "Good. 'Cause I'm not going anywhere."

They continued down the street, side by side, the night stretching out ahead of them full of possibilities.