When We Fell In Love

Chapter 21: St. Valentine's - Part 2

Staying away from Louis was turning out to be harder than Harry had anticipated. He had not planned for things to go this way, but he certainly did not feel ready to face the backlash he would get if it came out that the faggot was him. That word, especially after it left the mouth of someone he thought was a friend, still burned in his mind. He was not even sure if he was fully gay, and yet he felt the relentless judgment of others.

On the other hand, Louis was doing everything he could to keep Harry from slipping away. Harry could see every effort Louis made, every glance in his direction, every step he took towards him, every time he tried to pull him into a secluded corner for a kiss. Harry missed Louis' lips terribly, the way his eyes studied every inch of his face, his hands threading gently through his hair. Every time these thoughts, these memories, resurfaced, Harry barely held back tears. How had he ended up feeling this way after so little time? After not even understanding who he was as a person?

As little as he did, Harry still could not fully give up on the Room of Requirement and the friends who had been so supportive there. He did not go as regularly, and when he did, he stayed only a few minutes. Every time, Louis would smile at him, even though it was becoming sadder, more melancholy, and more pained. Harry could feel the hurt he was causing Louis, and each time it felt like a stab to his heart. He wanted nothing more than to fall into Louis' arms and tell him everything—the words Caradoc had said, his fears, his thoughts—but he knew he could not. He did not want Louis to feel the same pain those words had inflicted on him.

So he continued to summon what little self-control he had left, telling himself over and over that he was doing this for the good of them both, and that this way they might never get discovered.

As Valentine's Day approached, Harry was feeling worse by the day. By Monday morning, his dark, heavy under-eye circles showed the toll of too many sleepless nights. He sat slumped over the table, his head resting in his hands, scowling.

"Haz, my friend," Niall said, sitting down next to him and ruffling his hair.

Niall had been by his side every day through this, never pushing him for answers, but Harry had confided in him anyway. He needed someone's support, and he trusted Niall like no one else. Niall always looked at him with concern, making sure he ate, drank, and slept, even just a little, to stop him from slowly wasting away in this pit of despair.

"Hey," Harry muttered.

"How are you?"

"Great, amazing, living the dream," Harry replied sarcastically.

"You don't need to be sarcastic with me. I know you're feeling like shit; it's pretty obvious." Niall gestured to his dark circles. "Look, Harry, I told myself I'd stay out of this, but I can't keep watching you like this."

Harry sat up a bit straighter, his interest piqued by those words.

"Do you know something, Ni?" Harry asked.

"Louis came to talk to me a few days ago." Harry's eyes went wide. "He was worried."

"And what did you tell him?" A slight wave of panic rose in his throat.

"He was worried he'd done something wrong."

"No..." Harry's voice cracked. "He hasn't done anything wrong..."

"That's exactly what I told him. I told him you were scared because it's not easy being like you guys in this world, and to be patient and not put any pressure on you." Niall's face suddenly darkened. "Don't tell me he did something he shouldn't have... I told him he would pay for that..."