The "Biggest" Fan (EN)

15.

Lottie said that Harry should be here soon. Why was there a part of me that felt so restless? He was coming over for her, they were going to rehearse together, and I really shouldn't even be here. But here I was, sitting in the living room, pretending to be deeply interested in some crappy TV show.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Damn, it was him.

"Louis, could you get that? My hands are full," I heard Lottie call from the kitchen. Judging by the sound of running water, she was probably washing dishes.

I took a deep breath and got up from the couch. I quickly walked to the door, then just stood there for a few seconds, unmoving.

As soon as I opened the door, Harry's face lit up with a soft, unexpected smile, a little surprised. His eyes scanned my face like he hadn't expected me to be the one answering, and for a split second, I thought he might say something else. Instead, he just whispered, "Hi, Louis."

"Hi," I managed, but before I could think to step back or say anything else, Harry moved closer and pulled me into his arms, catching me off guard. I froze, my arms awkwardly hanging at my sides.

The hug was firm yet gentle. My body tensed out of habit, but after a moment, I let myself lean into it just a little. After a heartbeat, maybe two, Harry pulled back, letting his hands slowly fall from my shoulders.

"I... Didn't think you were the hugging type," I let out a small, awkward laugh.

"Oh, you have no idea," he smirked, his expression shifting for a second. "Honestly, I figured there was a fifty-fifty chance you'd either hug me back or throw a punch."

"Ha-ha," I rolled my eyes. "Look at you, taking risks today."

He looked me straight in the eyes, still smiling, as if trying to read something in my face. But then his gaze was interrupted.

"Harry!" Lottie appeared in the doorway, looking radiant as ever. I watched as Harry pulled her into a similar hug. Maybe a little shorter, but definitely just as enthusiastic. So he really was a hugger, huh?

I tried to catch his eye, but he wasn't looking at me anymore. He and Lottie started chatting about things that mattered to them - Lottie gushing about her concert as if Harry knew nothing about it. Then Harry began recounting funny stories from his tour, ones I'd already heard just days before. Did I feel bad that Lottie had no idea about our friendship? Absolutely. Did I feel even worse that Harry was still pretending we barely knew each other? Absolutely.

Well, I had no reason to be here. I felt like an intruder eavesdropping on someone else's conversation.

I went to my room, wondering if being close to Harry was even a good idea. He was just a pop star, a pro at putting on faces to please everyone. Had I fallen for it?

I opened my blue notebook. Words poured out as soon as I touched the pen to paper. I hadn't written anything new in a while, but now I even had a rough melody in mind.

I picked up my guitar and started to figure out the right chords, strumming softly with my thumb so the sound wouldn't carry downstairs. Quietly, I murmured the lyrics, pausing now and then to write down ideas so I wouldn't forget them.

After a while, I ran to the bathroom quickly, but I wasn't at all prepared for what I found when I got back.

Harry. In my room. Holding my notebook.

Every part of me froze as tension shot through me. "What the hell are you doing here?" I tried not to yell since Lottie was downstairs, but my jaw was clenched, and I felt a rush of heat through my body. My feet felt numb, and I just stood there, unable to move.