Notes:
The POV in this story will sometimes shift to Harry, though the majority will be told from Louis'.
Chapter Text
Harry can’t remember when he met Louis exactly. He might have been eleven, he thinks, and Louis thirteen. His older sister, Gemma was in Louis’ year at school and whatever year she started babysitting for Lottie Tomlinson was the year Harry first laid eyes on Louis.
Their mums had been friends in that distant oh-our-children-are-in-the-same-year-and-I-sometimes-see-you-at-pta sort of way. It wasn’t until Gemma had been babysitting for the Tomlinsons for a good several months that Harry had been forced over there one evening when both their parents had been tied up with something or other.
That’s the first time he’d ever seen Louis Tomlinson, all loud and brash and full of an impossible energy that Harry couldn’t quite keep up with. Harry had played video games with the thirteen year old on the couch all night long. Louis hadn't spoken to him all that much, instead being obnoxiously loud to everyone in general (probably trying to get the attention of his older sister, he thinks, who had only rolled her eyes in annoyance), but Harry hadn’t minded.
And, the thing is, they weren't really friends at all until they were. If Harry could recall how it happened he’d probably write it down but he honestly can’t pinpoint any moment in time that marked the transition from Louis being the boy whose little sister Gemma sometimes babysat for to Louis being his best friend. It had happened so gradually, naturally, that it’s hard for Harry to even remember a time where Louis wasn’t present in his life in some way.
He thinks, even now, Louis is still the first person he ever truly loved outside of his mother and sister.
Even now, years after everything went to shit.
000
Harry wonders what had been going through his mind when he had agreed to go to this keg party. It’s just, the Irish goalkeeper, Niall, had been really nice to him. In fact, he’d been the most welcoming to Harry since he came to Essex. They shared a class together and the boy always went out of his way to talk to Harry. And he thinks he had wanted to go to the party at the time, Niall’s excitement over it infectious, but now, especially after what happened in the laundry room the other day, it’s sort of the last thing Harry wants to deal with.
He doesn’t know if he can see Louis right now, is the thing. That pain and disappointment that he spent two years burying, closing off into a neat little container; he feels it cracking open a little more each time he sees Louis. He wants to laugh at how weak he actually is. He thought he was over all of this, had finally come to terms with what happened. He felt stronger, like he’d actually accomplished something these past two years, become someone that wasn’t so dependent on another person for happiness. He even felt strong the day he first saw Louis again after two years. It had been a surprise, seeing him, and there was still massive resentment there, but that fear of falling apart wasn’t. And Harry had been so afraid that if he ever did see Louis again that it would be.
Now, he’s not so sure he’s actually accomplished anything. Because all it took was a look, a few words, his back against a wall and a thumb pressed into his jaw to make him question everything. But how? How did he get here? With a boy so far, so deep into his skin and bones that he’ll always be a part of him, always have the power to turn him inside out no matter how far he runs? He’s angry. He’s so angry all the time now and he hates it. He’s playing football at one of the top universities in England and he should love everything about his life right now, but instead he’s moving backwards.
Holmes Chapel, Cheshire, England | Two years earlier
It’s on a brilliant assist by Louis that they score in the last seconds of the game and win. The crowd erupts into cheers and Harry can’t hear anything over the buzzing in his ears. His eyes don’t leave Louis as the boy slides across the grass, hair everywhere, wailing at the top of his lungs in excitement. He can’t make it to his best friend through all the people that have gathered on the field in celebration; He can only watch him as he’s pulled into the giant team huddle along with Harry.
