Louis had hung back, let Harry walk to their room first as he silently tried to quell the anxiety filling up inside him. He doesn’t think he’s felt this nervous since that day he first saw Harry again on the pitch. Lately, whenever things get too intense, Louis can usually run the other way, escape. But there’s nowhere to go now and he’s scrambling.
“Alright, mate?” Zayn asks from behind him. He actually looks concerned, too.
Louis sighs, “Yeah. I’m fine. It’ll be fine.”
Zayn grips the back of his neck consolingly and then catches up to where Liam is waiting for him up ahead. The hall has emptied by the time Louis finally picks his bag up from the floor and treks down the hall until he reaches 428. The number is brassy and smooth, seems to mock him. He takes a deep breath and then rolls his eyes. This was ridiculous. There was obviously no way to get out of this, and Louis wasn’t going to deal with this tension for the rest of the week because Harry decided he wasn’t going to stop hating him anytime soon. He all but slams his keycard into the slot and waits for the light to burn green before shoving the door open.
He decides he’s going to be mature about this and has half a mind to strike up some kind of truce but when he walks into the room he sees Harry already lying in one of the beds, face turned away with his headphones in. It’s then that Louis notices that it’s completely dark outside. Fine, whatever, he thinks. It’s easier this way, anyway. Louis drops his bag, goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and then climbs straight into bed without a word. Harry obviously didn’t care about trying to make this situation less awkward so why should he waste his time?
He turns the lamp off, closes his eyes and tries not to wonder how long they can both stay silent before it drives them crazy.
000
They win their first game quite easily. It’s not all that surprising, the university they’re playing not exactly well known for their football program. But it’s a win all the same and none of them can stop smiling as they walk off the field. Coach Cowell rewards them by giving them the rest of the afternoon off to do whatever they want provided they are back at the hotel before curfew.
Louis is automatically pulled into whatever plans his friends have cooked up in the time it’s taken them to get back to their rooms (which turns out to be just hanging out in Niall’s room playing FIFA). He’s walking to his door, Harry trailing a few meters behind him when he hears Niall’s voice down the hall.
“Hey, Tommo, we’re getting food from downstairs first. You guys want anything?”
He and Harry both shake their heads in unison. “I’m fine, Nialler, thanks,” Louis says.
Niall turns to Harry then, “Haz, you’re coming over in a few, right?”
Louis freezes.
“Um…”
“Come on. Just for an hour or two, yeah?”
“Um…Yeah, okay.”
“Good lad.” He claps Harry’s shoulder and turns to walk to the lift, “See you tossers in a half!”
Louis opens the door quickly after that, not looking back at Harry. When he hears the door click shut behind him he’s prepared for more silence. So he starts when he hears Harry’s voice instead.
“I don’t… I don’t have to go, if it’s weird. I was just being polite…”
Louis stops, head turned slightly so Harry knows he’s heard him. He turns to face him slowly, his head shaking before he can stop himself.
