The Last Stop - Larry one shot

THE LAST STOP

The Last Stop

Harry has been on this train for the past two hours. Boredom is oozing out on every part of his body. It’s only a good thirty minutes before he reaches his station — the last station. He’s used to boredom anyway. See, Harry’s lived most of his days in school alone. He’s never had one true friend. He doesn’t mind, though. He’s sort of glad. See, disappointment is a very familiar feeling to Harry. His parents gave that feeling to him when he came out as gay, and was seeking for some comfort. It’s not that they didn’t accept him, they just weren’t understanding. They — like every other parent out there — thought it was just another “phase” in Harry’s life, and that it would soon go away. He knew it wasn’t — that feeling has already made a home in his heart.

Harry looks outside the window and watches life carry on with no care in the world. He can hear the wind whistle a melancholy hymn, the trees rustling a song of life, the rain pitter pattering on the window. It’s like nature itself is an orchestra, which blended majestically with each other, creating a melodic symphony.

Harry felt at ease.

He could live every day by nature’s side. He feels less lonely that way, even though the world didn’t care about him, he felt like — well, he felt like he was important.

His peace is rudely interrupted when a low voice comes from across the table. “Hi, Harry,” the voice, which was low enough to definitely categorize to be a male’s voice, said calmly.

Harry turned away from the window to face the source of the voice. His eyes were greeted with beautiful sapphire blue eyes, rosy pink cheeks (which could light up the world), and the most beautiful smile the world has ever seen.

“Hey, Louis,” Harry says delightfully. His heart is warming up by the war Louis’ name rolls out of his mouth.

His heart skips a beat.

“How’s it going?” Louis asks.

“Great, of course. I’m always great, especially when I see you,” Harry admits, and a smile plasters itself on both the boys’ faces.

“Had a good birthday, Harry?”

“Yeah, now that I’m sixteen, I can finally get lottery tickets.” Harry chuckles. He’s never felt so happy with anyone before. It’s like he knew Louis way before they first met. He can just be himself whenever they are together. His shields would disintegrate the moment those blue eyes met his.

He has no control over his feelings when he’s around Louis.

Whatsoever.

“No need for sarcasm, H.”

“It was a joke!”

“I know, but I take my luck and I very seriously.”

“Yeah, tell me that when you’re holding one million pounds in your hands,” Harry teases. “Oh, that’s right, you can’t.”

“We’ll see.” Louis smirks, going to grab Harry’s hand and enclose his upon Harry’s. He didn’t need to look at Harry to feel the massive smile that grew upon the boy’s face.

“Louis, I know you won’t judge me,” he admits. Of course he won’t! He’s not real, Harry thinks. “But, I like you — a lot,” Harry says, immediately getting the boy’s attention. His blue eyes sparkling with hope as his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape.

“Harry, I —” Louis replies nervously. “Same.”

The response is good enough to Harry, as his heart kicks him in the chest, trying oh-so-hard to break free and jump into Louis’ arms, only to stay there for an eternity . . . real or not!

“Arriving at our final destination shortly,” a high-pitched, woman’s voice echoes along the train carriage. This doesn’t faze the lovers as they exchange heart eyes.

Reality kicks in for Harry, as he was getting too comfortable.

“I’m sorry, Lou, but you’re not real,” Harry says weakly. He’s holding back the tears behind his eyes.

“What? Of course I am,” Louis replies, shock written all over his face.

“No, you’re not! You’re just another one of my imaginary friends!”

“Imaginary? Me? Harry, I’ve been here since you were born. Our mum’s are practically sisters! How am I imaginary?” Louis’ voice raises with anger and his cheeks turn from pink to red.

“I’m sorry, Louis, I can’t lie to myself! You’ll be gone soon!” Harry can no longer keep the tears back as he chokes each word out of his mouth.

“I am real! I’ve been with you ever since . . .” Louis pauses, the memory hitting him like a brick wall. “The accident.” He falls silent.

“Accident?” Harry asks curiously.

Louis lets out a big sigh and begins talking. “I was nine years old, you were still seven. We went to the park by the railway, remember, you loved it there because they had the best swings or whatever. Then mum got a phone call and left us unattended. We both snuck off and headed toward the railway. You began balancing on the train track and everything was so great. ‘Til . . .” he pauses. Tears are building up in his eyes, blocking his eyesight into Harry’s eyes. “Until that train horn came. You got scared and fell onto the track. I helped you up, as the lights came closer. The sounds got louder, and I pushed you. I pushed you away! Everything went silent then . . . there was no pain! Just . . . peace. I have never left you, Harry. Not then; not now.”

Harry stares at Louis, shocked with the memory he has just recalled.

“How come I don’t remember?” asks Harry, who has no expression upon his face.

“You must have blacked out when I pushed you away — must’ve hit something,” Louis suggests, tears now streaming down his cheeks.

Harry thinks to himself, pondering whether this is all true. It was too much to take in. He doesn’t want to believe that he was the cause of someone’s — who he now cares about, dearly — death. However, he can’t shake it off as a life, either. So, he thinks of one thing to set things straight.

“If you’re real, kiss me,” Harry says, still emotionless.

Louis looks startled, but smiles through the pain. He leans in and connects his lips to Harry’s. A warm sensation spreads throughout Harry’s body, like it was a wakeup call, his emotions and thoughts come flooding back in. He deepens the kiss. He feels safe and warm, something he hasn’t felt in a long while. Even though he is kissing a ghost, it feels so real. Then the kiss breaks.

“Now you know I’m real. I will always be beside you, Harry,” Louis says with a big grin plastered upon his face.

“We have reached our final destination. Please mind the gap when exiting the train,” the same high-pitched voice sounds through the carriage.

Harry finally opens his eyes after the kiss, to find he’s alone. Yet, he feels united. He grabs his bag from the bag shelf and makes his way to the exit. He is just about to exit when he feels a warm kiss on his neck. He smiles and walks through the doors, braver than anyone.

He isn’t, and never will be, alone.

— FIN —