Obsession - l.s

Obsession

Louis Tomlinson watched his ex fall in love with somebody else on Facebook.
Keeping tabs on him via social media became a form of self-inflicted torture that he just couldn't quit.

Louis and Harry broke up in the parking lot of an Uno Pizzeria in Boston.

Harry wanted to settle down. He wanted kids and a good job and a yard for a dog to run in. Louis wanted New York. And London. And maybe Thailand for a year or two. Louis wanted to write and to live in a shitty apartment and to be in love in a tumultuous way. He was barely 21; He didn't want it to be easy yet.

They ordered two individual deep-dish pizzas to go and sat in Harry's car eating them in silence. They told themselves it would be nice not to tip, or to listen to the bad '90s songs they played inside the restaurant, but maybe it was just nice to not talk for a while.

"Something isn't right," Louis had said.

"Did they give you the wrong sauce?" Harry looked at Louis with a face of genuine concern that reminded Louis why he loved him.

"No. Not the pizza. Us," Louis said.

A spot of red sauce crept down Harry's chin. Without permission, Louis wiped it away with his thumb.
Through tears, they sat in the car making promises they couldn't keep, their cold pizza unattended at their feet.

Maybe in a couple years, they had promised each other.

Louis held onto that longer than he should have.

It was Louis' justification three months later as he clicked through Harry's Facebook profile late at night.

I just want to see how he is, Louis told himself. I wonder if he's found that job yet, Louis reasoned.

I wonder if his parents are still in good health.

Louis always had a good reason for going back.

Their first photograph together was taken at a party.

At least Louis can assume it was a party from the red Solo cup she held and his tipsy half-smile — the same one Louis used to tease him about. His fingers were wrapped around her waist and as Louis stared at his computer screen he tried not to think about how he used to feel when Harry put his hands the same place on him.

Maybe they're just friends. Did he know her while we were dating? I wonder if they spent the night together.
I'm not allowed to care, Louis reminded himself.

But he did. Louis slammed his laptop shut. He was done torturing himself for one night. But when he fell asleep, Louis dreamt of Harry.

It was winter. Dirty snow lined the parking lot of the 7-Eleven where they bought papers to roll joints. As they leaned against the car Louis could feel the cold spreading through his body from the soles of his feet.
Harry exhaled purposefully onto him, Harry's cloud of hot breath drifting toward Louis.