the journal - h.s.

32

"What the actual fuck! You can't just storm off the scene like that!" Louis' voice was loud with frustration as he stared at Harry. As Harry didn't really react to his words other than sending him a peaceful look, Louis groaned and moved his gaze in irritation. Then the brown haired front singer finally seemed to take notice of me standing there a little behind Harry, half hidden almost. Harry had stepped forward as Louis had approached - almost in a protecting manner I realized.

"Well I just did," Louis' eyes snapped back to Harry as his words sounded calm in the cold night.

Louis seemed to be used to this kind of response from Harry - he threw his hands into the air in an despairing manner, "bring it on then - what's the explanation this time Styles! Because you always seem to be so damn good at arguing for your case!"

Harry didn't seem worried at all, as a grin slipped into his features. Though that openness that had been in his body language, that softness to his eyes, which had been visible when it had just been the two of us were now gone. With Louis here, he was suddenly being a Harry Styles, who closed of the world and didn't seem to be willing to let anybody in. He seemed guarded. This totally shocked me - I had reckoned he might be just as open to everyone else. Or at least his close friends. But even to his bandmate Louis - whom I guessed was a pretty good friend - he had this kind of facade up.

"And for a girl? No offense babe," Louis said the last part to me with eyes that gleamed with the annoyance over the stupidness of his impossible band member. My heart seemed to make a loop in my chest, as Louis pointed out what came off as obvious. Harry ditching his own concert for a girl. For me!

"You said it yourself right there Louis - facile est inventis addere." Louis stared at him with a 'what-the-fuck-can-I-use-this-to' look in his blue eyes.

"I don't speak latin - you know that! How fucking many times do I have to remind you!" The front singer practically yelled at Harry, who surprisingly enough only grew even more amused with the situation. To me it seemed like Louis had the upper hand in this. It hadn't been right for Harry to storm out like that - it wouldn't be good for their image. Even if it had just been a small gig.

"Latin is not a spoken language - it's a written one. No one speaks latin but," Harry started with confident. He really loved to tease the other guy, who put his arms over his chest.

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!" He announced loudly, making the group further away turn to look at us.

"It is easy to add to things, that are already invented. Facile est inventis addere. You said it yourself - I stormed out of a concert to chase after a girl. That's gonna be a good story to tell don't you think? And you know what good stories are besides entertaining? They're free promotion. So here I actually gave you a perfectly innocent and probably seemingly romantic to most - story which easily can turn into good promotion for us. Facile est inventis addere. I always think things through - you ought to know that by now." Harry's voice was creepily calm and with just a hint of almost sick amusement. He knew he was right - that this obvious logic would benefit them.

The words was hanging in the air and the group of people watching us started chatting - did he storm out here because of that girl? I could hear one whisper excitedly. Louis started laughing, as he shook his head while muttering to himself, "brilliant. I don't know how the fuck you come up with this shit! You've out done yourself this time."

I on the other hand stared up at Harry. My heart had sunk in my chest with every word he had uttered. How had he just managed to turn such a romantic and reckless act into a promotion opportunity? Also it scared me - I knew he had not come out here with that intention. Of that I was rather sure - but that he just seconds ago had made a practically lost case into a winner one? Where had he learned that? His words had been of politicians' or maybe a lawyer's. How the hell did a poor band member from Chicago with holes in his damn shirt know latin expressions and could come up stuff like this? And as the cherry on the freaking top - he had already made sure the story was starting to spread, as people coming out of the bar was told the story by the group who had just overheard Harry. Several 'aw's' were travelling through the street here outside the bar already.

"I'm sorry love - he always does that. Should be a fucking lawyer or something," Louis stuck his hand out to me, with an amused smile and a shrug. I guessed he was used to his guitarist cleaning 'up after himself'.

As Louis had listened to Harry, I had moved up to stand next to the curly haired boy so I could watch his green eyes and the guarded features of his, while he spoke his case. To my surprise Harry had lightly touched my hand, which was hanging down my side between us, while talking. Nothing much. Just with the tips of his fingers as if to make sure I was still there. And his skin had been so warm and comfortable. As if the light innocent touch was our connection. I wasn't sure anyone had noticed his caring movement, as his knuckles has brushed ever so lightly over my skin. Almost as if to say sorry for his words, while he stated them. As if to tell me he was still there - that the facade wasn't meant for me.

I chuckled at Louis' words, as I tore my hand away from Harry's in order to shake hands with the other boy. I couldn't help smiling as a small groan slipped from Harry at the lack of our contact. He might be a brilliant mind - but to my joy he had made it all up. I knew that. I knew it from the gesture, the groan, the way he stood so close to me, the way he seemed to observe the developing relation between Louis and me. And I didn't mind one bit. With all I was - I was his. If he felt the same anyway.

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a/n: I love you guys x massive love and merry christmas! So what are your plans for the holiday? :) I'm gonna eat. (and maybe write a little too ;)