since back when ➸larry stylinson (temporary hold)

Ninth Grade (Freshman) -Part Two

Previously...

"Louis do you like anybody?" I surprised myself by asking.

I could feel him tense against me, his fingertips digging into my forearms before he relaxed.

"Uhm, no," he stuttered, and I forced myself not to press further.

"I don't like anybody either," I lied, and the air between us seemed too thick.

***

Harry's POV

"Oh," Louis said, but his voice sounded strained. I turned my head to look at him, but he had buried his face in the pillow.

"Louis?" I asked, hesitantly touching his hair.

He didn't respond.

"I don't like anybody," he repeated. It seemed like he was trying to convince himself.

"I think... uhm... I think I need to go to the bathroom." Louis and I rarely had awkward moments, but this time I was just upset, hurt, and confused.

And for some reason I felt alone.

I walked on the wood floor of my new bedroom (I had made my mum get me a wood floor for the new house, carpet was quite annoying) out the door. I couldn't help but look back at Louis once more, at his small little body laying on the bed, and I felt a tug at my heart.

"I don't like anybody," I heard him say to himself just as I was about to go into the bathroom. And I think that's when I lost it.

I slammed the door shut with a rushed breath and leaned against the door for a few seconds, holding back my tears. But one look in the mirror, at my dull eyes and pale face, at my eyes shining in the yellow light, caused me to burst into tears.

I think I imagined it when I heard Louis jump up off the bed at the sound of my choked sobs.

With each shake of my body, a new problem arose in my mind. But one stuck out among the rest of them.

Louis will never like me. He only thinks of me as his best friend.

"Harry?" I cringed at the sound of his melodic, light voice, though a bit muffled through the door as I sat on the tile floor.

Maybe he will forget about me and leave. Maybe he'll find some other person to hang out with, someone who can kiss him like he deserves. Someone that isn't so close to him that was so important that a relationship wouldn't be so fragile to have.

"Harry? What's wrong?" I whimpered slightly, curling into myself. The pangs in my hearts were becoming unbearable.

This wasn't just a crush.

And as Louis started to plead with me through the door, to please open it, I let my mind wander into the place I tried my best to prevent it from going.

Louis' eyes.

His blue, shining eyes. The eyes that sparkled when he laughed, the eyes that forever would remind me of the ocean. The images of his eyes in my mind, when he was smiling or when he was crying, would never leave. Maybe it was because I was always staring into them, reading every thought of his as he read mine.

His hair.

Louis and I had many debates over who had better hair. Just because my hair was curly didn't mean it was better. I loved to run my fingers through his incredibly soft fringe and listen to the little purrs that slipped through his lips. I loved seeing it drip as he came out of the shower when he slept over, brushing his eyelashes so delicately that he couldn't help but blink a bit in this perfect way.