Louis' P.O.V.
It has gotten unpleasantly colder today. The leaves are withering away and frosting over and the lake under the bridge is covered in a thin layer of ice. My breath is coming out in huge puffs of chilling smoke as I take nervous breathes.
My heart pounded against my ribcage as I stared at the rotted front door of Harold's house. It is 4:00 as I stand on these broken steps and ponder about my decision to get here two hours before I was asked to. My morality is telling me that it's wrong for me to go against Harold's wishes. But my curiosity is telling me to open this door and walk right in.
"Fuck it," I mutter before grabbing a hold of the doorknob. I twist it as I pray that he forgot to lock the door. I finally pushed on the door and to my surprise and satisfaction, it opened with a loud creak. I quickly and quietly step in and close the door behind me, flinching at the eery sound it made as it closed. I wonder how old this house is.
I look around the familiar house and search for any sign of Harold. When I see none, I slowly make my way in the house more. It is truly magnificent. I don't understand how a man could live here by himself. I haven't even seen the whole house yet and I know that it's way too much for just one.
My thoughts were cut off when I heard a faint sound of a guitar coming from upstairs. The strum of each note was traveling down the steps and swimming all around me. I hum to the cords being played and close my eyes in bliss. Wow...is that him playing? I can't imagine it to be anyone else, what with him not enjoying company beyond Liam and Niall...and me.
I find myself walking up the steps and towards that lovely guitar playing. The cords are pleasant and light. I make a right as I get the the top of the stairs and I follow the music as if a spell has been put on me. As I walk down the dim hallway, I see that the walls are bare and the deep maroon wallpaper is peeled at the top. Scratches go across the wooden tiles of the floor and each door I pass is chipped and dusty. The floor creaks under my feet as I continue to walk, the music getting louder.
The hallway gets a little brighter as I make a left into another hallway, a balcony being presented to me. The dark wooden doors are opened wide and the cold from outside surrounds me once again. I gasp as I see Harold sitting on the railing of the stone balcony, his back facing me. His large hands dance across the strings of the cherry wood guitar in his lap. He's wearing jeans and a white bottom up that's untucked and his beautiful curly hair is wrapped up in a bun. God...he is so beautiful. Him sitting here playing the guitar and looking so handsome...I bite my lip as a weird stirring feeling travels all throughout my body. What is this feeling?
I was so wrapped up in my lustful thoughts of Harold that I hadn't noticed the music was no longer playing and I was being watched by the beautiful man himself.
"What are you doing here?" He based, his voice bouncing off the walls. I jump at his rage. My eyes are wide and my feet were ready to run.
"I-I...I'm sorry. I was curious and-"
"I told you to come at 6." He jumped from his position on the railing and hastily made his way in the warm house, slamming the doors of the balcony behind him without losing eye contact with me.
My breath is piqued. His bright green eyes are staring deep in my soul and I don't know whether or not I like it."Harold...I...can leave if that is what you wish. And...and never come back." I ignored how his angry scowl dropped as I swiftly turned around and began fleeting the way I came.
"No, wait!" He shouted after me.
I stopped. I normally would push forward, but that voice of his...I close my eyes as I think about how his command made me immediately submit. This is not me.
