FINGERTIPS ║ Larry Stylinson

33 ║ Actions Speak Louder Than Words

September 20th

Louis had never thought he could ever be this disappointed in someone. Since the conversation he had with his mother, he had sent many text to either Liam or Zayn. He had told them he simply wanted to talk, to know what they were planning to do about the situation. The thing was, he had not received any replies yet, and it had been three days already. What could take them so long? The fear of facing the truth and consequences of their acts? Louis had even considered the fact he was maybe the problem in all of this. Was he too serious? Too old school? Too in love to even think about doing such a thing? No, probably not. It was just wrong, he had been taught it was since he was big enough to understand what love was. And he was happy his mother had taught him to respect his partner. Because this was what love was supposed to be about, respect. The disappointment was almost unbearable, slowly turning into utter anger.
He closed the door of his car and sighed as he turned toward his family, who was gathered outside the house. He was going back to his apartment away from home. In a way, he was kind of happy, his apartment meant quietness and solitude. But it also meant being away from his family and Harry for the next weeks. He was rarely going back during week ends, but maybe he would this time. And Halloween was going to be on a Saturday and they had planned to go to Louis' family's cottage near Ecclesall Woods. Maybe that wouldn't happen though, knowing their friendship state and most importantly, the fact Tamara and Louis were not together anymore. Johannah walked closer and spread her arms to hug him.

"You call me once you arrived, right?" she said, pressing her arms around his back.

He nodded with a smile.

"And you don't forget to turn off the oven when you finish cooking. And lock the door when you leave! And sleep early! Don't forget to go buy the food you need for the week, okay?!"

And she kept on going and his siblings were smiling behind her. Because it was always like that and since he found this flat, it was worst. But it was cute, in a way. How even though he had so much pressure on his shoulders, she always treated him like a child. It felt nice.

"Honey, he got it." Dan stopped her.

She nodded and smiled but Louis noticed her glassy eyes. She was always emotional each time they were going back to school. Almost like they were about to leave the house for the next year and only come back in July. She stroke his arm gently and he turned toward his sisters. Lottie crashed against his chest and held him tightly. Girls in his family were pretty much all emotional. But he felt important. Like they needed him. He wished he could throw back his luggages in the house and stay here, in his house. He didn't know how it would be, with all the stress and those new weird feelings dragging him down every now and then. Would he be able to get up and go to college? He had never skipped school.
After he had said goodbye to the rest of his siblings, he started to drive away from his house. He looked up to the rear-view mirror and noticed his family waving at him. And he knew how hard this first week was going to be.

But Louis didn't think it would be that hard. He had never really realised how addicted he was to Harry. But after spending four days away from him, it was already tearing his flesh off his bones. Of course, he missed his family. The loud laughters of Ernest and Doris watching animations. The loud yelling of Phoebe and Daisy fighting. The loud music coming from Félicité's room. Life was really noisy in his house, now everything was quiet. But Harry, it was different. From his timid smile to the grimace distorting his face as he focused on work, he missed everything. He missed his muscled arms gently wrapped around his back as he cuddled on his side. Or the beating of his heart against his hand. The tickling of his curls on his cheek as he hugged him. His deep and slow voice caressing his eardrums and the shivers running up his spine as Harry whispered in his ear.
He had been lying down in his bathtub for almost an hour. A cup of hot tea was resting on the tray over the water, as well as his phone with some 80s music playlist on. And maybe he had lighted on some candles on the edges. He had started reading The Picture Of Dorian Gray after his teacher had told them they would work on it in January. It was a bit early, perhaps, but he couldn't tell if he would be able to work seriously in four months. Better be careful. He had looked up for the different books they would work on through the year, and Oscar Wilde's novel was the one he felt the most attracted to. He had found it very easily at the library and here he was, going through the ninth chapter slowly. The slow music and the gentle scent of jasmine – he had read somewhere it was effective against anxiety – emanating from the candles helped him drown easier in between the sentences. He stopped for a minute. His eyes landed on the dancing flame of the white candle for a moment. This extract seemed harder to get through than the beginning of the book. "I grew jealous of every one to whom you spoke. I wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I was with you." It was Basil's confidence to Dorian. And it seemed a bit too relatable. He sighed, slid the bookmark in between the pages and closed the book gently. He placed it back onto the tray and took his phone. And maybe he had a secret file titled "Harry" in it, with a somewhat crazy amount of picture of the curly haired boy. And maybe, Harry had no idea about this file because every single photos had been taken sneakily. Yes, it was creepy. So creepy and he knew it but sometimes he would just catch Harry acting so adorably and he had felt the need to take pictures. And Harry didn't really need to know that, he would probably be terrified. So Louis went through the photos. He slid his fingers across the screen. From Harry sleeping with slightly parted lips and his cheek squashed against the pillow to Harry leaned on his Braille book, a large frown distorting his face with his tongue trapped in between his lips. From miles away, the younger boy seemed even cuter, so much more attractive, absolutely vital. Louis knew he was acting like he had not seen Harry for decades and he felt pretty ridiculous. But he couldn't help it. On one of the picture, that he had taken two days before he had to leave, Harry looked like a some unreal man out of a romance novel. You know, those kind of men who are described as the most beautiful creature Earth could ever carry. On the image, the young boy was lying down onto Louis' bed, he was only wearing some baggy boxing shorts and his bare chest was showing. Louis was not allowed to have this picture in his phone, was he? Harry was unbearably magnificent on this shot. He was stretching, his ribs were pushing slightly against his lightly tan skin and the soft light of the rising sun was caressing his torso almost too beautifully. The photograph was taken in such an angle that the shadow on his chest emphasised his abs. So much beauty gathered in only one picture seemed to be unrealistic. Louis stared at the picture for a while before he left the file and went into his contacts list. He scrolled down and his thumb hit Harry's name. After he brought the phone to his ear, he waited for what seemed like hours until Harry's deep voice went to graze his eardrum.