FINGERTIPS ║ Larry Stylinson

34 ║ Home

September 25th

Unlike a year ago, going back to class and following divers courses about English literature was not all fun to Louis. He couldn't deny it was very interesting, indeed. He couldn't either deny he was lucky to study in such a good college. But he also had to admit he could not bring himself to focus on whatever the teacher was rambling about Charles Dickens. It was Friday and all he wanted was to go back to the apartment and fall asleep until the next morning. It was what his mother used to tell him as a child, when he was expecting an event with lot of excitement. "Sleep makes time goes quicker". Although this time, the excitement was so strong he was not sure he could wait until Saturday. Louis had considered going home once his last class was over. That was excessive, he knew it. In a way, it didn't even fit him. Louis was grabbing onto the little piece of happiness he had with Harry, like a man on his life jacket in the middle of the ocean. Harry was his life jacket, his only hope. The world was about to take it away from him again. He knew it, he could feel the tension in his bones and the smell of fear floating in the air. He wanted to enjoy the short moment of rest. Soon enough, he would be pushed back into his bottomless pit, far away from happiness, far away from Harry. And to anyone who hadn't went through this fear, it may seem totally crazy. But to Louis? It was normal, it had become almost a habit, as sad as it could sound. The older boy knew how lucky he was, to feel his heart warm up in his chest, to fall asleep while listening to his boyfriend's steady breath. Compared to those last months, it was the best feeling he had ever been given the chance to feel. That's why he refused to let it go, even though he knew he wouldn't have a choice. There was this strange and cold shadow in the back of his mind. For now, it was asleep, leaving Louis to enjoy some time away from the darkness. But at some point, it would wake up and break another bone of his fragile petite body. Once again, Louis would get up and try and enjoy the moment until it comes back again and break him a little more. It was the more vicious thing he had ever faced. Having happiness taken away from him every single time he would allow himself to have hope again. Louis wondered if one day, he would be too tired to get back up on his feet. If one day, all the broken bones would turn into dust and he would just give up. At some point, Louis knew happiness wouldn't really worth all the pain anymore. He sighed loudly and it was it, he would drive back home once the teacher would let them go. If there was no much traffic, he would be home before dinner. Would it be too obvious if he took Harry out in some fast food? Probably. He couldn't focus for the rest of the class, and he knew he would have to make deep research about Charles Dickens to catch up his shortcomings.

Once he was in the car, the heat turned on to the maximum and the rain collapsing against the windscreen, he put on some music. His fingers danced thoughtlessly on the steering wheel as he focused on the road, covered in water. He was driving slowly, under the speed limit. He would rather arrive home late than in pieces. The weather was horrendous, the wind was strong, making the trees lean over the side walks. The rain was heavy, drowning the road under its torrent. Louis hummed the song, trapped in the middle of the traffic. As he drove slowly, he figured out a car crashed was the cause of the traffic. He felt relieved when he noticed a man on the side, wrapped in a rain jacket, talking to a policeman.
With the weather and the traffic, Louis arrived home much later than he had expected. It was already fully dark when he parked the car in the driveway. He waited a minute, he didn't want to leave the car, it was warm and cosy unlike outside where it was raining buckets. He hadn't told his family, he wanted it to be a surprise. Louis had never came home so early, or at least, not during the first month of school. And he wouldn't admit the fact he had rushed home mostly for Harry, his mother didn't need to know that. He pulled on his vintage Adidas windbreaker's collar to slide it over his head and grabbed his backpack before he ran outside to the front door. He shook the handle, frowning when the door didn't open. No. He didn't have spare key. Or he used to but didn't think about taking it to his apartment. Why would they be out? He ran back to his car so send a message to his mother, asking where they were. The reply was immediate.