"Lovely"

Part Twenty Seven (Louis)

Part Twenty Seven (Louis)

 I couldn’t stay with him. I wanted to, believe me I did, but I couldn’t. There as something so off about Harry now that I’d seen him in…whatever state he was in earlier that I just couldn’t shake. Part of me saw it as a warning, that I should watch out for Harry, that maybe, just maybe, he isn’t the person I thought that he was.

But that’s crap. 

It has to be, I mean, Harry cares about me. He only hurt Liam to protect me, even though he didn’t look at the situation rationally. However, thinking back on it now from my makeshift bed on Dan’s floor, I can see that Harry was simply being irrational. He had always told me about all of the things that he was going to do to Liam when he met him, and to be honest, I’m surprised that he didn’t do more.

What was troubling me was the fact that I had gone to Liam. Liam, of all people, over Harry. And he called me on it. At the end of the day, Liam was the one who was trying to make things right, and it really was quite big of him to make a move towards repairing our relationship. If only Harry hadn’t been there to ruin it.

Maybe this sounds ridiculous, but I really do want Harry to like Liam now that we’ve begun to fix things. I know that he hadn’t meant to hurt me, and if he did, he is truly sorry for it.

That does not; however, make it Harry’s place to act for me.

Despite being angry at Liam, and terrified of him as well, I can’t find it in myself to hate him anymore. He really took a big step towards making things right, and it’s not really my right to try and stop him.

I’m so tired of losing sleep over this, maybe it’s time to move on.

~~

The next morning arrives all too quickly. I wake up on Dan’s floor, to the smell of breakfast cooking downstairs. It’s only Thursday, so I’m not entirely sure why someone’s actually cooking. School starts in an hour, there isn’t enough time.

No matter, I dress quickly, shoving all of my belongings into my messenger bag and coming swiftly down the stairs and into the kitchen.

It’s Harry.

He’s got Dad’s red grilling apron on, and haf of his hair is pulled messily into an elastic.

“What’s all this?” I laugh,  moving towards him and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I made you breakfast,” he stammers, “to…make up for last…night…”

He trails off into his thoughts, not voicing them to me.

When I don’t respond right away, he continues. “Louis, I’m so sorry about what happened. I lost my temper…and Liam was right there and-“

“Harry it’s alright.” I murmur, pulling him in closer to me.

“You shouldn’t have had to see that.” He breathes. “I hate him, Lou, really. I can’t even explain it but…I just do.”

“I understand.”

I can definitely see where he’s coming from. After all, all he knows about Liam is what I’ve told him, and excluding what I told him about yesterday, it’s all been negative.

After a few moments, I break the silence.

“What are you making?”

He grins. “Pancakes.”

I can’t deny that it smells delicious. With a quick smile I sit at the barstool at the island, facing Harry as he flips over the golden cakes.

Throughout the breakfast, however wonderful it was, I can’t shale this feeling that Harry’s not telling me something. That he’s really only saying what I want to hear, rather than what actually needs to be said.

“Harry?” I press,

“Yeah?”

“What are you thinking?”

He sets both of our plates in the sink and turns his back to me. “Don’t get to comfortable with Liam.”

“What?” I spit out. He doesn’t honestly think…

“I don’t get a good vibe off of this guy, Louis. Something’s not right with him. I mean come on. The guy runs you over and tries to kill you, and now he wants to be best friends. It doesn’t add up. That’s all.”

“Harry are you jealous?”

He doesn’t respond.

He does honestly think I’m into Liam.

“I had hoped you wouldn’t think that.” I confess, slipping over to him.

“But Lou…” he adds, “You don’t…like him? Do you?”

“No!” I exasperate, my arms slip over his shoulders and I lay my head against his back. “It’s you, Harry. It’s only you.”

I feel his hand slip over mine, and he gives it a gentle squeeze before turning his head and pecking my lips.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

I haven’t the slightest ideas as to how long we actually stayed there, but I eventually moved away from him, running water over the dirty dishes.

“You know, the whole time I was talking to Liam I was wondering what you were going to think about him. He seems to have grown up a bit, he has.”

Without a word he takes my hand and pulls me along behind him.

“Come on we’re going to be late.” He mutters, dragging me out the door.