Chapter 15

94 3 3
                                    

Toska

(n.) a dull ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish

The first thing that comes to his mind when he sees the date is "it's Louis birthday in a week." Harry has been basically living with Niall who is being a better friend than he could ever ask for. He doesn't want to be alone. They're both out buying Christmas presents and Harry wants to go home because it's cold and it feels like it's going to snow. They're laden with bags and Niall can't seem to stop buying all of the food that the Christmas market has to offer. He sighs when Niall makes him stop again, this time to buy a mince pie and turns around looking at the stall behind him. His eyes widen and his feet have him walking towards it before he can stop himself. The table is filled with little glass jars of all colours but what amazes his him are the small bright lights coming from the jars. Moving closer he realises what they are. The jars contain fireflies. Each one captures a tiny bug holding a bright glow. At first he frowns, wasn't it the wrong time of year for fireflies. The colours of the jars meant that the light shone a different colour and it must admit, it was beautiful. Harry's chest tightens as one jar in particular catches his eye. His eyes find the woman behind the stall.

"The idea is that you buy one with your partner and you find a spot together to release it." She says. His eyes flicker back down to the one jar in particular. The glass jar is a darkish blue meaning you couldn't see the bug at all but the bright light coming from it could be seen as clear as anything against the dark glass. It looked like a star in the nights sky.

Before he even realises that he's moving, Harry is walking swiftly to where Niall had parked his car, the icy air whips his cheeks and he shuts his eyes trying to stop himself from thinking but you can't walk with your eyes shut so opens them, causing tears to fall down his cheek.

If things were different, he wouldn't have left Louis, if he wasn't such a fucking coward he would have told Louis that he loved him too. If he wasn't such an idiot he would be shopping for a birthday present for Louis because he needed to give him something special. If he hadn't fucked up he would have picked up and bought that firefly. On the 24th December he would have waited until it was dark, almost midnight, almost Christmas and then he would have taken Louis out into the garden. Sat on a blanket on the frozen ground, bundled up in coats and scarves and hats and he would have given him the firefly because it's the closest thing to a star that he has ever seen and he once promised Louis that he'd catch him a star. Louis would look at the firefly with complete awe because he thought things like that were beautiful and then he'd look at Harry with this look on his face of adoration and wonder that made Harry want to kiss him. They'd wait till it was exactly 12.00, midnight, Christmas Day, and then release the firefly together because although Harry had given him a star, they don't belong on earth.

When Niall finds him ten minutes later muttering a thank god because he didn't know where Harry had rushed off to, Harry is leaning against the car with his eyes shut.

"Haz you alright?" He asks with his mouthful but his eyes full of concern. Harry nods opening his eyes.

"Can you take me home please?" He asks and Niall nods putting the bags in the boot. Niall drops Harry at his flat checking that he was sure he would be ok on his own before leaving. Harry goes inside putting down his gifts. He has to speak to him, he can't not tell him Happy Birthday.

***

It's times like this when Louis really should check who's calling him before he answers. After scrambling in the pocket of his almost too tight skinny jeans he finds the ringing phone and presses green before holding it to his ear.

"Hello?" he answers. He doesn't get answer but instead an intake of breath and he freezes. Of course it would be him. Louis would be hanging up if he could think straight but that's just it, he can't think straight, one breath through the phone has got him frozen in place. Louis assumes that Harry is drunk. Harry never cries when he is sober and by the way his breaths come through the phone, shaky and uneven, with an occasional sniffle, Louis could tell he was crying. Even before he speaks.

To leave, afterall, was not the same as being leftWhere stories live. Discover now