fighting love » l.s.

eighteen - if we're not friends

Although Harry's day had been off to a pretty good start waking up with Louis, their encounter with Eleanor had put him in a mood. He sulked through the school day, mood spiraling further into despair with every hour that he didn't see Louis. Louis wasn't at lunch or in their class together, and Harry usually at least caught a glimpse of the boy down the hall, but he had no such luck today.

When the bell rang to signal the end of the day, Harry practically jumped out of his seat, hoping to catch Louis at his locker before the older boy left school. As he rushed out of the classroom, his body collided with someone else.

"Oops, I'm so sorry," Harry blurted out, heat rushing to his face as he scrambled to his feet and attempted to gather his scattered belongings. He finally looked up and was met with those familiar blue eyes. "Oh, hi."

"Hey," Louis replied, trying to contain his fond smile for the boy. "Can we talk?"

"Of course," Harry said quickly, following Louis as the older boy made his way through the crowded hallway. Louis glanced back every once in a while to make sure that Harry was still behind him.

They made their way out of the school and toward the football field. Harry plopped down in the grass, running his fingers over the soft blades. Louis sat quietly for a moment, content with just watching the curly haired boy enjoying himself.

And before the words had even left his lips, his heart had started to crack.

"Harry," Louis began carefully, already studying the boy's face for a reaction. Harry looked up at him immediately when he started talking, giving Louis his full attention. "You know you're my best mate, right?"

"Of course," Harry replied, furrowing his brows in confusion. "And you're mine."

"And that's not gonna change, no matter what," Louis said quickly, "but Eleanor doesn't like how much time we spend together."

"Why? That's what best friends do," he shrugged, searching Louis's face as he tried to understand where this was going. "Why would she be upset about it?"

"She just, um, thinks there's something more going on between us. And obviously there's not, but she's crazy about it. And I just don't know what else to do."

"What are you trying to say?" Harry asked. His stomach flipped nervously as he started to see where this conversation was headed.

"She doesn't want us to hang out anymore," Louis blurted out. His heart broke at the emotionless expression that swept over Harry's face.

Harry felt numb, frozen in place. "She doesn't want us to hang out anymore," he repeated almost silently, voice coming out in barely a whisper.

"Obviously I have to put her first, she's my girlfriend," Louis rambled, still trying to justify his actions in his own mind. "But I don't want to stop hanging out with you, hell, you're my best mate and I don't want to lose you."

Harry simply nodded in response, not knowing what to say. At this point this was about what Louis wanted, not him. No one wanted him and no one cared what he wanted. He was nothing but a figure in the background of Louis's life, getting pulled around on a string.

"So we can't hang out anymore, but I'll still call. I still want to talk to you, Haz -- we just can't let her know about it. And it'll just be for a while, I promise," Louis said. Harry simply stared as Louis's eyes desperately pleaded for a reply, a reaction, anything. "Please, Harry, just say something."

"Okay," he said, finally forcing a small smile. "I understand, Lou. Just call me as much as you can, yeah?"

"Of course. You know I can't go two days without talking to you," Louis grinned in response. He sighed heavily, relieved that Harry wasn't upset with him. 

Harry returned the blue-eyed boy's smile before dropping his gaze back down to the grass and letting the smile slip from his lips. Louis was so caught up in his own reprieve that he didn't notice Harry quietly whisper a hopeless, "Please."