Not Again? || l.s

s i x t e e n

sixteen | one moment

Oh today I'm just a drop of water
And I'm running down a mountainside
Come tomorrow I'll be in the ocean
I'll be rising with the morning tide

~ 'start of time' by gabrielle aplin

ツ

"We were joking, Harry!" Dan cracked up. "No one actually expected you to do all that."

"We thought you'd realise," Lisa added, the only one who looked a little guilty. "Didn't think you'd actually attempt it."

Harry blinked at them. "W-What?"

"We have until next weekend," Lisa explained. "You realise that, right? Yesterday we were all just exchanging numbers, really. Talking about the outline of what we were going to do. No one's started anything yet. Today's meeting was going to focus on distributing the research work, and then Tuesday we're all going to meet up and pile it together."

Harry was stunned, "What? But I— I was up until four because—"

"Shit, he really did! He actually tried to do it", someone exclaimed, a hint of amazement in their voice.

Slowly, Harry collapsed in a seat. The other three continued laughing at his expense, but Lisa patted his shoulder and gave him a wide-eyed, apologetic look. 

"It was just a joke," she said. "Sorry if we took it too far."

But they didn't seem all that sorry, really. Harry was just too fucking exhausted to get upset over it. So instead he sunk lower in his chair and tried to pay attention to everything they said. And as soon as he could, he left, not saying goodbye to any of them. Assholes.

It wasn't until he's back in his room, shutting his door behind himself that he broke down. He made it to the bed, dropping his bag in the middle of the room as he went, and then collapsed onto it. He buried his head in his hands and tried to school the burning in his eyes, the lump in his throat. Fuck, he felt like an idiot. Or maybe he was just so overtired that he's getting emotional. That happened, sometimes, but it didn't really matter why it's happening. What matters was that it was happening. 

He's crying.

"Harry."

"Not right now, Louis," Harry pleaded. "Just— make fun of me later, okay?"

Harry's bed dipped, and the next thing he knew, gentle hands are rubbing circles against his back. That only made it harder not to cry.

"What happened?" came a soft voice.

He had no idea why he did it, but he found himself uncovering his face and answering the question. 

"They just— they made me feel like an idiot", Harry's voice cracked.

Louis' expression smoothed out into an indifferent one. 

"Not fun when that happens, huh?"

Now, Harry's eyes were wet and red, his voice was thick with repressed tears, and guilt churned his stomach, "Louis, I'm—"

"Don't apologize when you don't mean it," Louis said roughly as he got off the bed, and Harry shivered, wishing those hands were still rubbing his back. "I have to— I need to go."

"Go where?"

"Anywhere but here," Louis says, barely audible before he left the room.

Harry stared at the closed door, trying to sort out how he felt. But he couldn't, and he's too tired, so he pulled his blankets in around him and prayed for sleep to come before he could dwell on everything that's happened today.