Wonderwall

Louis' P.O.V

I decided to take the long route home, knowing exactly what Harry was thinking. I didn’t want him to feel that he won’t ever see me again, and considering that we’re in the band together, it’s just not possible to be away from him. I tried my best to take extra time and keep as calm and normal as possible. Every so often, I’d make an attempt at cracking a joke, then look over at Harry. His responses were weak, the most just being a half smile and a completely fake chuckle. I had literally just destroyed my best friend. After all the courage it took him to confess his feelings for me, and the reason why he’s been hurting himself, I’ve turned him down. I practically ripped his heart out of his chest and held it in his face for him to see. I felt like shit and really just wanted to get home now. I’m sure Harry felt the same.

 It was well past 1:00am when Harry and I finally arrived home. “Here we are!” I said while pulling into the driveway, trying my best to be my cheery self.

Apparently, Harry would have none of that. The sarcasm slapped me in the face as he said “Yeah, great, here we are. Home sweet home.” He opened the passenger side door and brutally slammed it behind him.

Sighing heavily, I opened my door and followed him. “What the fuck Harry!” I shouted at him as I walked up the path to the door. Instantly, I knew I shouldn’t have said that. He sharply turned around and glared at me. A fiery hate burned in his eyes as he raised his fist, much like he did earlier today. This time, I wouldn’t care if he hit me. He could beat me senseless and leave me there if that meant he’d save himself. “Go ahead, hit me!”

“Fuck you Louis!” And then he hit me hard right on the cheek. I stumbled back at the contact, spitting out some blood on the ground. My jaw was throbbing, my head spinning, but I tried to keep the tears from falling. He actually hit me. Harry was shaking as he talked down to me, “I’m so sick of your bullshit. You don’t know how to be serious at all! It’s all rainbows and sunshine for you and it’s pissing me off! You’re supposed to be the oldest, yet you’re acting like a kid. Learn how to have a fucking serious moment in your life without cracking jokes and being the cheery little bitch that you are, and then come talk to me...”  Harry’s expression softened slightly, I knew he didn’t mean it. He continued, sounding more upset than angry now. “God Louis, I poured my heart out to you and it’s like it went in one ear and out the other. I told you why I’m cutting myself and all you did was tell me you don’t feel the same. Do you have any idea how hard that was? I’d lie awake, every fucking night, because you’re all could think about. I hoped and prayed that you felt the same, you really made it seem like you did, but you turned me down so easily. Don’t you know how crushed I am? Then now you come up shouting at me for some stupid reason, not even being considerate of how I might be feeling. All you think about is yourself.”

I stared at the ground, not sure of how to respond to the boy. I held my throbbing cheek and nodded to the door, “Let’s go inside.”

Harry was clearly too pissed off to hang around and talk it out, and I really didn’t want to make it worse, so we both went our own ways. Harry went to his room and I went to mine. I finally had a chance to quietly think without any distractions. In a way, Harry was right. I may come off as selfish a lot, but I only do that to protect myself. I could’ve lied, saying I felt the same way, or I could’ve drove us home in an awkward silence, but I didn’t want either of those. Lying to Harry about how I feel would’ve drove him over the edge if he ever found out, and leaving him in silence gives him too much time to think.

The silence has the same effect on me too...

I lied down on my bed and instinctively held a pillow like I hold Harry when we sleep together. For a minute I lied there, relishing in the thoughts and memories that came to me. Lying like this, we would spend the hours of the night talking about everything and anything, enjoying the feeling of being so carefree and the presence of one another. Sometimes when Harry is asleep, I would play with his curly brown hair. It was always so soft to the touch. His tiny but muscular body would rise and fall as he breathed, and in those moments I knew, with him, I felt safe.

I got lost in my thoughts, almost scaring myself. Why did I just think all that? For so long, all my thoughts and memories of Harry seemed so innocent, free of any desire. I sat up and rubbed my temples. How come my thoughts on Harry changed so suddenly... was I starting to fall for him?

No, I couldn’t be falling for Harry. All this time – all the touches, the longing stares, the late night conversations – they were all just so normal to me. I’d grown so used to being close with Harry that I never stopped to analyze our relationship... er, friendship... whatever. This is too much to process in one night.

I got off the bed, changed into my pajamas, and made my way to the bathroom. Splashing some water on my face, I washed away the dirt and grime of the day and brushed my teeth. Looking in the mirror, I noticed a bruise forming on my cheek where Harry hit me. I traced the outline of it with my coarse fingertips, slightly wincing at the pain. I was still in shock that he had actually hit me. My hands started to tremble as I remembered every detail of it. The anger in his eyes honestly scared me, I’d never seen him like that before. His face was red and his were eyes glassy with tears. When his fist came in contact with my cheek, I remember feeling a sharp pain, not just in my face, but in my heart. I loved him dearly, and knowing that I got him angry enough to make him hit me was painful on its own.

Tears started to well in my eyes as I left the bathroom. I was still really confused on where my feelings for Harry stood, and I figured sleep and a hot cup of tea were the best answers. No more than 4 steps down the hall, I was stopped dead in my tracks. Across from me stood Harry. We stared at each other, each of us frozen to our spot. His eyes looked red like he’d been crying, yet he wouldn’t lift his gaze off me. He shook a bit, causing his hair to fall perfectly around his pale face. My heartbeat quickened as he licked at his pump lips, my eyes clearly set on them. He slowly dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, biting slightly, and I noticed his eyes flicked down to my lips. I knew what he wanted.

The tension between us was heavy and all logical reasoning started to leave my mind. I mirrored Harry as I slowly sucked in my lip. I was drunk off Harry; his damn curls and beautiful eyes had the better of me. I couldn’t control myself. It was like he manipulated me and I was his puppet. He had full control over my body. I love you, I love you, I love you rang in my ears and I found myself lunging towards him.

Our bodies were inches apart, our gazes still locked. I could hear Harry’s heartbeat and I watched him swallow thickly. We both wanted it now. “Fuck it.” I whispered before crashing my lips against his. He stumbled back a bit, but quickly regained his posture towering over me. Our hands scrambled over one another to feel every inch of the other, trying to find something to grab. Harry laced his fingers through my hair, sending chills down my spine as our lips worked together. He pressed his smaller body into mine, pushing me against the wall.

I ran my hands all over Harry’s torso, looped my fingers through his belt loop and pulled him closer to me. My tongue licked at his lips, and God he tasted good. Our tongues came in contact for the first time and a strange sensation ran through my body. Fireworks, perhaps? I continued to kiss Harry, searching every inch of his mouth. His hot velvet tongue felt like heaven against mine and I wanted more of him.

A strange feeling grew my heart, and at that moment, I realized I was in love.

I had fallen for my best friend, Harry Styles.