R O O M 1 9 7 // Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson Edition

Fifteen

~Thursday 5th January 2017~

11:49 am

"Louis!" Mrs Tomlinson's voice is shrill, calling after her husband, as he dashes from the room, mumbling quick apologies in the direction of his wife. She crosses her arms against her chest, as the door of Room 197 clicks closed, leaving her alone.

Harry is a whole corridor's length in front of Louis, but that doesn't stop Louis from trying his hardest to catch up with his hurried strides. Harry wipes away dazed tears as he begins to descend the stairs, taking two steps at a time in an effort to put as much physical space between himself and Louis.
"Harry!" Louis calls after him, breaking into a run as he follows the young man, intent on catching him so they can talk. Talk about what - he doesn't know. There are no words.
"Will you just wait?! Let me explain!" Louis adds, shouting, no longer worrying about raising suspicion from other guests. His words seem to work, though - as Harry suddenly stops on the landing of the stairs and turns to face his counterpart, his cheeks red and his headache getting worse. Louis struggles to slow himself, and nearly crashes into Harry's body, as he stops.

"Explain what?!" Harry barks, angry, confused, hurt - his hands in the air. None of this - from the very beginning of it all - makes sense. A guest passes by them now, with her eyes cautiously glued onto the both of them, ascending the stairs quickly, as to get out of their way. Louis grabs Harry by the elbow and leads him to a hidden corner of the nearest corridor, not wanting this conversation public.

"I'm sorry." Louis mutters, his voice low and quiet, as he refuses to meet Harry's dark eyes.
"Bullshit." Harry responds straight away, rolling his eyes in a show of complete frustration. "You turn into someone else when you're around her." He adds, and Louis can't help but nod, knowing that Harry's words are nothing but the truth. He meets his eyes now, a pained expression distorting his face, as he looks up at Harry. "I thought you didn't love her." Harry speaks again, his voice a soft mumble.
"I don't." Louis answers, shaking his head, as the silver of his wedding ring continues to irritate his skin, turning it red. He twists the band around the curve of his finger, releasing some pressure, fighting the urge to just remove it altogether. "It's just difficult when she's...here. I..." Louis can't finish his sentence, instead letting his words trail off into the silence that lays before the two young men.
"How is it difficult? I don't understand." Harry exclaims, pausing for breath as another guest walks past, smiling politely as they go. "How can you say all these terrible things about her and then act like her puppy as soon as she's within ten metres of you? She's been here two minutes, and she's already changed you into someone else, someone that I don't know." Harry stops when he recognises the anguish in Louis' expression. The last thing Harry wants is for Louis to suffer through another anger attack - he hasn't had one in days.

Harry steps forward, pushing his hand up Louis' neck and into the curve of his cheek, pushing all his own pain aside, to comfort the man he has fallen for. Harry pulls Louis into him, and they embrace, the air between them something completely different to their usual playful passion. It's thick and cold now - neither knowing the right words, the right way to fix this.
"Why can't you just tell her that you're gay?" Harry asks, genuinely curious, still holding Louis tight against him. Louis removes his head from where it lays by Harry's collarbone, pushing away from his counterpart, and furrowing his eyebrows.
"I'm not gay." He answers, his tone failing to be sincere, as if he's trying to convince himself that these words are true. Harry scoffs as if it's a joke, but Louis' brows remain furrowed. Harry steps away from Louis further, assessing his face, and trying to decipher whether this is all just one big elaborate prank, scoffing again.

"Lou, that's bullshit. We both know that you're attracted to men." Harry points out, but Louis responds with another shake of the head. "You can't fall asleep with your arms wrapped around me and say that. You can't...moan my name late at night and say that. You can't look me in the eyes...and say that you are straight! It's all nonsense! I woke up this morning with your mouth on my neck, for God's sake!" Harry declares, remembering all the times Louis' mouth has been upon his skin in the last few days and refusing to believe that this is it. Louis shakes his head once more, before looking down at the floor, refusing to meet Harry's gaze.
Harry feels defeated, his shoulders loose, his arms dead weights by his side. In one last ditch effort to get through to Louis and make him see sense, he reaches forward again, placing both hands on either side of Louis' face, bringing him closer for a tender and reassuring kiss.