Can I dip? | Larry Stylinson

S e v e n t y - o n e

He Doesn't Care Anymore

Louis slowly retreats back to his seat, raising his brows. He opens his mouth to speak, but Harry cuts him off.

"I am sorry." He says, sighing and looking up at him with tension filled eyes. "That was way out of line—quite weird too. I would never do that on purpose, but then—I-"

Harry stutters, tapping the table with his fingers and avoiding eye contact. Louis nods his head, signaling him to continue. "And?"

Harry purses his lips and reddens again. "Fine, okay? It was all on purpose. I-I saw you win the game, and you were walking side by side with this—this chick." He calmly speaks, still avoiding eye contact. "But it was—I was already looking for the toilet at that point, and I did not mean it which—" Harry widens his eyes, "which definitely means that it was—indeed—uh—not on purpose—after all."

"Look, Harry. To be frank, I really...really—"

Harry's heart starts beating fast. He secretly hopes that it's another one of those love speeches that Louis usually says to prove that he's clearly better than any man in Harry's love life. I mean—Harry obviously did follow them on purpose. It would OBVIOUSLY mean that he cares. Louis is obviously gonna be flattered.

"I really don't care."

Harry squints his eyes. Wait what. Louis takes a bite of his muffin and shrugs.

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Louis smiles tightly, looking at his moist muffin. Harry nods with disappointment.

"If you want, I can even forget that it even happened—which I already did...before you even mentioned it today."

"Oh." Harry blurts out. That's all he could say. Louis doesn't care anymore. All Harry could think about is....Why?

Harry shakes his head slowly while staring at the table like a mad man. Has he gone crazy? Why the hell does he even care? Why does Harry want Louis's attention? He's not even supposed to be wanting that in the first place.

Fuck, he's in such a bad place right now.

"Hey, mate. You okay?" Louis asks, waving his hand in front of Harry.

Harry looks back at him.

Mate. Mate?

That's gross, Harry thinks.

Wait, what? No. That's what friends call each other. Mates. Buds. Pals. Fuck.

"I—I think I have to go." Harry slides out of the booth, standing up and briefly taking a look of Louis. "Ooh—leaving too soon?" Louis questions, motioning to Harry's leftovers.

Harry waves awkwardly.

As Harry walks out of the cafe, he thinks about how he seriously has to get his shit together and think things through. He needs to talk to somebody—or just—make a breakthrough.

Fuck, can life just be simple for once?