We're Okay

Chapter 7

Louis

He seriously considered cancelling on Harry, he really did. New Years Eve was a busy day, especially for him. He’d been invited to any important party that was being thrown; he had Eleanor breathing down his neck to come with her to one of them. And then there were the tickets from his parents, burning a figurative hole in his pocket.

He should have given El one of the tickets, he knew. They included a bus trip to London, too, not just access to the party. And, Louis’ parents had rented a hotel room for them for the night, so they could take the bus back in the morning.

Except the closer it got to New Years Eve, the less Louis wanted to cancel. Sure, he’d called on Harry in a moment of pathetic desperation, for reasons he still didn’t understand. That didn’t mean that it wouldn’t be a fun night. And, really, he and Harry could be considered friends, right? Friends could spend the first minutes of the new year together. It wasn’t like it was valentines day, for Christ’s sake. It was completely innocent.

So, when he woke up at about nine on New Years Eve with a text from Harry that just had a street name and a house number listed, Louis bit his lip and swung out of bed. He didn’t know what to wear. Did he dress up? Or did he wear something fit to run in, just in case? This was, after all, Harry. God only knew what the hell that boy had planned. Louis was just grateful that he was getting a chance to find out.

He ended up wearing his red skinny jeans and a tight black t-shirt. Nothing too out there, but also nothing too conservative, either. And he could run in the skinny jeans. Possibly.

At the last second he grabbed the tickets from his parents and shoved them into his back pocket, just in case. Harry might not have anything planned at all, and then at least Louis would have something for them to do, instead of just stay home, which would be too painfully pathetic for Louis to handle.

On the drive to Harry’s he played the mixed CD Harry had made for him. The songs were all great, and he wondered, confusedly, how the hell Harry managed to do that. He’d never heard Louis listen to music, had never asked what artists he liked. And yes, the CD did lack songs from literally all of his favourite artists, but he still found himself loving and singing along with each of them after they got stuck in his head and he memorized the lyrics.

When he pulled up in front of what must have been Harry’s house, Louis realized that he very well could be meeting Harry’s mother, and that made him feel weirdly nervous. He checked his hair in the mirror quickly, moving a strand that was out of place back into its proper spot, and then he sucked in a deep breath and headed up the walk of the small but comfortable looking home.

When the door opened, he didn’t expect to see a dishevelled looking Niall, wearing nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants, hair a mess, eyes nearly closed with sleep.

Niall slowly realized who he was staring at, and then his eyes opened a bit more. “Louis?” he asked, frowning. “You realize it’s an ungodly hour, right?”

“It’s twelve in the afternoon.”

“Oh,” Niall raised his eyebrows. “Huh.”