"Lovely"

Part Thirty Seven (Louis)

a/n - buckle your seatbelts motherfuckers becasuse shits about to get real (for the rest of the story. Lots coming very soon... ;)  xx 

Part Thirty Seven (Louis)

   Sitting with Liam felt like something out of a dream. I mean, of course Liam had nothing on Harry, but it wasn’t Liam himself that attracted me. It was his sense of understanding that Harry lacked. Where Harry would just argue and try to justify himself on something ridiculous, Liam was just calm and accepting, and he always did his best to understand what I was feeling, no matter how absurd my words were. It was so nice to have someone that would sit and listen to what I was saying instead of just waiting for his turn to talk. Don’t get me wrong I really like Harry, but he’s got a few things I’d appreciate more effort towards. Listening skills at the top of that list.

  Walking home now, I almost dread having to face Harry. If, he had said earlier, If I come out.  Clearly he doesn’t care about me enough to do it. It doesn’t really change anything, it would just mean that we wouldn’t have to be sneaking around all the time, which would be nice. I’m not going to like him any less, if anything coming out would make me like him more. We could like each other in public! How nice would that be? I just want to be with him without having to hide.

I thought he knew that.

I thought he understood that.

Apparently I was wrong.

  ~~

The walk home seemed far shorter than the fifteen minutes that it usually is. Maybe it was because I just didn’t want to be at home just yet, but I guess I would never know. However just as I approach the house, something catches my eye.

It’s Harry, out on the front steps.

“What do you want Harry?” I snap, trying to avoid a confrontation.

“Lou,” he sighs, reaching for my hand, only for me to pull away. “Lou, I just want to talk.”

“I can’t right now Harry. I need time.”

“Time?” Harry seems more shocked that I originally imagined he would be. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I turn to him, giving in and letting him grab onto my hand. “I don’t know, I just…I need to figure things out before I make a decision.”

I watch as Harry fights back the tears behind his eyes. I don’t have to say it, he knows exactly what I mean.

“How much time?” he stammers.

I run my fingers through my hair and look up at him. “Can I get back to you on that?”

I know in my heart how terrible of a thing this is to do to Harry, but I can’t give him an answer just yet. I know that I can’t be with someone who doesn’t care about me, and even though I thought Harry did, recent events support the notion that I was mistaken.

Harry nods and wipes his eyes off with his hand. “Alright. I’ll be here if you need anything Lou.”

He presses a long kiss to my forehead and pulls me in close to him before releasing me.

“Just know that I care about you, and I don’t want this to come between us.”

Harry turns and goes back into his house, and his door closes, I feel my heart break a little.

I needed Harry.

I needed him.

Though he had just left, it felt as though it was he leaving I, rather than the other way around. Why had I done that? I had said only what came to mind, without any sort of filtration to take his feelings into account.

You didn’t mean what you said, it was heat of the moment, he’ll come around.

…

Yes you did, selfish prick, you meant every word.

These sorts of arguments with myself were commonplace now, as I’d become accustomed to them when I started counselling for my anxiety a few years back. The counsellor, Doctor Abby, as she had called herself,  did absolutely nothing for me, other than convince me that every waking thought I had was incorrect, which in the end resulted in these miniature disagreements with my conscious mind. Thanks for that doctor, it was really necessary. She put me on all these different types of medication that, if taken even ten minutes late, resulted in my physical symptoms becoming about a hundred times worse than they were without anything at all. I remember one time, when I first went onto them, I took all of them about an hour late, and all day I couldn’t pick anything up because I was shaking so terribly. Couldn’t really talk either, but you know, the only people I can actually talk to without stuttering a whole lot are Dan, Dad and Harry.

And Liam.

Liam. Thinking about him made me smile almost the way thinking of Harry did. He had been so good to me about everything today, and so understanding. Why couldn’t Harry be more like that? I don’t know, coming out for me wasn’t as big of a deal as I made it out to be, but mind you, I only told my family and my one friend. I suppose everyone already knew in a way. Why was this so hard for Harry?

Harry.

Harry would never have done this to me. I just hurt him, and I hadn’t even given it a second though until I realized the actual context of my words. God I hate myself for that. For everything. I can’t fucking do anything right. I’d have to make this up to Harry somehow.

If we stay together.

If.

The very thought of leaving Harry made my already fractured heart tremble. I don’t think I could actually do it. I care about him too much.

He clearly doesn’t care about you.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? I mean, my only real condition of staying with Harry is that he needs to come out. I didn’t come out of the closet only to be with someone who was pulling me right back in. I care about Harry, but not enough to do that. That, to me, would be the ultimate display of no self-respect. A cosmic joke, identifying as homosexual, and telling people about it and accepting myself in spite of it, only to enter a relationship with another homosexual person who wants me to hide our togetherness from the world.

No.

That is not happening.

I just need to convince Harry to see that.