back for you ➳ l.s.

one - wait for me to come home

"Wait, Haz, is that . . . ?"

Harry glanced up from the sandwich he was making. Following his friend Niall's eyeline, he turned toward the door, the bell still ringing cheerily over the loud voices that filled the crowded diner. Standing in the doorway was the very last person Harry expected to see.

"Louis," Harry breathed. His heart had dropped to the floor. He thought he might throw up. Louis's blue eyes searched the room, and when they finally found Harry's green ones, Harry knew he was going to throw up.

"Harry, breathe." Niall's voice seemed to echo around him. He felt his friend's hand squeeze his arm lightly, but his touch felt far away, barely a whisper on his skin.

As the older boy started weaving his way around the tables toward the counter, Harry shook his head frantically. "Ni, I can't. I need to . . . no, I can't." He turned quickly and threw his body weight against the door that led to the kitchen, pushing through and slamming it behind him. The overwhelming chatter of the diner faded away, and Harry sank down onto the floor, burying his face in his knees.

It had been four years. Four long years. Why did he still feel this way? Why was the pain still as strong as it was the day Louis left?

Through the pounding in his head, he heard Niall's voice, muffled through the door. "Louis, you need to leave. Harry's really upset."

"Please, Niall. I need to see him. I need to talk to him."

"It's been four years, Louis. Why are you here? Why now?"

Harry blocked out their conversation, especially as he heard Niall's tone grow more aggressive. He was thankful to have a friend who would defend and protect him when he needed it, but he just couldn't handle listening to the two boys argue right now. Even if it was about him.

Especially if it was about him.

Harry shuddered, memories of the past four years and beyond flooding back to him. The mixing emotions of pure happiness and utter devastation made him feel even more nauseous. His fingertips dug harshly into his knees, a comforting sensory reminder that he was in this moment, not the past.

After Louis left, Harry had felt so broken. So empty inside. Louis had given him so much light, and then suddenly, Harry had found himself plunged into complete darkness.

He thought he had finally moved on, but just seeing those blue eyes again brought everything back.

Surprisingly, he didn't feel angry. Harry always thought that if Louis came back, he would tear his head off with no hesitation. He had gone through the imaginary argument in his head over and over again, mentally mapping out the million words he needed to say if he ever got the chance.

Now, that chance had finally come. And instead of feeling angry, Harry felt terrified.

If anything, he was embarrassed. All Louis had to do was walk into the diner, and he had completely fallen apart. He wouldn't be surprised if Louis had already left by now; after all, would he really have any reason to talk to a nervous wreck who could barely stand to look at him? After four years, it was unimaginably embarrassing that Louis still had this effect on him.

Even through the door, Niall's voice suddenly raised to the level that Harry couldn't block him out anymore. The two boys were on the other side having a full blown argument, while Harry hid behind a swinging door and his best friend.

The thought of Louis viewing him as weak brought Harry back to reality. He could do this. He had to do this.

He wasn't the same timid little boy he had been when Louis left, even if all it took was seeing the blue-eyed boy again once to bring that little boy back out of him. He was strong, and from this moment forward, he refused to let Louis see the effect he had on him.

Harry stood from the kitchen floor, using the wall behind him as support. He still felt a bit light-headed, so he sucked in a deep breath, letting the oxygen fill his lungs completely before he exhaled.

Then he fixed his hair, brushed off his shirt, and pushed back into the noisy dining room.

As soon as Harry pushed through the kitchen door, Louis froze mid-sentence. The boy was just as beautiful as Louis remembered, if not even more. His hair was longer, pushed back from his face with a red bandana. Louis wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through those loose curls again.

Harry couldn't bring himself to look at Louis. Not yet. He kept his eyes lowered as he took a few steps toward the other two boys. Louis had come around the counter -- probably Niall's idea, as much as the boy would've hated it, so that they wouldn't disturb the customers more than necessary -- but had stayed a few paces away from where Niall still stood by the cash register.

Harry immediately moved toward Niall, needing the comfort of being near his friend. He kept a good amount of distance between him and Louis.

Unable to tear his eyes from Harry, Louis opened his mouth to speak. His argument with Niall was already long forgotten, despite the heavy weight of Irish boy's protective glare still heating his face. When the words refused to come out, he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried again.

"Harry, I --"

"Wait," Harry said quietly. For the first time, he raised his gaze to lock eyes with Louis.

Louis shut up immediately, more surprised than anything at Harry's interruption. The sixteen-year-old boy he knew years before had been shy and reserved, always slow to speak as he ordered his thoughts before expressing them.

This Harry was definitely different; but in other ways, Louis could already see he was the same.

"If you want to talk, we can talk," Harry continued. Niall opened his mouth to protest, but Harry shut him up easily with a quick glance in his direction. "But not now. Niall and I are closing up in two hours. If you're willing to wait that long, then wait."

Louis nodded immediately, holding eye contact with the lovely boy standing tall in front of him. "I can wait," he said sincerely. He hoped that Harry could tell he meant it this time.