when harry wrote If I Could Fly, lou was in the other room.
no one knew louis was in LA with harry, but then, no one ever knew anything about them anymore. that was sort of the whole point.
at any rate, harry was sitting in bed gnawing on his lip when the idea came to him. louis had just been telling him about this song "Home" he was trying to finish writing, and harry had given his two cents on it. as a friend. because that's all they are.
friends.
harry swiftly grabbed the horrid old notebook he had practically graffitied over the years and turned to the first available blank page. somewhere near the end. he wrote the date at the top of the page and then sighed.
louis had broken up with him about a year ago now. for the second time. harry couldn't have been more happy when lou said he'd come stay with him in california for a while, a part of him hoping that they'd be able to fix whatever was broken. it doesn't look like anything like that is going to happen.
louis just talks about music and football and stays in all day because no one can know he's there. because that's how the rumors start. the rumors that got them in this mess in the first place.
since louis' latest music endeavors is all harry has to go on, he winds up just writing the word "home" under the date. just a reminder of something he sees in louis. something louis must have forgotten.
louis is leaving tomorrow. back to england. he needs to finish that song with liam and they don't like writing over the phone. so he's leaving again.
"if only i could fly," harry mumbles, staring at the blank page, trying not to let the fear and sadness well up in his stomach like it always does when louis goes away.
but, hey, that's not a bad idea.
"if i could fly..." he whispers, writing messily in the book, "i'd be going right back home with you."
no, that's not right.
"i'd be coming right back home to you."
his teeth find their way back to his lip just then and he bites down, keeping his emotions in check.
what else?
he thinks about everything. about louis. about what they were before all louis was to him was inspiration for his saddest songs. before that... what was louis?
everything. home.
"i think i might give up everything, just ask me to."
the last time harry brought up their relationship was when they were still on tour. right before Zayn left.
they were stumbling down the hallway of a hotel together, still riding the high of their performance and whatever alcohol they'd consumed in the wake of it. harry had tripped over his own feet and knocked into louis, landing them both against the wall, pressed against each other. harry didn't think much of it in that exact moment, but louis had swiftly wriggled away from him and continued down the hall without so much as a smile.
harry had followed slightly desperately because louis was never like that with him. never.
"did i do something, lou?"
and louis didn't respond so harry continued to follow him.
"louis what happened?"
"go to bed, harry," was all louis said.
harry stood stock still and watched louis fumble around for his room key. room 928. funny.
"louis-"
