It hit me like a lightning bolt

"Want to go back inside?" Louis asks him.

No, Harry doesn't. He wants Louis to take his hand and pull him out of here. Maybe to his used, run-down car, where they would get inside and start driving to some unknown destination. Go nowhere and at the same time everywhere, with the windows rolled down and music drifting through the air, getting entangled in their wind-ruffled hair.

And then they would kiss and it would feel like freedom and childhood and growing up and shared memories and everything that is sweet in the world.

Or Louis would stop the car, hold out his hand with a smile, and ask, "Hey, Hazza. Wanna dance with me?"

In his imagination, Harry takes his hand, palm against palm, fingers slotting into place like puzzle pieces. The thought of dancing with Louis sends an ache through his chest.

But instead, he just gives Louis, his Lou, a small smile and says, "Yeah, sure.

Or the one in which Harry realises he is in love with his best friend which might just destroy (and possibly save) everything.