Again

"You're still afraid what people will think about you," Harry says, calm but voice shaking. It's not even a question. "You want us to be free? You want to hold me in the public?" He inhales deeply, "Then why the hell freak out when they call you gay? It is not an insult, Louis. That is you and you should accept that before you told me you love me."

He bites his lower lip and raises his hand to touch Harry's arm, but the young man steps back. Louis looks at him with frantic eyes, like he got burned.

"You love me?" Harry repeats.. asks, breathless.

"I do," he gulps.

"Then act like you do."

That's the last thing he heard from him until he dashes out of the room, slamming the door shut too hard that the frames nearby rattle. Louis rubs a hand over his face as he exhales a broken hiccup. He walks towards the bed with his jelly knees and slumps on it. He digs his elbows in his thighs as he tugs his hair in frustration.

"You're so fucked up, Tomlinson."