Bloodsport

chapter 33

When it was finally time to get downstairs and greet the family, Harry’s throat felt dry. His heart thrummed, fast and painful, but he was determined. He couldn’t go on much longer not speaking to his mother. He needed her to look at him, recognise the truth, and say something. Anything.

“Harry,” said Louis atop the stairs. The voices below seemed to stop him. He looked up at Harry, his blue eyes glistening with some kind of apprehension. Harry had never known Louis to be scared of anything.

“Louis, it’s cool,” he said, even though he didn’t feel entirely collected himself. “Just act like you’re my boyfriend and pretend we’ve been dating for ages.

He looked confused. “But we haven’t been dating for ages. Doesn’t anybody know that?”

The fact that Louis thought this couldn’t possibly work was a clear tell of how different their relationships with their parents were. Harry envied him. If he were close to his parents, he doubted anything like this evening would happen at all. He envied the fact that if Louis wanted, he could probably talk to his mother about his sexuality in the open, and not wonder whether he was pushing her away or not.

It was difficult to say the next words, and in the end, they felt testy in his mouth. “My Mum has seen us kiss once, and this was the second time she’s seen anything. I haven’t told her shit. Nobody knows anything.”

Louis’ eyes widened considerably. “Are you saying we’re about to give your family heart attacks?”

Harry hadn’t actually thought of it like that. Honestly, it was difficult to care much about the rest of his family when his mother behaved as she did. His goal was her, not everyone else. The aftermath of them thinking Louis was his close friend or boyfriend didn’t faze him. It was his mother’s true and raw feelings he sought.

He shook his head, Louis’ questions strangely frustrating. “Just be cool, Louis.” He touched his chest briefly and then tugged him down the stairs. He heard Louis mutter, “I hate you so much,” but he nonetheless followed him down.

Harry technically had four grandparents, but in truth he considered himself to have five. His mother’s parents had been married since their twenties, and Harry had since he was a child admired their headstrong relationship that was so full of love. From the outside, their long-lasting love seemed like a fairy tale, and when he was a child he believed every marriage was like theirs. It was naïve, considering the fact that his father’s parents were divorced. They had been separated for over twenty years, and Harry’s grandmother had remarried shortly after the fact. Barney, her husband, felt just as much like a grandfather as Harry’s dad’s actual father. The five of them, as much as they could, refused to miss a birthday, whether it was Harry’s or Gemma’s, or one of their cousins’.

When Harry landed on the main floor, his dad’s father, Gus Styles stood in the living room with Gemma, closest to the stairs. He instantly called out, and Harry, bringing Louis firmly with him knowing the guy was about to bolt out the room at first chance, was enveloped in his familiar arms. His grandfather smelled like earth and flowers. He had been a gardener most of his life and still had green fingers despite his age. As a kid, Harry had spent hours digging and dropping little seeds into pots, returning every few months to check the progress.

“Good to see you, my boy,” hummed his grandfather in his ear, and Harry felt a nostalgic yearning in his gut. He wanted to be a child again. Maybe then he could change something, and his future wouldn’t turn out like this.

He felt Louis’ arm under his fingers, sensing his trepidation as he pulled him around the room, keeping him in his proximity as he quickly made sure to hug each and every one of them. He swallowed as he spotted his mum, standing next to his grandmother, Evie Selley.