17BLACK

Chapter 55

Louis' POV:

Harry's hand rests on my thigh, rubbing little circles in my jeans as we push through traffic. It's especially bad today with the holidays.

I lean my head against the window as it begins to rain. Great. At least I can rely on London weather to be consistently shitty.

It doesn't help me get out of this funk either. Harry's hand does though, and I try focusing on that. The light movements soothe my cluttered thoughts. It's as if he can sense my unease and he squeezes my thigh in response.

He's wearing his ring today, the one with the dancing bears on it. The cold silver chills through my leg and I shiver. My own hand tugs at my version of the bear ring, my thumb running over the familiar smooth metal. I haven't taken the ring off since he's given it to me. It's already become a part of me, and in the rare moments I don't have it on I feel naked.

"Sometimes I wish I could read your mind." Harry's voice startles me. I move my head from the window, reaching down to pry Harry's hand from my leg and tuck it into my own. He squeezes my fingers between his.

I think back to last night on the roof. My own thoughts scare me. I was imagining death kissing my head, for crying out loud. Maybe I'm crazy. It would explain a lot. I wouldn't be surprised.

You'd be in tears if you could. "My problem is understanding it."

I chew on my lip, waiting for his response. Waiting to see how he dances around the subject.

It catches me off guard when he doesn't. Harry plows straight into the subject instead.

"What was different about last night?" The car stops behind a long line of traffic. Harry's eyes land on mine, his attention now fully on me.

"Come again?" I raise an eyebrow and trace over his ring.

"I could tell something different in you on the roof. You just seemed....broken. Even when Will had his breakdown and you got wasted, you weren't as bad. It was different. Why?" The car begins moving again.

Why was it different? To hell if I know. He probably knows better than I do.

I take a deep breath and try to remember to focus on Harry's hand in mine.

"It wasn't. But when you add everything up it makes it more drastic." We are enveloped in silence for a few minutes. I wish I could say that it wasn't an awkward silence.

It's interrupted by Harry's phone ringing. I'm reminded of his confusing call on the terrace. I never found out who called him.

I can just barely make out the voice coming from his phone as he answers. It's Aaron.

Harry puts the phone between his shoulder and cheek so he can still drive and hold my hand. Aaron sounds frantic, so it must be important. Or he's drunk.

Probably drunk.

Harry laughs. "Yeah, yeah okay. We don't have any plans but I don't think we can make it." He takes a quick glance over at me. "Hold on."

His words are directed to me.

"Aaron's throwing a New Years party and wants us to go." Hell no. The last time we went Harry left without me and I got high in Aaron's room. Nothing good ever comes from his parties.

I don't have to answer, because Harry sees my reaction.

"I wouldn't wait up for us." I feel his hand apply pressure to mine. I stare out of the window, watching the rain drops fall onto the glass and frantically try escaping. Stupid London weather.