Friday
Louis
“Are you sure we should do this again, Lou? I mean I thought you were trying to reform.” Zayn calls from the living room.
Louis is in the kitchen unpacking the bags of alcohol and various snacks he bought at the convenience store in town. “I know, I know. I’ll reform tomorrow. Just one more party.” He responds. They have a medium sized crowd of friends and acquaintances who love their parties and always come back.
Louis knows he shouldn’t when he has promised himself not to get out of control. But he could not resist when he saw that adorable boy with Liam at the Grille. He had invited Liam and told him to bring Harry. He had completely embarrassed himself that afternoon and he needed a chance to make it right.
“It’s your fault!” he had told Zayn the day after. “It was your idea to go get trashed on the first day of classes.” It had, in fact been Louis’ idea to go to the Grille and play pool, drinking beer after beer, although Zayn had found it quite amusing.
Harry
Harry had gotten through the first week of classes and he could not be happier that he would be able to sleep in for the next two days. All he wanted to do really was curl up in his little room and sleep. He didn’t want to have to worry about interacting with anyone else. But he had agreed to go to the party tonight with Liam so his plan would have to wait until tomorrow.
He liked Liam. They got along easily even though Harry in his current state was just a shell of himself at best. He would make the best of tonight and maybe meet some more people. He knew he should try even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.
So it was later that night, after showering and changing into his tight jeans and a plain t-shirt, that Harry hears Liam knocking on his door to pick him up for the party.
“Hey! Excited?” Liam is smiling, clearly psyched for the night.
“I guess, yeah.” Harry puts in his best effort to sound happy.
They headed towards Louis and Zayn’s apartment, Liam leading the way with a bounce in his step.
Harry thinks he might as well take this opportunity to satisfy his curiosity and learn about the guy who stayed on his mind all week. “So what’s the deal with Louis? Is he always drunk on Monday afternoons?”
Liam chuckles. “No, no, he’s a bit of a partier but he’s a good guy. Hilarious too.”
Harry imagines Louis making jokes, making people laugh. He feels a rush thinking that he will soon be inside the intriguing man’s house. He has been confused all week by his feelings towards Louis. He wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to him and why all he wanted to do was try to figure him out. He wants to know this stranger for some inexplicable reason.
They get to the tiny, white house with its chain-link-fenced front yard. It is already full of people standing around in groups with cups, talking noisily. There is music blaring from inside, some rap song Harry’s never heard.
Inside, the lights are on and the main room is full. Aside from a couch where a few people sit, there is no furniture. He and Liam get beers from the kitchen and Liam introduces him to a group of guys he knows. Harry is having a good time, despite the fact that he hasn’t caught sight of Louis, until his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out to look at the caller ID.
It’s his mom. It is five in the morning in Holmes Chapel and she shouldn’t be calling. A wave of panic takes him over. He rushes up the stairs, looking for a quieter place. He goes through the first doorway he sees into a dimly lit bedroom and answers.
“What’s wrong mom?”
“Harry. It’s Gemma. I don’t know what to do. She’s was driving and a drunk guy hit her and… I don’t know if she’s going to be OK.” He can hear her voice shaking, she has obviously been crying.
“What’d you mean? Is she in the hospital? What are they saying?” Harry can’t understand what is going on. His hands are shaking as he paces the room. Usually he is the one to help his mom in this type of situation. He calms her down and comforts her. He wishes he could be there by her side.
His mom explains that she got a call a couple of hours ago and rushed to the hospital. Gemma had been driving home from a night out when a drunk driver had run a red light and crashed into the side of her car. She was brought into surgery and Anne was waiting to hear.
Harry is dazed as he says goodbye and tells her to call if she finds anything out. He stands by the window, his arms hugging his body tightly as tears start to stream down his face. He needs to be home now. His body feels a physical pull to be with his family. His mom is alone and scared and Gemma might not make it and he can’t believe that he can’t be there.
Harry hears a rustling by the door of the room.
“Hey, this is my room what’re you-” Louis stops when Harry turns and he sees his pale, tear stricken face in the moonlight. “Are you OK?” He steps cautiously towards the boy.
Harry can’t bring himself to say anything. He just looks at Louis. The concern is evident on his face, and somewhere in his eyes, Harry can see he really does care. He feels relieved not to be alone. He shakes his head and shrugs.
Louis
He is shocked to find the cute boy from the other day in his room. But the only thing more surprising is that he’s crying. Louis is glad he didn’t get drunk yet tonight or he would not be very good at dealing with this.
He can see that Harry is freaked out. There is no embarrassment there or attempt to cover up his tears. Louis can tell something is really wrong. Liam had told him that Harry was a bit lonely but this is something more. Louis feels a pang of sadness for this vulnerable and raw seemingly lost boy.
He takes a step towards him, wanting nothing more that to pull him close and make whatever it is that has upset him go away. But he settles for a hand on his shoulder. “What is it? Can I help?”
Harry takes a shaky breath and sniffs. “I…” his voice waivers, husky but weak from crying. “It’s my mom. My sister. She’s been in an accident… I- I don’t know if…” He trails off. Can’t bring himself to say it out loud. “I’m waiting to hear.”
Louis rubs his shoulder reassuringly. “Oh I’m so sorry. It’ll be alright though, ya?” He looks at Harry’s big watery green eyes. He looks so sad Louis can’t imagine leaving the poor boy alone. “Do you want me to wait with you?”
Harry looks into his eyes. He hesitates for a moment before nodding. “I’d really like that.”
So they wait. For hours they sit, and eventually lie, on the bed. Harry tells him about his family and his home. Louis tells him in return about his mom and five little sisters and his hometown. He makes him laugh- trying to distract him from the news he is waiting for.
The conversation flows between them effortlessly. Harry, having already been exposed in his vulnerable state, opens up to Louis. He tells him how alone he’s been and how much, especially now, he just wishes he was home. Louis does his best to comfort him and make him more at ease. He developes a soft spot for the younger boy and his innocent eyes that show so much.
It’s sunrise when Harry’s phone buzzes again. The two boys have been lying side by side in silence for a while, almost nodding off. He answers it and listens to his mom on the other end for a while.
Louis can’t hear what she is saying as he sits next to harry in his bed. He looks at the way the pale morning light streaks through the window and glows on Harry’s face. The entire room is drenched in the light yellow sunlight, creating a magical effect. It frames Harry's shaggy curls and porcelin skin in a yellow outline. What a beautiful boy, Louis thinks.
When harry gets off the phone he quickly conveys the news to Louis. Gemma is going to be fine. She has three broken ribs and a collapsed lung. They had to bring her into emergency surgery for the lung but now she is conscious and doing OK. The relief is evident on Harry’s face as new tears, this time happy ones, spring to his eyes.
“I’m so glad she’s OK Harry.” And it’s true. After spending this time with Harry and hearing stories about his sister when they were kids, Louis genuinely cares about this girl he has never laid eyes on.
He leans over and pulls Harry into a tight hug. He feels the muscles in Harry’s back and can’t help the butterflies in his stomach at their contact.
