Foto bij • 12.4 ~ Here for you

Part 4

The next day, after everyone has had a bit of a lie in and some breakfast, Louis’ heading upstairs to take a shower when he hears a quiet murmuring coming from inside his bedroom door at the end of the hall. Louis knows it’s Harry, his phone had started ringing halfway through breakfast and he’d excused himself with an `Oh! It’s my mum- back in a minute, just gonna take this upstairs,” a happy sort of smile on his face as he dashed up to Louis’ room. So, obviously, Louis knew who was in his room and why and of course, knew that the conversation was clearly supposed to be between just Harry and his mum, and that Harry must have wanted a bit of privacy, otherwise he would have had it at the table. But call it general curiosity or just plain nosiness, Louis couldn’t really help but linger outside the door while choosing a towel from the airing cupboard at the end of the hall. The door to his bedroom is ajar just a bit, and from what Louis can make out from his awkward position, Harry is lying on the bed, legs crossed with his phone to his ear, his other hand twirling lazily at his hair. Louis watches as Harry laughs quietly at something his mum says, before his face falls just a little bit. There’s obviously been a topic change, judging from Harry’s behaviour. Harry brings his hand up to his mouth and chews nervously at the skin on the side of his finger, brow furrowed.
      “No, I know you don’t think-” Harry begins frustratedly, obviously interrupting his mum in the middle of whatever she’s saying, “I’m doing a favor for a friend, that’s it. It’s not-” Louis takes in a sharp breath, hands gripping the door of the cupboard tightly. He’s pretty sure they’re talking about him, now. Harry must have actually told his mum what he was going to be spending his Easter doing
      “No, mum. It’s going fine, I promise,” Harry sighs, it sounds like this is something that’s been discussed before. “His family are lovely, and all we’ve been doing is- no! God, of course he’s not taking advantage of me mum, he didn’t even really want me to do this, if you must know-” Harry stops himself, before bringing a hand up and passing it over his face, smoothing his brow and heaving another heavy sigh, evidently fed up with the discussion. “Look, mum, we’re obviously not gonna agree on this, yeah? So just enjoy the rest of your holiday and I’ll see you soon. I promise everything is okay here, yeah? I’m not stupid. I know what I’m doing. Love you, tell Gems and Robin and everyone I say hi, okay? Okay, bye - bye. Love you too.” Oh. Shit. Harry ends the call and throws the phone down on the bed beside him, letting out one big sigh and resting his head back on the pillow, eyes closed. Louis realises, almost too late, that he’s still stood watching Harry from beside the airing cupboard through a crack in the door like a fucking weirdo, and that he’d better get a move on before Harry comes out of the room to head back downstairs and catches him, Louis doesn’t much fancy having to bullshit an explanation to Harry for why he was standing there in the first place. So he grabs a towel and heads down the hall towards the bathroom, turning on the shower, his head buzzing back and forth. Louis stands under the boiling spray of the water for God knows how long, the phrase `taking advantage´ echoing round and round in his brain like he’s in some kind of dramatic, indie film and he’s the emotionally conflicted protagonist. Except, this isn’t some dramatic indie film, and actually, all of this is making him feel a bit sick, stomach turning as the water streams over his face. Because, really, when it comes right down to it, that’s what he’s done. He’s taken advantage of Harry. He’s taken advantage of his kindness, his willingness, his sincerity. Louis feels like he’s going to be sick, almost, his hands clenched tightly by his sides. He’s been using Harry as some kind of prop in this imaginary life that he’s presenting to his mum, like that’s a normal thing that most sane people do. Like that’s a common thing that happens like there’s nothing absolutely and completely fucked up about it. Louis understands how Harry’s mum feels, honestly. If Harry had told him he was going to go and stay with some, essentially, random person’s family for a week and pretend to be that person’s completely loved-up, committed boyfriend, Louis would've probably told him to go and get his head checked, because honestly- Louis shakes his head in an attempt to shut his brain up, soaking wet hair flicking droplets of water everywhere. He knows what he has to do as he steps out of the shower and turns it off, steam billowing all around the tiny room. He has to tell Harry he’s sorry for dragging him into all of this, first of all, and then get him on the first train back to London. Far, far away from Louis and his stupid, stupid brain. Then, he needs to suck it up and sit down with his mum and tell her everything, no matter how excruciating it is and fuck, Louis thinks as he closes the door to his bedroom, who on earth knows how that conversation will go. Louis has a bit of a hysterical snort to himself as he finishes drying off and pulls on his jeans, imagining his mum’s face when he says `So! Harry was just pretending to be my boyfriend all along thanks to an elaborate plan I made up just to get you off my back. Thoughts?´ God. He’s so, so fucked.


As it turns out, Louis is not only really, really fucked, he’s also a really, really big cop-out. When he got downstairs after his shower, he half expected to march straight into the living room and just set his newly-born plan into motion, quick as that, with Harry hopefully heading home on the next available train and leaving Louis to deal with the absolute mess of a situation he was sure to be in with his mother. Instead, Louis had gotten down to the living room only to be stopped his in tracks, Harry having been sitting in the comfy armchair in the corner with one of the twins in his arms, fast asleep. Harry had made a `Shh’-ing´ motion towards Louis, the softest smile on his face as he leant down to brush his lips against either Ernie or Doris’ head. Louis had sighed from where he was standing in the door, moving further into the room as Harry beckoned him with a happy wave, accepting defeat. If he was going to do this, it wasn’t going to be then, he wasn’t a complete arsehole. Unfortunately, the opportunity never really presented it at any other time throughout the rest of the afternoon either, with Harry always doing something with one of the girls, or talking to Louis’ mum, or just doing something that meant Louis couldn’t bring it up, no matter how much he hovered around Harry throughout the day. Now, it’s ten to six in the evening, and Louis is finally catching a bit of a break. As it turns out, Phoebe and Daisy have a birthday party to go to, so Dan and Jay plan on dropping them off at the party and then heading to visit Louis’ grandparents with the babies for a couple of hours before going back to collect the older two. Lottie has plans with a group of mates to go to the cinema and watch a film and Fizzy’s off to one of her friend’s houses for a sleepover. So, finally, Harry and Louis are alone in the house for the first time all week and really, Louis couldn’t have asked for a better time to get everything out of the way and give Harry an opportunity to get ready to leave. Except, Louis actually finds it a lot more difficult to get up the nerve to say anything to Harry, his voice getting caught in his throat, his breathing erratic. Louis is well aware that he’s behaving strangely, knows Harry is beginning to notice too, small frowns appearing on his face every time Louis does something a little weird or out of the ordinary. They’ve just finished the takeaway they ordered in, Louis only managing to eat about a quarter of his plate, his stomach racked with nerves, when Harry suggests they watch a film. Louis agrees, and goes to sort out the DVD player once they’ve chosen a film. On his way back to the sofa, Louis notices Harry splayed out across the chair like he has been the past few nights that they’ve been sitting in the living room watching TV, his legs spread and arm resting along the top of the seat. Louis swallows, throat feeling unusually thick, and sits down in his usual seat, one leg folded up under him, his body taut. They get about twenty five minutes into The Avengers when Louis feels Harry’s weight shifting on the other side of the sofa, his legs spread out even wider before he leans back completely into the corner of the chair, pulling gently at the back of Louis’ t-shirt as if to tell him to lie down too, his back plastered to Harry’s chest the same way they’ve been doing all week long. Louis was expecting it, body tensed as soon as he felt Harry start to shift around. If it was yesterday, or the day before, or any other day, really, Louis would have went easily, no qualms at all. As he feels Harry pulling at the back his t-shirt, Louis springs off the sofa, not his best choice, by any means. He can sense Harry’s bewilderment before he even turns around to face him again, can see the exact face Harry’s making perfectly in his head. Louis bends down and picks up his empty glass that was on the floor as soon as he’s standing, turning to face Harry and brandishing it in front of him.
      “Just getting a drink! Mines is empty!” Louis says, maniacal smile on his face. He knows his voice is brushing on the hysterical side when he says, “Need anything? Drink? Something to eat? No?” if Harry’s face is anything to go by, his eyes and nose scrunched in what Louis’ presumes is confusion, brow furrowed.
      “Um no, thanks. I’m, um, I’m good,” Harry says, still eyeing Louis warily. “Glass is still half full. Want me to, d’you want me to pause the film while you’re gone?”
      “No no no, you keep watching, seen it a million times now anyways,” Louis calls with another hysterical laugh from the kitchen, pouring himself another drink of Coke and managing to slosh it all over the counter as he does. He curses to himself as he grabs some kitchen roll and cleans it up quickly,his hands are all jittery, and his chest feels tight. He needs to get himself together as if Harry doesn’t think he’s enough of a weirdo already. Louis really doesn’t need to go make it any worse for himself considering what he’s going to do. He whips out his phone and shoots a quick text off to Zayn before he heads back into the living room. Zayn’s always been the one Louis turns to no matter what, and Louis’ kind of been ignoring him all week with everything going on.

Louis: Gonna tell Harry he has to go home. I’m using him :/

He heads back into the living and perches himself on the edge of the sofa, well out of Harry’s reach. He doesn’t know if he can pull off another stunt like the last one and get away with it quite as easily. Harry shoots him a look as he watches Louis sit down, before huffing a defeated kind of sigh and turning back to the TV. Louis hunches his shoulders, already feeling like an absolute arse, when his phone buzzes in his hand, obviously a reply from Zayn.

Zayn: You jokin ?! After all this ur just gonna tell him to fuck off ?? U are a bit of a bastard tbh, Lou x

And then, about thirty seconds later.

Zayn: OK that was harsh, sorry ): u should do what u think is best man, i’m not ur mum u can make ur own decisions. just hope ur not making a mistake. be good lou, love u xx

Louis stares at the text on the screen. How can Zayn possibly think he’s making a mistake by trying to bloody fix this whole thing, Zayn, who was against the whole thing from the start! Louis is preoccupied, isn’t even bothering to pay any attention to the film anymore, too busy pondering over what to reply to Zayn that’ll be suitably pointed enough without actually telling him to fuck off, when he hears Harry calling him from the other end of the sofa.
      “Lou- Louis, oh my- Louis,” he hisses, sounding exasperated and not amused at all when Louis finally looks up from his phone, blinking dumbly across at him.
      “Been trying to call you for the past two minutes, you know,” Harry says with a huff. “Love being ignored, s’great, thanks.” He folds his arms over his chest and sticks his nose up, shifting around on the chair.
      “I didn’t- shit, I didn’t mean to, obviously,” Louis says quickly. “When do I ever ignore you, eh? Just trying to word a text right, that’s all.” He glances back at his phone, like that’s reason enough.
      “Mmm,” Harry says, glancing over at Louis. “You’ve been weird as fuck all day, Lou. You gonna tell me what’s wrong, then?” he asks, ever forward. “Like, is it something I’ve done, or-” he trails off, obviously waiting for Louis to elaborate. So. This is it then, is all Louis can think. You’re gonna go for it, tell him now, quick, like pulling off a plaster.
      “Okay. Fuck,” Louis begins, taking a deep and setting his phone down on the arm of the couch. Fuck Zayn and whatever he thinks, he has to do this.

Nou wat vinden jullie,
is het lief wat Harry voor Louis doet of gebruikt Louis Harry echt?
Het volgende stukje is het laatste stukje van deel 12,
het gaat zo snel allemaal

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  • kaleidoscoop


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