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He stares at the neatly printed invitation; a mockery. It’s with a startling irony that Harry realises that this is it. This is the moment where the volcano erupts, where the earth swallows the ocean only to spit it back up, where the storm builds and builds till it can’t hold itself together anymore.
And he feels every bit of it, boiling at the depths.
He stares at the cursive lettering. The words calmly carve themselves across the skin over his heart. Brian Smith and Louis Tomlinson. It even has a fucking red heart in the corner. He wants to throw it in the garbage. But Louis doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how Harry feels. And Harry can’t turn up at the engagement party without the invitation.
He stares at the invitation till the back of his eyes prickle and his vision turns blurry. He runs his fingers around the edges of the card hoping it’ll give his fingers paper cuts. Maybe he can focus on that pain instead.
For years he has constantly wondered how it would end, and this is it, this is how he’s going to lose Louis--to another man. Louis’ going to marry another man and find a bigger home and have a family. Louis is going to share every moment of his life with Brian. Brian is going to love Louis and take care of him and make him the happiest person. And Harry wonders if Louis is happy, wonders if Brian makes Louis want to soar, makes him feel like he has everything in the world. Because that’s how Louis makes Harry feel.
Harry should be happy. He should be overjoyed that Louis has found someone who means so much to him, whom he wants to share his life with. Except, Harry has met Brian and has never taken to liking him. Maybe it’s the jealousy. He can’t find it in himself to be happy. Louis deserves the best and the best isn’t Brian. Harry doesn’t think it’s him either but they’ve known each other for almost seven years and he has been pining for Louis for half of that and he keeps hoping that there’s something between them that’ll fit.
If Louis marries this bloke, Harry is never going to get a chance to talk to Louis about how he feels. In fact Harry is never going to even have the chance to even try. Louis’ going to marry Brian at some point and that’ll be it. There won’t be a guarantee that Harry can try later, that there’s still time. All these years he has taken this time for granted and here he is, clutching his best friend’s engagement invitation with desperation reeking through him.
Harry isn’t ready to let Louis go. He’s not going to sit around and watch this happen without at least talking to Louis about his feelings. Louis deserves to know. Harry deserves closure no matter whether Louis reciprocates his feelings or not. If he doesn’t try, Harry will wonder about the lost opportunity for years to come.
Harry can already feel the tang of bitterness that will wash over him if he doesn’t do something before it’s too late.
Harry stands up with a renewed sense of determination and strides into his bedroom.
The person in the mirror doesn’t look like him. The scruffy beard, greasy hair and swollen eyes make him look like he has caught a sickness of some sort. Harry runs his fingers through his short hair, wincing at the oil that coats his fingers. He feels grimy and absolutely disgusting. It’s been two days since he received the invitation and it’s taken him this long to comprehend everything with the pace it’s moving at.
With a sigh, he takes one last glance at the invitation in his hands. It’s in two weeks. It can wait. He throws it onto the dressing table and trudges to the bathroom for a cold shower.
-
A week later, Harry’s marathoning films after a long day at the hospital. Head resting on Zayn’s lap, the two of them eat from the bowl of popcorn and barely keep their attention on the Lord Of The Rings.
“So have you picked a gaudy outfit yet?” Zayn cards his fingers through Harry’s short hair. He wants to bat Zayn’s hand away but the feeling is nice against his scalp.
“They’re just clothes. Stop insulting my choices.” He munches on a mouthful of popcorn as Zayn laughs.
“I’m pulling your leg. So, have you?”
“For what?” Harry shifts into a comfortable position and looks at Zayn. He can see up Zayn’s nose and Harry has half a mind to tell the lad that he needs a trim.
“For the engagement, you nutter. It’s in like a week, innit.”
Harry glances away and half-heartedly hums.
Zayn raps his knuckles against Harry’s head, making him wince. “What is it, Harry?”
“Nothing.” He waves a hand at Zayn and pretends to be extremely interested in the action scene in the film.
“It is something. Tell me. You know I’ll coax it out of you somehow.” Zayn sounds adamant and Harry knows Zayn eventually gets the truth out of him, always. He’ll stop at nothing to get answers.
With a sigh of resignation, Harry keeps his gaze fixed on the wall behind the telly as he replies. “I’m not going.”
“What?!” That might be the biggest reaction Zayn has ever had to anything Harry has ever said. It almost makes Harry want to smile except for the fact that Zayn’s words have an implication that makes his heart hurt. “Haz, what the fuck!! Why aren’t you going?”
Harry shrugs. “Busy.”
“I’m sure you can get leave from work. It’s your best friend’s engagement party.”
The envy sits on the tip of his tongue. Harry bites down on it in hopes that he won’t utter the hypocrisy that sits hollow in his chest. Zayn has urged him for years to come out with his feelings. He doesn’t need Zayn to say ‘I told you so’ now.
Zayn moves, dislodging Harry off his lap, which forces Harry to sit up and actually face the dark haired man. Harry runs his own had over his three-day-old stubble and wonders how Zayn manages to keep his looking so trim and neat. It’s some kind of godly power that Zayn looks like a model even on his worst days.
“I don’t want to go.” Harry says.
“Why?” Zayn looks at him with furrowed eyebrows.
Harry takes a moment, intently studying Zayn before saying anything. “I just—“ He scratches at the side of his neck, catches his finger on the necklace and winces. He can’t help but look down at the airplane pendant that hangs over his jumper like a reminder, a constant imagery of his and Louis’ friendship. He plays with the pendant, twisting and turning it around his fingers. He finds Zayn watching him and immediately lets go. “I just don’t want to.”
“You and I both know that’s a bullshit reason.” Zayn narrows his eyes.
Harry rolls his eyes, bites at the corner of his thumb. “Why do you think?” Zayn raises an eyebrow. “He’s going to marry Brian and I don’t want to watch them so happy and in love. I just—I really don’t, Zee. It’ll kill me.”
Zayn sighs heavily. The creases on his forehead remind Harry of the times his mother would sigh and shake her head whenever she found him trying to bake in the kitchen, covered head to toe in flour. Instead of the lecture he’d been expecting, Zayn simply pats Harry’s head and pulls him into a tighter hold. “Haz.” He murmurs into Harry’s thick mop of hair. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard.” Harry clenches his fingers tighter around the material of Zayn’s black jumper. “You can’t let it eat you up like this.”
“I know.” Harry mumbles. He squeezes his eyes tighter and digs his nose into Zayn’s side in hopes that none of this will be real in a while.
“I thought you might be getting over your feelings for him.”
Harry snorts. “It’s been three years, Zee. Doesn’t seem like it’s going to disappear any time soon.” By the way Zayn’s chest moves, Harry’s knows he’s sighing, that he’s feeling just as resigned as Harry is. It truly does feel like they’re out of options. “Do you think there’s a chance that he might like me back?”
When Harry uncovers his face to tilt his head up, Zayn looks back with an expression of pity. Harry hates it. He hates feeling like there’s no chance, that even his friends are aware of it. He buries his face into Zayn’s side again and playfully bites into the meat of Zayn’s arm. Zayn flinches with a light chuckle. “I don’t know for sure.” Harry can feel it when Zayn shrugs around him. “I think he does.”
“If he did he wouldn’t be marrying some posh twat, know it all.”
Zayn snorts at that and for a moment the simple sound of it makes Harry freeze up. If Louis were here, he’d know just how to make Zayn laugh. He’d know how to make Harry laugh. Louis loves making people happy. Harry’s yearning for it, wants to cuddle up to Louis on this sofa and watch a rom-com and gossip about their friends and just laugh with him. The rainbows and sunshine are the best parts of spending time with Louis. He’s just joyful and full of life and happiness. And Harry misses him so much right now.
Harry feels weary just thinking of what he has lost. Literally, he knows that he hasn’t lost Louis but it feels like he has. Brian will become Louis’ whole world. Louis will look at Brian the way he used to look at Harry. He’ll grow fond and tease and love Brian endlessly. When Louis loves, he loves passionately. Despite being the toughest, strongest, most loyal and reliable person Harry knows, Louis wears his heart on his sleeve and becomes the biggest romantic once he lets his walls down.
Harry’s chest hurts just thinking about it. Before Brian, it used to be just the two of them, they’d do the things Louis and Brian do now. He and Louis had simply fit before Brian came along or maybe that’s just the way things had felt for Harry. Maybe Louis hadn’t seen it that way.
Harry groans audibly in frustration and Zayn nudges his side. “What s’it H?”
Harry can feel the threat of a sob working it’s way up his throat. He takes a moment to swallow but his words come out thickly anyway when he explains it to Zayn. “I can’t tell if I’m just envious or jealous or pining or whatever the hell this is. I feel like I’m going to lose him.” Harry finishes.
Zayn runs the back of his knuckles against Harry’s arm in slow strokes. “You won’t. You didn’t lose him when Brian came along. He spent more time with him anyway, being married makes no difference.”
Harry sighs and pulls out of Zayn’s hold to slide lower on the sofa. “They’ve known each other for like, what—one and a half years? Or two or something?”
“Something like that.” Zayn nods.
“It’s too early to get married.” Harry snorts.
“Babe, we’re almost halfway to forty.”
“And?” Harry quirks an eyebrow at him in question. Zayn opens his mouth about to say something, hesitates for a few seconds then clamps it shut. He shakes his head and shrugs. It irritates Harry for a moment. He loudly huffs for Zayn to hear and slides off his seat to head into the kitchen.
He rummages around the kitchen cupboards in search of the weed. Louis usually keeps a Tupperware of weed stocked somewhere in the kitchen when work at the bank stresses him out and he comes over to smoke and relax. Harry finds the familiar blue box behind some of Louis’ unopened cereal boxes. He rolls a joint, lights it and walks back into the living room with an ash tray.
Zayn looks up from his phone when he returns and gratefully takes the blunt when Harry offers it to him. “You good?” Zayn asks once Harry has taken a hit.
Harry shakes his head and takes a drag. “Never will be.”
Zayn chuckles as if it’s all funny. Harry frowns to show Zayn that he’s unimpressed. “Time heals everything.”
“Please don’t spout that bullshit.” Harry grumbles as he shifts to lay across Zayn’s lap.
They pass the joint back and forth in relative silence. The perks of knowing a friend for many years is them knowing when silence is needed.
But the silence begins to crawl beneath Harry’s skin the longer he lets his thoughts run rapid. He’s desperate to do something, to occupy himself with a distractive task, but at the same time he feels lazy and too comfortable tucked by Zayn’s side that Harry doesn’t want to stand up. “I’m going to tell him.” Harry says after a few minutes of being unable to keep still.
Zayn looks down at him, mutes the television and with a raise of his eyebrows urges Harry to continue. “I have to tell him how I feel or this will never end. I’ll keep worrying myself sick, I’ll work myself up so much that I won’t know how to function. And honestly none of that sounds pleasant. As nerve wrecking as it is, I know I have to talk to him.”
Zayn exhales, the smoke curling up from his lips. “Are you sure about this?”
“What do you mean?”
With a sigh, Zayn taps out the finished joint on the tray and sits back. “I mean, like, are you sure you want to do this? To talk to him and tell him all this when he’s already engaged and stuff?”
Harry frowns. Zayn has a point. He tugs at his lower lip that he’s been worrying between his teeth for the past few minutes. “No. But what option do I have? What if there’s something I missed and if I don’t tell him, I’ll never know. He’ll never know. I think I kind of owe it to the both of us. I’m trying not to be a coward this time.”
When Harry finally lets his gaze slide up to Zayn’s, the soft smile that has carved itself onto Zayn’s thin lips, almost invisible by the thick beard he sports, makes Harry feel just a little bit lighter. So he sits up with a determined plan beginning to flower in his mind. “I have to make a call.” Harry says.
He walks halfway towards his bedroom before pausing. Doubt’s icy fingers are lightly tracing the back of Harry’s mind, trying to climb onto his consciousness. He turns on his heel with the words lodged in his throat. Zayn’s watching him. His expression morphs from confusion to worry at Harry’s continued silence.
“Am I--” Harry chokes out. “Am I doing the right thing?”
Zayn is up and over like lightning. He grasps Harry by the shoulders and digs his thumbs into the bone so Harry will look at him. “H, one thing I’ve always known about you and admired is how you trust your gut feeling. You’ve always been right about instinctively knowing what decisions to make, when things aren’t right. If this is something you feel you must do, then you have to. I think you owe it to yourself mostly.”
Harry doesn’t understand why he feels emotional but his eyes are stinging, threatening to spill tears. He tilts his head back and blinks rapidly to get rid of the tears. “But—what if I ruin Louis’ relationship? What if I’m the reason everything falls apart?”
“Babe,” The soft tone Zayn adapts makes Harry feel incredibly childish. Zayn lets his hands slide down Harry’s arms to hold his hands. “They’re engaged. You’ve known Louis for several years. He’s your best friend and confessing your feelings is not going to ruin your friendship. You’re being honest. There’s nothing to ruin by you revealing how you feel.”
Zayn hesitates for a moment as if he’s contemplating the effect of his next words. “Except if you keep quiet, you’ll hurt yourself. It won’t ruin his relationship unless Louis reciprocates your feelings but then that means he was never happy with Brian in the first place. If Louis doesn’t feel the same way, he’ll probably tell you so, nothing will fall apart there.”
“It’s me who’ll hurt in the end.” Harry lowers his gaze to stare at their bare feet.
“Isn’t that better than letting Louis hurt?”
Harry nods. “I don’t want him to hurt.”
“There you have it.” Zayn squeezes his hands lightly and Harry watches him shift on his feet.
On a whim Harry pulls Zayn into a tight hug and buries his face in the crook of his neck. Zayn smells like aftershave and weed and hospital detergent. “Thanks.” Harry whispers. “Thanks for everything and for being smart about this.”
Zayn’s chuckle sounds wet and thick. “You’re welcome.”
“I have a call to make.” Harry says with the half a smile he can muster once they’ve broken apart.
Zayn jerks his thumb behind him. “And I’ll be here, wasting away in front of the telly.”
-
Harry arrives early at the theme park, in fact a whole half an hour early, which feels like a mistake. As each minute ticks by, he works himself up like a spring - wound up and ready to coil.
The woman at the ticket counter gives him funny looks almost every five minutes. Harry tries to avoid her gaze as he stands outside, leaning against the wall, and watches the people who enter and leave.
As the time nears five, he pulls out his phone and watches the seconds pass. A part of him wonders if Louis is ever going to turn up. Harry has no reason to doubt him. Louis has never stood him up before; today should be no exception. Yet Harry can’t help but worry that Louis may never appear. He contemplates calling Zayn to whine to and keep him company then decides last minute that he doesn’t want to deal with that. His mind is running too fast for him to keep up with. It’s kind of nauseating.
Harry buys two tickets when it’s just five minutes to five and paces the area around the ticket counter. He can feel the woman’s gaze burning holes in his back.
“Haz!” His head snaps up at the sound of Louis’ voice. The sudden relief that washes over Harry nearly sends him buckling in a heap towards the floor.
Louis crashes into him for a hug, a ball full of energy and happiness written all over his face. Harry feels the need to pocket him and just take Louis home and keep him safe. Harry’s heart warms; everything in him seems to whir into life. He feels like he’s on some kind of pill. “It’s good to see you,” he whispers into the side of Louis’ head.
Louis squeezes him around his waist. “Same. Just been busy is all.”
“With the engagement party?” Harry asks when they pull away. Louis doesn’t lift his gaze when he nods. There’s a slight tension to his shoulders where a moment ago he seemed like a free bird. Every time Harry has mentioned Brian and the future in the same sentence, Louis’ expression morphs into something unrecognisable and today Harry really doesn’t want to be the cause of it.
He tugs Louis by the arm and shows him the tickets. “We’re gonna have some fun today.”
Louis’ eyes twinkle when he looks up. “Sounds awesome.” Louis looks incredible in a pair of dark jeans and the wine-coloured jersey he’s wearing. His hair is windswept and his cheeks are pink and kissable. Harry wants to grab him by the waist and pepper his face with kisses. Harry’s heart beats rapidly at the simple thought of it and he freezes for a moment.
“Yeah. What do you wanna do first?”
“The bumper cars!” Louis raises a fist in the air with a small cry of delight. The excitement he is starting to feel is evident by the joy on his face and it’s only a matter of time before it seeps into Harry too. They’re going to feel like adrenaline junkies by the end of the day.
Some of the rides are fucking terrifying. Harry manages the bumper cars and the train ride, even the Ferris wheel. But as the hours fly by and the quicker they move from one ride to another, the more anxious he grows.
He can already feel his organs rearranging themselves when Louis tugs him towards the Roller Coaster. Now would be a good time to fake a faint or pretend to be sick or something. The towering ride that speeds without hesitation makes Harry’s head turn. He gulps, watching the carriage rise high and drop so fast, making it seem like everyone is pummelling to their demise head first.
Harry averts his gaze only to realise that Louis isn’t leading him towards the Roller Coaster, instead he’s heading towards a booth that very likely has a game with a prize.
Without stopping to think, Harry tugs Louis to a halt right in front of the Roller Coasters. This is what he came here for and he’s not planning on backing out. At least some part of him isn’t. Harry’s heart is beating way too fast to be normal though and he might have a heart attack but he’s not going to be a coward today. Not in Louis’ presence. He can freak out about what he’s done when he goes home.
“Haz, what are you doing?”
Harry turns to face him. “What do you think?”
The troubled look that crosses Louis’ face only fuels Harry further. Louis follows him nonetheless as Harry pays for two and enters through the gate. They wait in line for the ride to end before they can get on.
“Harry?” Louis nudges him then curls his fingers around Harry’s arm. Harry hums, urging him to continue. “Are you aware this is the Roller Coaster?”
“I am.” The confused tone to Louis’ voice makes Harry chuckle. He shuffles closer to Louis. A grin spreads across Harry’s face despite the hammering in his chest.
“You don’t like Roller coasters. I—I don’t understand.”
Harry circles his fingers around Louis’ wrist. Louis’ doesn’t let go of his arm. Staring at him, a few inches distance between their faces makes Harry want to lean in and kiss him. Louis looks so soft in the daylight, the light brown of his lashes and the way his fringe falls across his face. The sight floods Harry’s chest with a warmth he can’t explain. It’s like lying on the grass and soaking in everything that’s alive when summer first comes around. “Consider this a gift.” Harry says.
“For what?”
Harry can’t tell Louis that he’s doing this for him but the words are hanging off the tip of his tongue. He wants to see Louis’ face light up if he actually does hear those words. Harry can imagine Louis bouncing on his heels and gripping him by the arms and being absolutely delighted.
“You’ll figure it out.” Harry says instead.
The carriages come to a halt right then, the chatter and the rush of feet and machinery overpowers everything else. In a way, Harry’s glad of the noise that drowns the small conversation between them, that way Louis can’t probe him for a better explanation of his vague phrases.
He pauses when Louis touches his arm, almost tentatively. The hesitancy startles Harry, a pinch of annoyance running through him. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Louis’ worry continues to make Harry determined, instead of feeling the opposite. And usually that’s exactly what would’ve happened. Harry would’ve chickened out. But this—it means a great many things to him, mostly, it’s his way of proving something to the both of them. Harry’s going to keep doing this even if it makes him sick afterwards.
They get into their carriage and once they’re locked in, Harry stares at Louis’ hands clutching the bar. The need to hold his hand is overpowering, mostly because of the fear that has started to set in and also because Harry really wants to feel Louis’ hand in his.
But there’s a look on Louis’ face when he turns to face Harry, one Harry hasn’t quite seen in half a year or so. A look of pure excitement, the look he gets when he’s done something absolutely notorious like leave slices of lime in their friend, Liam’s shoes or swapping the salt and sugar bottles or even worse when he once put up Christmas lights reading Twat with an arrow pointing to one of their other friend’s, Niall’s, house.
The shiver that runs through Harry’s arms doesn’t even compare to the way he feels invigorated by Louis’ enthusiasm. It seems like Harry has lit the damp fire in Louis. It’s as if Louis’ experiencing the world again with new eyes and a lighter burden.
“Lou.” Harry whispers, the need to pull Louis into his arms overwhelming him. Louis doesn’t hear him over the sound of the sound of the ride that has sprung into life. His gaze flickers from one place to the next, taking it all in and Harry is left to watch him with a burning need in his stomach.
What if—what if Harry tells him how he feels and Louis feels the same way but hates Harry for ruining what he has with Brian? What if Louis hates him, period, for compromising his relationship? Harry would rather take the fear of riding this damn Roller Coaster than hurt over the doubts that start chewing him from the inside. He wonders if he could will himself into unconsciousness just for a few minutes, that way he won’t have to deal with either this terrifying ride or the flood of toxic thoughts.
It’s a complete three-sixty when the ride gradually starts accelerating from its slow pace and Louis grabs for Harry’s hand like a lifeline. Yet the look on his face is one of glee. They share a glance for a brief moment and Louis’ eyes light up like a fucking yellow flame that’s soft and alive and calm. Harry might pass out on this ride just from Louis’ zest. The soft smile that Louis sends his way gives him the hint that Louis may have an idea of what Harry’s doing. Harry wouldn’t risk riding a Roller Coaster for just anything.
Harry’s stomach lurches every time their carriage reaches a high point and halts out of the blue. The descents are the worst. Half the time, Harry has the feeling that he might either throw up right then and there or faint. It’s the most frightening thing he has ever done in his life except that one time he decided it was a good idea to jump from the roof as a kid. His leg had to be in a cast for weeks.
He’s reeling by the time the ride comes to a stop. It feels like a dizzy spell has hit Harry and he’s never going to recover. He can barely find his footing or his bearings. Each step he takes threatens to topple him over.
However, Louis’ hand is still in his grip and Louis carefully helps him step down from the carriage. Harry leans heavily into Louis’ side and sighs deeply. His head is still spinning so the two of them shuffle over to the side to avoid blocking the path and wait till Harry can get himself together.
Harry groans and hunches over a fraction. “Are you alright?” Louis asks, his voice almost a whisper that Harry has to strain to hear.
“Think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Shit!” Louis frantically turns on the spot, looking around. “Think there might be a loo somewhere here.”
Harry grabs for Louis’ elbow when he makes to move, tugging him back. Louis stumbles but faces Harry with a questioning look. Harry shakes his head at him and tries to straighten up. “I didn’t mean that literally.” Harry winces. “It’s just in my head. Think I’ll be alright.”
“Okay. That’s good at least.” Louis rubs Harry's arm and steps closer. It’s kind of comforting.
Several minutes later while they watch the activity in the park, Louis says, “That was insane.” His disbelief is very clear in his voice.
“You’ve been on Roller Coasters before.”
Louis gives him a look. “Not with you I haven’t.”
Harry feels the urge to laugh. Instead, he squeezes Louis’ shoulder and gives him a small smile. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
Louis laughs. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did.” Harry says rather firmly. “Besides, it was my first time. I could get used to this.” Definitely not. He’s never stepping foot onto one of those damn things again.
“You still look pale as a sheet.” Louis snorts. “You’re never attempting this again.”
Harry sighs. “True. But I pulled through this one.”
Louis pats his back in support. “That’s great, love. You did well.”
Stifling a chuckle, Harry starts taking slow, cautious steps. “Let’s get something to eat.”
“But we haven’t finished with the rides yet.” Louis whines.
Harry halts and stares at him in shock. Has Louis not had enough? Harry literally just risked his life for him. The cheeky grin he sports tells Harry otherwise and in a matter of seconds Harry gives in.
They buy purple candyfloss to eat while they walk around for a while till Harry feels a little bit better. Louis’ hand lingers inches away from Harry’s arm while they walk, ready to catch him in case he falls. The sentiment makes Harry smile.
Louis finds pleasure on the log ride which Harry declines joining him for, but it’s lovely to see him beaming, and hair mussed up when he comes down after the ride. The train ride is fun. They go on several others that aren’t that life-threatening before finally deciding to have dinner and head home.
“Do you have a place in mind?” Louis asks as they head towards the car park.
“Actually, I do.” It would’ve been a disaster if Harry hadn’t planned out this day and instead let things run it’s own course. In his worry and haste to get things over with, he wouldn’t have been able to accomplish tasks on the spot. Without hesitation, Harry reaches for Louis’ hand. He pretends to ignore the surprised look Louis throws his way.
The moment they gradually start slowing down in front of the restaurant, Louis gasps upon recognising it. As he tries to find a parking space, he doesn’t take his eyes off the lit up sign. “Haz.” He mutters. “Holy shit, I love this place.”
Harry smiles. “Obviously. It’ll be a pleasant surprise.”
Louis rubs his hands together once they step out, glancing at the restaurant. “Oh, I can’t wait.”
After locking up the car, Harry follows Louis inside the warm restaurant. The lights are soft and ambient, contrasting with the navy blue table clothes and the variety of smartly dressed people at this hour of the night. It smells delicious, the aroma of every platter wafting in the air. A brown-haired waiter leads them to the reserved table Harry had booked earlier and leaves them with two menus.
Louis doesn’t even have to glance at the menu to decide what he wants to eat and drink. He has been here way too many times. Harry reaches over and pulls Louis' menu away so he can see his face. Louis raises an eyebrow. “The meal will be the chef’s special.” Harry tells him. “Just choose a drink.”
“Did you coax Niall into doing this for you?”
“You know me too well.” Harry smirks despite the fact that it feels like his insides are turning uncomfortably. Getting Niall to fix the chef’s special at a cheap price for tonight had been a piece of cake. He’d been more than happy to cater to Harry’s needs during that phone call he made after the chat with Zayn. Niall was even adamant about the dessert being on the house. The hardest part to tackle is what comes after the meal. Harry’s not ready for it. He's thinks he'd even prefer to be riding the roller coaster again.
Harry swallows thickly and smiles. “At least we won’t have to pay through our nose this time.”
“That’s true. It’s a blessing that Niall’s a chef and practically owns this place.”
Harry glances around at the mention of the restaurant and smiles at how tasteful it looks. It had taken Niall six years to get where he is today. They’d all been supportive of him from day one. “He did well.” Harry agrees.
Halfway through their medium rare steaks, Harry can’t stand it. He can’t bear the thoughts that haunt the back of his mind. They make his stomach churn in an ugly way and he can barely even focus on what Louis’ saying. It’s torture listening to the voice in his head that is completely irrational. Yet, it’s the very thing that has an iron clad grip on him and has locked his heart in a poison chamber.
It takes Harry a few seconds to notice that Louis has placed his hand over Harry’s. He doesn’t even realise he has been tapping his fork on his plate. Harry winces at the thought. It must’ve bothered Louis. “Harry, you’ve been acting weird all night.” Shit.
He has to tell Louis. He has to get this over with. Maybe then all the chaos in his head will stop. He can’t help but think of how much Louis will hate him no matter what turn it takes. The feeling that this will never go smoothly is an unreachable itch under his skin that makes Harry want to tear his skin off. It’s never going to end well and that’s the part that scares him the most. It’s even worse than being scared of the drop on the Roller Coaster. It’s like he’s driving headfirst into a wall with his heart between his teeth.
“Harry?” Louis’ fingers curl around Harry’s wrist. His furrowed eyebrows don’t ease. Harry leans across the table and gently pulls Louis’ lip away from his teeth when he begins to chew on it. He doesn’t let himself feel bad about him actions or the fact that it shocks Louis.
He takes in a deep breath. “Lou, there’s something I need to tell you.” Harry places the cutlery carefully on the plate and clasps his hands under the table.
Louis’ hands fall away limply onto the table. His forehead creases and Harry doesn’t like it. But at least Louis doesn’t look like he’s going to burst a vein from all the worry. “I—I actually have something to tell you too, though i-it may be kind of late.”
His words send Harry into a whole new level of anxiety. He wants to ask Louis’ if it’s Brian, whether Louis needs him to stay away. Maybe Louis knows how he feels and doesn’t want Harry to be in his life anymore.
Niall’s text message couldn’t have come at a better time. It’s a buzz that breaks through the tension. Harry briefly glances at the message that blinks on the screen and finds Niall standing near the doorway of the kitchen. He gives Harry a thumbs up. He can’t chicken out now, not when one of his friends is watching him.
Harry barrels on before Louis can say what he has to. It’s frightening to think about what Louis has to say.
“This feels like the worst time to say this.” Harry begins. Staring into Louis’ eyes makes Harry guiltier. He stares at the steak instead, stabbing at it slowly with the fork. “You’re about to get married and I feel like the shittiest best friend to do this. God, I hope you don’t hate me for this.”
“H, whatever this is, you know I’m always here. You also need to get to the point, love.” There’s a hint of a smile the way Louis says it. He’s clueless. Harry doesn’t think he can get through this. It’s going to break Louis when he finds out. Louis would be so mad. But Harry can’t keep carrying this around with him.
“Lou, I really like you.” Harry rushes out the words. He stuffs a large piece of steak in his mouth so he won’t have to say another word and doesn’t even attempt to look up. The silence that continues, threatens to swallow him whole. It’s a terrible feeling.
“I like you too, H.”
Harry frowns, lifting his head up to face Louis. Louis’ brows furrow just slightly but there’s a soft smile across his thin lips. “N-no.” Harry stutters. “I love you.”
Louis’ smile grows just a tiny bit bigger. Harry watches the way the skin beside his eyes begin to bunch. “I love you too, H.”
Harry closes his eyes against the sudden irritation that flares. “No. You’re not getting it.” He forces out. “I love you in a more than friends way.”
The last thing he expects is for Louis to beam brightly and in a matter of seconds for it to fall flat. Here it is, the final lap. Louis’ going to yell at him and be so mad he’ll never want to see Harry’s face ever again. It feels like Louis has already slapped him across the face. It feels like Harry has already destroyed their friendship and Louis hasn’t even said a word yet.
“Say something.” Harry’s voice comes out sounding cracked and rough.
“I’m engaged.” Louis mumbles. He brings his hand up to look at the plain silver ring that sits neatly between his middle and tiny finger. Harry shouldn’t be surprised. But he is.
“I know.” Harry hangs his head. He’s lost his appetite and the steak just looks like a pile of raw meat. He cringes at the sight of it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up. I’m truly sorry, Lou.”
“Are you?” He rasps.
Shocked, Harry raises his head to stare at Louis’ forlorn face. “N-no-not really.” He swallows thickly. He can’t lie. He’s not sorry he told Louis. He needed to get this off his chest. He needed Louis to know.
Louis’ lips quiver. Harry can’t help himself from running a thumb across the creases on Louis’ forehead. “You’ll look fifty if you keep doing that.” Harry says softly. He lets his fingers run down Louis’ face to cradle his cheek.
Louis’ shoulders shake with his chuckle. It’s a pleasant sound. “I’m glad you told me.” He says. The deep breath he takes scares Harry for a split second. “I wanted to tell you the same thing.”
“You like like me?” Harry asks, stunned. His fingers stutter where they stroke Louis’ cheek.
Louis shakes his head. “Love you actually.” He mumbles. The red that creeps up his neck coats his cheeks. He’s beautiful. Harry taps his thumb on Louis’ chin. “For years.”
“Me too.” Harry agrees. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you sooner.” The excitement hasn’t come rushing into him yet or he’d be jumping in his seat or pulling Louis into his arms and kissing the life out of him. Harry’s sure he’s still in shock. He’s still in awe and beyond surprised at the admission.
“Me neither.” Louis shrugs. “We have the worst timing.” Harry's chest tightens at the dry chuckle.
“I can’t believe you like me too.” Harry says in awe. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Louis. “I thought you’d hate me. Does that mean—that you—“ He eyes the ring in indication.
Louis runs a finger over the plain band, a blank look on his face. “Yeah.” The word is a whisper. “I didn’t think I’d find the right person.” It saddens him, the fact that Louis was more than okay with settling for something he didn’t want. It hurts him the more Louis’ voice fades into a raspy whisper with every word, like he’s breaking. He wants Louis to look at him, wants Louis to know that he’s loved. “I was content. It was okay.”
“Oh Lou.” He doesn’t care. He holds Louis’ hands in his, running his thumb over the them and watches him. “Lou, babe, fuck that hurts to know. I love you so much as a friend and more. Always have. I can’t—“ Harry takes a deep breath. He can’t believe Louis thought it was okay to marry someone he doesn’t exactly love. “You deserve so much more Lou.”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head. His eyes never lift from the table. “Please don’t, Haz. Not now.”
Harry sighs. There’s plenty of time to talk to Louis about this. Yet, there’s the one thing that still hasn’t let his mind. Tentatively he tries. “Lou—i--if we both feel the same way, this is not hopeless.” He whispers for just the two of them to hear. He catches Louis glance at the ring. Harry wants a chance. He wants to try.
Louis nods. He glances up suddenly, lips parting. “I wanna kiss you so bad.” He says.
“Fuck.” Harry breathes. “Don’t say stuff like that right now, Lou.”
He smiles and this time it’s not half-hearted. “Let’s finish this meal first.”
-
A day later, Louis shows up at Harry’s doorstep, eyes rimmed red and a satchel on his shoulder. Harry’s immediate reaction is one of worry. The weariness is very apparent by the lack of expression on Louis’ face and the way his shoulders slacken. Harry barely even gets Louis’ name out before Louis pulls him by the shirt into a bruising kiss.
“Lou.” Harry breathes heavily, pulling away seconds later. They gasp in air as they gaze at each other. Louis’ lips are swollen and red. Harry’s eyes track the way he runs his tongue over them. “Lou, what—“
“We broke up.” Louis’ replies before Harry finishes his question.
There’s a sudden weight that lifts off Harry’s shoulders at the admission. He feels the corners of his lips curving up. “Oh.” He says.
A hint of a smile graces Louis’ lips. Without warning, he pushes his way inside, shutting the door behind him. He drops his bag onto the floor and presses close to Harry. “Kiss me.” He breathes right before Harry does