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It was hot out the day Harry fell in love with Louis. The heat was not oppressive, but just that slightest bit uncomfortable where you had to wear light clothes, apply sunscreen to the high points of your face, and drink lots of water.
Despite the distraction of the upcoming summer months and the beautiful change in weather, Harry still found himself fully focused on Louis. He has always been focused on Louis, to be honest. They have always had young hearts, Louis being the most wild and free out of the pair. Harry loved that about his best friend, had always tried to be just like him, especially when they were much younger. He would just sit there and admire what he was like all day long if he could.
So that was what he was doing. They were lying out on the grass in front of City Hall, the shadows of architecture and sounds of the city surrounding them; buses going up and down Market Street, office workers out for lunch, purchasing halal from food carts on the corner, dogs and children chasing each other playfully. There was not a cloud in the sky, the bright blue stretching on for miles and miles over them, over the city’s skyscrapers.
The blue was quite beautiful, but nowhere near as beautiful as the blue of Louis’ eyes. Harry had never noticed it before this day, but now that he had, he would never see them the same way ever again. This realization struck him as they laid on the soft, saturated green grass, both on their sides facing each other. Louis’ face had lit up in response to one of Harry’s cheesy jokes, his smile wide and playful, his eyes squinting in delight. Heart pounding, palms damp, nerves twitching; it was at that moment that Harry had realized he fell in love with his childhood best friend.
He fell in love with the boy who befriend him in first grade when no one else would. He fell in love with the boy he would pointlessly try to start playful fights with on the school playground. He fell in love with the boy whose shoulder he cried into when his parents divorced; he fell in love with the boy who cried into his shoulder when his parents divorced, too.
He fell in love with the boy who stayed his best friend all throughout elementary school even though their neighborhood friend group kept growing. He fell in love with the boy who traveled with him to the same high school in the city, a new experience for the both of them.
The boy who has traveled the same hard road that he has traveled.
Harry might have not seen it coming at the time, but now he realized that even if he does not know where he’s going, he’d always come back to Louis.
It was hot out the day Harry fell in love with Louis. The overwhelming feeling of love he was feeling for Louis was so intense and undeniable, but Harry had kept it locked up. It was so sudden, so exact. But it was scary. Extremely scary.
Since when did Harry like boys? He had always been interested in girls—even if he never dated or kissed one, he knew he was at least attracted to them. But now he was also realizing he could be attracted to boys. He was allowed to be attracted to both. He could be attracted to his best friend. And he was.
The sudden realization that he was bisexual was not what scared Harry, though. No, it was that he liked Louis. He did not want to ruin their friendship. He did not want to break Louis’ heart, or have Louis break his.
So Harry laid in the grass at Dilworth Park, Louis at his side, as his mind spiraled out of control. Louis, who was probably telling some intricate story, just kept talking and talking, his mind too used to Harry’s common quietness to notice that anything was off. Harry was okay with that—the less Louis noticed, the better.
He watched Louis talk as his mind wandered somewhere far off, not exactly hearing his words but seeing everything like he was seeing it for the first time. Louis’ hand movements were enthusiastic and facial expressions exciting. His lips curl as he smiled, his eyebrows jumped with each laugh, his long eyelashes casted shadows over the tan of his cheeks. Everything he did was enchanting.
Harry sorted himself out quickly, and by the time Louis had turned to him to ask a question, Harry was fully present in the moment again.
“Wanna take a walk?”
They stood and brushed the grass off their clothes, a breeze rolling in from between the buildings to cool the sweat on their backs and foreheads. Harry slipped on his flip flops, ignoring Louis’ side comment and snort of “hippie” as he put his black vans back on, and then they were off. They had no direction, but Harry did not mind. He liked seeing where Louis would take him; they both knew the city so well at this point.
They’ve explored bus routes at two in the morning in the middle of brisk autumn nights. They’ve visited every museum at least twice two summers ago, just on a whim in the middle of school break boredom. One Christmas break they even spent their entire savings on ice skating in every rink around the city they could find.
Harry would follow Louis anywhere. Sometimes, he did not know where he was, but knew he would get back.
Louis lead Harry down the Parkway towards the Art Museum, the buildings and cityscape parting as they escaped City Hall by walking through Love Park.
The sun was high in the sky, the brightness of it making everything glow in a fascinating and peculiar kind of way. It reflected off the buildings, it moved with the cars as they raced down the street. The cool grays of the cement contrasted perfectly, the two color scales so different yet so in harmony.
As they traveled, the sun warmed Harry up, even though he did not really need it; Louis’ presence was always enough to make him feel warm on the inside. Maybe Harry has always been in love with Louis…and he only just realized it.
They walked down the Parkway in silence, green and Logan Square coming into view, the roundabout and fountain a familiar view. The air smelled the perfect mixture of salt and musk, the breeze making the mist of the water travel straight into the pair’s faces. As they crossed the street and finally stepped onto the pebbled and sandy ground of the park, Harry was assaulted with memories.
Harry and Louis used to picnic under the trees after school in Logan Square. They’ve played frisbee in the shadow of the surrounding museums and the library. They and their other friends had gathered here many times in the past, sleeping on park benches, studying for exams, filming for their digital video class. A few months ago, they even had their prom photos taken in front of the fountain—Louis and his date, both dapper in their suits, and Harry and the rest of the single guys in their group.
Logan Square had many memories attached to it. Harry was always up for making more.
They walked to the edge of the fountain, the area equally as populated as Dilworth Park was. They sat in silence and watched the children frolic in the water, their excited screams drowning out the sea of bus engines and car horns. The young kids had not one worry in the word; they ran through the fountain and climbed the statues like it was their own private palace pool, their moms and dads shouting from the dry land to be careful. Harry missed the innocence of a child’s imagination.
“I want to dip my toes in,” Harry said to Louis, not quite looking at his face as he did. The sun was now high above them and he knew for certain if he looked at Louis’ face with the golden light beaming down on it, he would not be able to look away.
Louis readily agreed with Harry and soon both boys had their shoes off and their feet dangling into the cool, crisp city fountain water. Was it the cleanest? No, probably not. Was it the most refreshing? Definitely.
It was hot out the day Harry fell in love with Louis.
Louis splashed Harry first, getting the water all the way up his calf to his knee, the water drops visible in his leg hair.
“Heyyy,” Harry whined.
Louis splashed him again, biting his bottom lip as he did so, a mischievous glint igniting a fire behind his eyes. If Harry was not careful, he could get caught in the sparkle and then he would definitely drown, in more ways than one. The water reached up and soaked the carefully folded cuff of his denim shorts
“Okay, that’s it, Tomlinson. It’s on now.”
They abandoned their shoes and cell phones on dry land and ran through the fountain with reckless joy. They ducked under the arches of the spewing water, kicking and splashing, giggling and cackling as they joined the excited children as they defended their water castle from invisible evil sea creatures.
Harry almost slipped a few times as he attempted to chase down Louis. His lanky limbs almost knocked out a child or two. He stayed on his feet the whole time, though, and so did the children. Soon he was out of breath and decided it was time for a break. He paused in the shallow part of the fountain and cupped his hands to bring water to his arms too cool his skin off. He stood with his hands on his hips as his breath caught up with his racing heart, the water around his ankles lapping against his skin restlessly.
He closed his eye briefly, enjoying the sound of the children’s screams melding together with a variety of shrieking laughs. The city washed over Harry as he stood in the epicenter of the most peaceful vortex ever. From a distance, he heard Louis’ cries of mingling with it all. He had not one worry in the world.
A noise from behind him startled him, though—a woman clearing her throat almost causing him to slip into the water. Luckily, he did not. But he could have.
“I’m sorry if I startled you, young man,” the woman said, dark eyebrows furrowed.
“Oh,” Harry chuckled, “it’s fine. I’m fine, promise.”
Her expression shifted from worry to kindness, the corners of her mouth lifting to form a smile. “I just wanted to come and say thank you to you and your friend,” she said and gestured to Louis who was still causing a ruckus in the middle of the fountain with the original children they befriended, only with more now added on to the group, though. “It is so lovely seeing young men like you two willingly playing with young children. It warms my heart and my kids are loving all the attention too.”
Harry smiled happily, his heart soaring as the mom spoke to him. She reminded him of his own mother, her doting nature and warm personality instantly sparking something within him. “It’s a pleasure to play with children. I love their constant and infectious happiness. Everyone needs a bit of that in their life nowadays.”
She laughed at that and sat down on the wall of the fountain so she could keep a watchful over her children as she engaged Harry in conversation. Harry did the same, sitting next to her but keeping his feet in the fountain water and his eyes on Louis’ energetic figure dashing from one green spitting frog state to the next green spitting frog statue.
They spoke calmly and casually, having a wonderful conversation together under the midday sun. Harry told her all about his senior year, his final journalism project, what colleges he applied for, what colleges Louis applied for.
“We plan on going to the same school together. Louis has been my best friend my whole life. I don’t know what road we are on or where we are heading, but I can say that I’ve always known from the start that it ends with him and me.”
She told him all about her two sons and daughter, how happy she is to see them grow up into their own persons. She commended Harry, and Louis, for how wonderful, smart, and kind hearted they come across as.
“I wish the two of you the best of luck,” she smiled and stood, leaving Harry to finally collect her children.
Not long after the family had left and all the other children wore themselves out, the equally as worn out Louis Tomlinson returned, sitting down next to Harry and collapsing against his body. Harry instantly froze, the contact on Louis’ body shocking and comforting at the same time.
“I am so tired, Harry.”
It was hot out the day Harry fell in love with Louis. Louis’ body was warm against his own as he sat there and let his heart rate return to normal, the added heat more comforting than annoying. The sounds of excited children had disappeared, the atmosphere of Logan Square going from jubilant to a more soft, happy calmness. The only noises Harry tried to focus on were the mingling of his and Louis’ breathing and the echoing sound of the fountain, water slapping against water.
Louis smelled sweet against Harry. His sweat and his fountain-soaked clothes matching nicely to his boyish scent. Harry truly wanted to giggle at himself in the moment as he tried to commit the smell of his best friend to his memory. It was silly and pointless yet everything about it just felt right and perfect. There was nothing he would have rather been doing in that exact moment.
He looked down at his hands laying uselessly in his lap. He looked over as Louis’ hands, his fingers gripping the edge of the wall of the fountain. Harry corrected his mind—there was nothing he would rather be doing right now other than holding Louis’ hand. But he has never done that before. It would have been wildly uncalled for if he just randomly went to hold it. Right?
His palms instantly got sweaty, his stomach erupted in butterflies, his skin raised into goosebumps. Hold Louis’ hand… Hold Louis’ hand… Hold Louis’ hand… Hold Louis’ hand.
Louis lifted his head from Harry’s shoulder and Harry instantly missed the heat on his skin, the simple point of contact.
“We should go.”
Harry nodded in response, always agreeing with his best friend.
The pair lifted their feet from the fountain, shook off the dripping water, and spun around back to dry land to put their shoes back on and to retrieve their cell phones. And then they were off, saying goodbye to Logan Square yet again as they left the park all together and continued down the Parkway.
Harry had though their destination was going to be the art museum, but Louis guided them to the Rodin instead, steering clearing of the Rocky Steps that he knew would be swarmed with tourists.
The gardens of the Rodin have always been one of Harry’s favorite places. He has enjoyed many private sessions in the Rodin’s garden, sitting alone on a bench for hours with a pencil and a sketchbook as his only companions. To Harry, the captivating intimate garden was a tranquil oasis in the middle of Center City—a little window into life in France, but in Philadelphia.
The entered the gardens of the museum by passing a replica of Rodin’s most well-known sculpture, The Thinker. They walked through the intricate entry way, the columns large and intimidating, but the off-white stone warm and welcoming. As the entered, they came face to face with the center of the garden where, jutting off the front of the museum itself, a large rectangular hedge-lined fountain lived. Everything around them was in bloom, the scent of flowers extremely overwhelming in the best way possible. The crowd around the gardens was at a minimum and Harry led them to his favorite bench on the right side of the garden. He fully expected him and Louis to just sit there bask in their calming silence, but as they got settled down it became more and more apparent Louis had something he had to say.
“Harry?”
“Yes?”
“You’ve always told me I’ve got a young and that it’s wild and free,” Louis said, his breathing deliberately slow and attentive. “I really don’t know…when or how that started, but what I do know is that it’s always been you and me, against the world.”
Harry chuckled. “Against the world. Yeah, definitely,” he sighed. “It’s been a hard road.”
Louis looked at Harry, his eyes sad. “Do you know where you’re going to school next year? You’ve committed, right?” Harry nods in confirmation—they both know he’s off to Princeton in the fall, hopefully with Louis by his side. “I don’t know where I’m going, H, but I know for a fact I’ll come back to you and me. I will.”
Harry froze. “What do you mean you’ll come back?” But Princeton. We promised , Harry thought to himself.
Louis took a deep breath. “I’m not going to Princeton, Harry. I never,” he swallowed hard, “I never actually applied.”
Harry’s heart stopped beating. Why didn’t Louis tell him this months ago? He could have told him during one of their many, many, many late night phone conversations where Harry had unloaded all his fears and anxieties about the future. Why did Louis coddle him? Why didn’t he just spit out the truth?
“I thought—” Harry sighed angrily. “We were two kids. We promised that no matter where we go—”
“We’ll be alright, Harry. Have a bit of patience, please,” Louis begged. “I know what’s to come—it’s coming for you and me. We can do this on our own. I know we can. We’re strong, we’re smart. We don’t always need to be around each other to be successful.”
Harry tried holding his frustrated tears at bay. He could not tell whether his logic or emotions would win him over. “How do you know?” he begged, voice unsteady.
“Wait for me. I’ll wait for you. It’s what we need. For once, I need to live a selfish life because it’s what I need.” Louis’ voice cracked. This was as equally hard for Louis has it was for Harry and that was unfair. Harry did not care if he felt pain, but he never wanted his best friend to feel pain. “What do I have to make you believe?”
Harry took a deep, steady breath. “Believe what?”
“It’s all for you and me.”
***
Harry and Louis started college in the fall, an entire country separating them from each other. Harry was separated from his best friend, the same best friend he fell in love with in just one day. It just so happened to be the same day he also had his heart crushed.
But now he was at college. Harry had the ability to explore and experiment now, reach out and reinvent himself. Harry could be anyone he wanted to be, so he was.
But at night, when he was lying in bed in his hot dorm room, the heat much more oppressive than it was from that special day he spent with Louis during the beginning of the summer, he knew—he was convinced, that even from a distance, Louis could hear his cries. He knew, deep down in his heart that if Louis were there, he would whisper the same words he always whispered when Harry was upset.
It sickened Harry that he could still so perfectly hear the words in his head.
Don’t you worry, darling. Don’t lose sleep tonight.
And that’s how Harry had fallen asleep almost every night his first year of college, with Louis words ringing in his ear.
“I can promise it,” Louis had whispered as they hugged goodbye in front of Harry’s house after their adventurous city day. “I can guarantee it, Harry. At the end of this hard road, this stupid fucking road life always seems to drag us on—at the end, I see you with me.” Harry continued with his academic career, never forgetting a single word Louis had said to him that day.
Harry finished college as a star student, ready to take on the world. But there was one thing that he always felt like he was missing.
“It’s Louis, isn’t it?” Niall, Harry’s best friend for the past four year, had asked him as he laid in his empty dorm room at the end of senior year. His belongings were all packed into his car, his entire life shoved into the backseat and trunk of his used sedan.
Niall, Harry’s assigned freshman year roommate became his closest friend and his most trusted confidant over the course of the four years, so of course he had heard the endless stories about Louis Tomlinson. Endless stories that included all the good…and the heartbreak.
Harry didn’t feel the need to reply to Niall. Of course it was Louis. Louis has always been the one thing that had been missing.
“Are you still going to wait for him, like he asked you to?”
“I don’t know, Ni. I’m unsure. It’s been so long.”
“You could finally get that kiss you’ve always been wanting.”
Harry snorted. “That was a one day crush four years ago.” Of course he still wanted to kiss Louis. Not that Niall needed to know that. “What he did was selfish, Niall.”
“Yeah, but he it’s his life too. You know he said he was doing it for the both of you.”
Harry shrugged. He knew Niall was right, he just didn’t want to admit it.
“So what are you doing to do?”
Harry shrugged.
“Stop fucking shrugging at me Harry!” Niall exploded. “You’ve been moping for four years now. Your whole college career. Instead of stressing about your final like literally anything other normal person, you were stressing about Louis’ finals, hoping that he was doing well. You need to do something about this.”
***
With a giant kick in the ass from Niall, Harry finally, finally reached out to Louis. They were both done with school now. They were both fully functioning adults with lives and hopefully jobs. They were adults and yet Harry was still worried about a stupid kiss.
Meet me at Logan Square tomorrow? At noon?
Sure Harry! I miss you. Any specific reason?
Nah.
I want to talk to you.
I see your face.
I want to kiss your face.
I missed you.
Harry only sent the last text, simply opting for the easiest message. He was looking forward to seeing Louis again for the first time in what felt like forever. Philadelphia used to be their territory—their stomping ground.
“Drove down the expressway on the way here,” Louis said in lieu of a greeting as he approached the bench Harry was sitting on. He joined Harry on the bench and Harry almost broke down into tears. Louis had gotten so, so beautiful. Because of course he had. He’s Louis Tomlinson—still the most beautiful man Harry has ever known to that day. “The river’s a very charming shade of brown this afternoon,” he smiled, making himself comfortable again the wood.
“Heeyyy,” Harry whined. “Don’t diss the Schuylkill. She’s a beauty. I can’t believe you are gone for four years, Mr. California, and then you reappear and throw slader at your home city!”
Louis chuckles, his smile wide and happy. “I’ve missed you, Harry. I really, really missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Harry confessed, voice much lower in volume than Louis’. Niall may have convinced him to do this, but that did not mean he had automatic confidence.
“All I asked for was a bit of patience, please.”
“I know,” Harry whispered.
“You know Harry…” Louis whispered, now his time to be shy and quiet. “When we were younger and I would look down the line towards the future and at the man I wanted to be—even from then, I’d always known, from the start, that it would end with you and me.”
“You and me?” Harry asked confused.
Louis took Harry’s hand in his own, the action surprising Harry, but thrilling him nonetheless.
He surprised Harry even more when he leaned in and kissed his cheek.
“Yes,” he smiled shyly, “you and me.”