Save Myself // Larry Stylinson

Chapter 19

Chapter 19: XIX

Summary:

Here it is! Finally, they talk...

This chapter is short. I'm going to work much harder on the next one, I swear.

I've just been listening to a lot of throw back music while writing this, by that I mean mostly the Linking Park I listened to in the past because I've realized that they are kind of the soundtrack to Louis' life in this story.

The two stand-out songs that I'd recommend listening to that are just SO Louis are Castle of Glass and Robot Boy.

Also, thanks as always for your support on this story and all your comments! You're all amazing and I appreciate it so, so much!
Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

———————————————————————————
Louis swallowed hard as Harry settled in next to him, keeping a firm distance, but his body language still as open as ever. Louis kind of hated it. He hated that he'd created this divide between them and hated even more that if he were to try to erase it, that it might mean something different now. And he hated that he didn't know if he wanted it to be different. What he did want was for things to be the same, but he doubted they could go back easily. He'd probably ruined any shot he had at that.

"You weren't in class," was the first thing Louis thought to say and for someone who read as much poetry as he did, he should have been a lot better at placing words in a neat line.

Harry nodded once, "I was embarrassed."

Oh. That wasn't something Louis had considered. Embarrassed? Maybe that made sense. Louis had left Harry hanging after he'd opened his heart to him. Fuck, Louis had fucked up.

He meant to respond, he really did, but it was just that he'd practically ran out of his house without even thinking about what to say. Louis didn't do that, was the the thing. He didn't fly by the seat of his pants. He'd probably waiting to long to say something because Harry was talking again and fuck, Louis was shit. He always let Harry pick up his slack. He had to stop doing that.

"You didn't text me the other night. I saw you typing but you didn't send it. Do you really not have anything to say to me? Yeah, I fucked up, but I'm still the same person, you know?"

Louis mostly just wanted to vomit, "you didn't text me, either. you were typing, too"

A ghost of a smile played on the corners of Harry's lips, finally, Harry broke the barrier between them. He reached his foot across and kicked Louis' foot, the slightest laugh escaping, "sucks, doesn't it?"

Despite everything, Harry's mood was light, and Louis was drawn into it like a moth to a flame. He hadn't expected this. Mostly he'd just expected Harry to be upset. Maybe refuse to talk to him at all, but here he was sitting next to Louis and laughing. Fuck. Harry was fucking perfect, wasn't he?

"Yeah, I suck." Louis voice was shaky from his nerves.

Harry kicked his foot again, harder this time, "stop that. I'll only let you accept 50% of the blame. I was stupid, but you could have talked to me. You could have told me I was stupid."

"You weren't stupid," Louis argued.

"Oh, but I was." Harry said mournfully, "I mean, as soon as I started to say it I could tell you had no idea what I was talking about. That was kind of all the answer I needed—that you hadn't even considered it... I obviously made it all up in my head and that was stupid."

Louis had read a lot of books in his life time. He'd read through his fair share of love stories and he knew how this should have gone. This was where he was supposed to tell Harry how he felt. This was where he should tell Harry he was wrong. This was the part where they were supposed to kiss and run off together.