Defenceless l.s

Sixty One

Harry kept stealing glances of Louis as he munched on his fries. He sat in silence and picked on his food seemingly deep in thought. "What's on your mind?" He asked, wanting to wipe away the frown etched into Louis' features.

"Hmm?" He looked up at Harry, the crease between his eyebrow easing. "Oh, nothing. Was just thinking." 

"About what?" He asked, not satisfied with Louis' answers.

"Nothing much, just you know," his eyes flickered across Harry's face. 

"No, I don't know. You seem down, what's going on Lou?" He pushed on, wanting to know what caused the sudden mood change.

He sighed. Harry could see the hesitation in Louis' eyes. He opened his mouth to speak just to close it again. He repeated this action a few times, not knowing what to say. Or that's not completely true, he knew exactly what he wanted to say. He wanted to say how much he liked Harry and how much he hated that he did cause he knew it would hurt all the more when he left. He wanted to tell him how he wanted to spend every moment with him until he realized what a pathetic excuse a boyfriend Louis was, just to savour those moments. 

He wanted to ask him why? Why he chose Louis. Out of all the people he could have, why him? How could someone like him ever even cast a glance his way? In what universe did that make sense? He wanted to beg him not to leave, not to hurt him even though he knew it was inevitable. He would get hurt either way, so it was best to make the most of it, right? But he couldn't seem to push those words out of his mouth, couldn't bring himself to tell Harry exactly how pathetically insecure he is because that would only lead him to see reason faster and that may be a selfish choice but he couldn't help it. It was Harry's fault really, for making him think even for a second that he had a chance. 

He dropped his soft fry in the ketchup poured into the corner of the box, watching as it got all grossed up. The words clogged his airway and he felt nauseous as they threatened to spill out of his lips every time he opened his mouth. He pushed away the box and looked up from the table. Their eyes locked and he wasn't prepared for the emotion in them, almost as if it pained Harry to watch him struggle.

Louis opened his mouth again, trying to push out the words stuck in his throat. Louis' mind spinned a thousand miles an hour as he looked into Harry's eyes.

"I uh-" Louis closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking up at Harry again who was waiting patiently as Louis collected his thoughts. He swallowed and his eyes welled up in tears as he realized how utterly pathetic this was. So pathetic. Harry deserved so much better. He can't even speak. "Never mind," Louis shrugged off, losing all courage he had mustered in these past moments. Harry walked around the table and took a seat beside him. He propped one of his legs on Louis' chair before reaching out and pulling Louis into his arms taking Louis by surprise but he didn't try to resist, letting himself sink into Harry's embrace and breathing in his comforting scent. This was so embarrassing and he knew he would hate himself for this the very moment he got the energy to actually think about it. 

"Lou," he tried again. "Please tell me what's wrong?" He pleaded and started stroking his hand through his hair the way he had done so many times already, though tonight it felt different. "I want to help you." He buried his face in Harry's shirt. "I just don't get it," he whispered against his chest. 

"Get what?" He asked, confusion lacing his voice.

"This, all if it"

"What do you mean?"

Louis groaned, "why do you want to be with me? Like I get it if you- I don't  understand, I mean I just don't get it," Louis finished. He braced himself for Harry's answer as he stopped his movements. The silence was killing him and a thousand thoughts rushed through his brain as he waited on Harry to say something. Anything. He already regretted saying anything. Why couldn't he just go home? Because he's a selfish piece of shit, that's why.