Harry, Harry, Harry... Louis

Chapter 6

Locks. That's what my house needs. Locks.

After Louis left, I closed my door and stayed in my room until diner. I didn't want to risk seeing him again. I feared him coming out of nowhere screaming at me.

I was in my bed, with my eyes closed, continuously replaying what had just happened in my head.

He walked in and saw me with Jeanne. Louis saw me touching Jeanne.

Louis screamed at me.

I could've gone after Jeanne, who literally ran out half naked and terrified, but I needed to hear Louis. I needed to see him angry. I don't know. It's as if I felt proud of the pain that I made him go through. Honestly, I don't know anything at all. The more I played the scene in my head, the more confused I got.

Was I angry at him for ruining my moment with Jeanne?

Yes, definitely. We were sharing something special (by that I mean, I was about to eat her out) and he barged in, totally unannounced.

Although I hated him for what he did, I couldn't help but feel grateful. He wasn't going to tell my parents.

He was letting me off the hook.

I don't know if it was a warning. Maybe he was just being nice. Or maybe he knows it's not his place to go snitch to my parents.

Whatever it is, I still don't know if he's a threat to me or not.

I'm sitting at the diner table outside, next to my Maman, across from my Papa and in front of Louis. My parents are talking quietly, while me and Louis eat silently. I keep my eyes on my chicken parm and try to make the least noise possible.

" Alors Louis, do you want to tell us why you want to rent a movie theatre? Is it for a secret project? Are you planning on becoming une star de cinéma?" Maman suddenly asks Louis.

I don't look up, but I can hear Louis put his utensils on his plate.

"Maybe one day yes, but not for now. It's for this book I'm working on. I'm looking into a theory... I'm sorry, I don't want to bore you." Louis answers.

I scoff, still not looking up from my food.

I don't want to bore you. Shut the fuck up Louis. No one likes people who ask to be prayed.

I can feel my mom giving me a death stare.

"Mais bien sûr que non chéri! Tell us everything. »

"Ok then. Well I'm currently studying at York, in Cinema: History and Analysis. I'm very passionate about everything I've been learning and took it upon myself to write a book this year. I want to further explore Kracauer's theory on German Expressionism, one of the first currents of cinema."

I look up and my eyes are once met again with blue. I can't lie. I had been dying to know why he needed that movie theater.

Louis looks away and keeps talking to my parents.

"Kracauer seriously studied films, at a time where no one had before. Brilliant man, I'm telling you. His theory is that cinema is the mirror of society. The films we see portray the unconscious of people at a certain time. For example, German Expressionism is a current that came to life during the years after the First World War. Germany was in economic crisis. The unemployment rate was at an all time high. It was complete chaos really" Louis takes a sip from his glass of whine.

"Sorry, me throat was getting dry. As I was saying, in German expressionist films, we always find the "miracle worker", which represents a figure of power, who wants to restore order. He is usually an all-powerful magician who abuses his power and manipulates everyone. He's the bad guy. Kracauer took this character created by that current and compared it to Hitler. Adolf Hitler is a dictator who got elected because he promised the Germans that he would restore order. So Kracauer is saying that German expressionists films are reflections of the psychological dispositions of the Germans of the 1920s. The films made at that time announced Hitler's rise to power." Louis finished off by leaning in his chair.

Fuck. Although I want to find everything Louis does stupid and useless, I can't help but be captivated by what he had just said.

It hurts me to say this but, he's interesting. At least what he said is.

My parents are smiling. They already love him I can tell.

" Woah! Trop génial comme projet Louis! But tell us, what does projecting movies have to do with Kracauer?"

"Well, I want to take Kracauer's theory and apply it to all the other film currents. I want to test it out, play with it. I need to rent that movie theater, so I take notes on films from different time periods. I talked with Matthew today and he has a collection of movies in storage. I'm all set for this summer." Louis answers while taking a bite of chicken parm.

"Talking about Mathieu, how was the trip to Saint-Rémy-de-Provence this afternoon?" My Papa asks.

Louis looks at me immediately, chewing slowly.

"It was fine Papa." I say quickly, never losing eye contact with Louis. I need to change the subject. I'm too scared of him exposing me. "So anyways, what's for deser-

"It wasn't just fine, Harry. It was amazing honestly. Creative boy you have there." Louis looks at my Papa. "He made me visit the whole village. I almost thought he got us lost, but no. Harry knows his way around. He guided me through it all, with a smile on his face. He even invited me for coffee. How generous of him. Isn't that right Harry?"

Everyone's eyes are on me now. I was too nervous to hear what Louis was going to say that I had shoved a big piece of chicken down my throat.

"Mmmphhnmm". I begin to say, mouth still full, when suddenly I feel a foot knock against my balls under the table.

My chewed chicken flies out of my mouth and lands on the table.

Louis smirks at me.

"Yeah. Yup. That's exactly what happened." I answer.

"Glad to hear that boys. Desert anyone?" Papa says.

"No, I'm good. Thank you for the lovely meal. I think I'll go rest." Louis answers and he wipes his mouth with his napkin.

"Oh wait. Harry, I think you still have a bit of chicken parm left" He says while leaning on the table to close the space that's separating us. He takes his thumb and gently swipes it across my bottom lip. "Right there."

The touch is slow and soft. The rest of his hand finds my neck. His licks his lips and looks at me dead in the eyes. I stop breathing. That heat wave that took over my body this morning is now back and stronger than ever. As his thumb leaves my bottom lip, he lightly grips my neck with his hand before letting go.

What the actual fuck?

He stands up and walks inside.

"Later!"

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Thank you for 2.4k reads!!! Happy days:))

p.s. I saw Kracauer's theory in my History of Cinema class last year, so if I said something incorrect feel free to correct me:)