The Drive-In | l.s.

chapter 17.

you not wanting me
was the beginning
of me wanting myself

۵

"Harry."

He shifted in his sleep, the lines across his forehead appearing as he frowned from his discomfort. He felt a chill breeze hit his face that sent chills down his spine. He last remembered himself burning up from the heat and now he laid there, shivering.

"Harry," the voice whispered once again. This time a small moan came from Harry's lips as he answered whoever woke him from his peaceful slumber. He heard a deep chuckle.

"You've been asleep for hours. It's three in the morning, please do give me some company."

Harry's eyes fluttered open as he began to recognize the angelic voice beside him. He peered up at Louis only to catch his eyes already on him. He smiled softly from his spot against the wall. And Harry also smiled, wishing he could be waken up this way everyday for the rest of his life.

He lifted himself slightly and looked around, trying to figure out where they were, but was only met with darkness and singing crickets.

"We fell asleep, everyone's gone." Louis answered his thoughts.

"And Rue?" His deep voice called out causing his throat to ache from the lack of talking.

He shook his head. "How would we even explain this to them?"

Harry looked at him. Even in the darkness he could still see how beautiful he was. The way his eyes shined from the moon's glow and his hair which had fallen from the rain now feathered out in all directions. If only Harry were an artist, how he wished to be able to capture Louis' beauty on paper.

"Rue knows." Harry said quietly, the intensity from their eye contact causing him to fear raising his voice.

"No Harry, she doesn't. Marks are appearing on our skin." Louis said almost in frustration.

For the first time since he's awaken, Harry looked down at his arm, almost forgetting what had caused him great pain. He admired the new ink that now joined his anchor. He couldn't identify what it was as all he saw were lines twisting and turning in all directions.

"A heart."

"An arrow," Louis returned.

Harry looked up, seeing Louis showing him his own exposed skin; an arrow.

"This is crazy." Harry said in disbelief. "What is this?"

"And," Louis continued, pausing to allow Harry to almost prepare himself. "A compass."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows seeing not only one, but now two new markings on Louis' arms.

He was so close to reaching out and touching them, in awe from such a sight, but something in his mind held him back from doing just that.

"And the ship."

"What?" Harry followed Louis' gaze down to his own arm. A grand ship with huge sails covered his bicep. He'd never seen something drawn so well before, something so cultivating. He was left in shock with the new markings covering his arms. These were so far out of his artistic reach.