Remind Me To Forget (L.S.) ✔️

Chapter 43

It's been a week.
Seven days.
168 long hours.
Harry wasn't great at math, but since every passing minute without his other half hurt like hell, keeping up with the numbers helped him to bear with the pain somehow. Although he was well aware that this might have seemed like overreacting to someone who could see him from a different point of view, he didn't give a damn. Other people didn't have to go through that hellish ride of emotions when Louis left years ago without a warning, so they couldn't understand the origin of his deep fear.

He promised to come back this time.
But promises were meant to break when it came to the two of them and he was scared to death that something was going to happen, while they were on different paths. Life was fizzing around Louis wherever he's gone; new opportunities, adventures and people gathered to seduce him all the time. Even if he came back... could the young artist be enough for him again?

"...So this is why I ate it after all. If it's not edible, you should put a fucking label on it, am I right?" Ellie sighed as she finished the story, then frowned at the curly headed one. "Hey, were you even listening?"

"...'m sorry," he rubbed his face, then slid his folder into the backpack. "What were you saying?"

"Boo, you can't keep doing this," she pouted; the nickname made the other suppress a faint smile. "It's hard to hold a conversation with you when you keep zoning out to bathe in the glorious memories of him."

"Somebody had a collection of poems for breakfast..." he mumbled to tease her about the choice of words, getting an eye roll as a response.

"Alright, I know how impressive I am, but we're talking about your flaws now."

"Ells, there's nothing to talk about."

"Oh yeah, that's the spirit! I love the confidence."

"No, I mean..." he grabbed the backpack, followed by a quiet laughter. "...'m okay. Sorry for not paying attention, I'll do better."

"Sure... liar," she started walking next to him in the direction of the main hall. "I saw your sketches at Modern Painting, they were full of pain and disappointment. And Harry, if it was that obvious even for me, it will burn out the eyes of Mr. Morales."

"So you're telling me 'm not only depressed, but my works are getting shit as well?" he furrowed his eyebrows, taking a weird side-look at her. "You really know how to start a good day."

"Gosh, it's like I'm talking to Tomlinson," she sighed in a dramatic way, shaking her head. "I didn't say they were bad, they're just getting darker... so please don't lie to me and say you're fine. The vibe of your paintings speak volumes and I wanna know how to help."

"You can paint my nails again," Harry ignored the meaning of her speech and showed his hand like he was bragging about being engaged. "The nail polish chipped off after a few days."

Ellie raised her eyebrows at first, before the realization came and the imaginary light bulb lit up above her head. It hit her like a truck on the highway: she could help him the most, if she didn't mention the older boy at all, instead of having heart-to-heart talks from time to time. It was like one of the stages of grief - he was dealing with denial and she had to be there for him if that's what he wanted.

"I didn't know you liked them so much." she broke a smile after all, putting an arm around his waist as they were crossing the hallway. Harry placed his arm around her shoulders in the way they tended to do all the time, getting a few strange glances from people who knew them. Ah, the rumours about Ellie dating every single person she's been seen with must be on fire.

"I did, 'm thinking about going pink next time."

"We could have them matching!"

"Oh and on wednesdays we wear pink." Harry quoted the Mean Girls and a laugh slipped out of the other's mouth right away.